Reborn As Noble

Chapter 893: The Price of Evil ( 893 )

”Now, now... don’t try to run.” Javier’s voice rang out, cold and casual as he swept his gaze over the trapped bandits. ”Like I said, surrender and die, or fight and die. You all knew what you signed up for, right? You became bandits. You murdered. You looted. That means you understood the risk, when you do evil, you invite it back.”

The bandit leader’s eyes went wide, panic seeping into his features.

Shit! I thought Armand never sent troops outside their own borders. That was always their rule...

He glanced nervously at the young man in front of him, recognizing the calm confidence and power radiating from his stance.

No... This can’t be right. The nobles swore Armand would never mobilize their army or interfere in other regions’ affairs. But now... they’re here. They’re actually here. Every piece of intelligence we received, completely worthless.

The bandit leader wavered, glancing around with a desperate urge to escape, ready to turn and run.

But then, beyond the far fields, another wave of banners rose, royal blue and silver, fluttering in the wind. The emblem of the ex-royal house, Princess Kliatana’s crest, flew side by side with the Armand.

Thousands of troops approached in disciplined ranks, their armor gleaming under the sun, banners snapping in the wind. The ground trembled beneath the rhythm of their march.

Javier sighed, casually digging his ear with his pinky as if bored.

”And that brat just had to show up with cooler timing, huh? Shit.”

A wry smile tugged at his lips as the wind carried the banners higher, the sound of the advancing army promising a final end to the chaos. The bandits looked around, trapped, outnumbered, finished. The last trace of hope drained from their faces.

The remaining Arjam troops stationed along the battlements finally exhaled in relief.

From above, they watched the chaos halt, the charging bandits and mercenaries frozen in confusion as the massive Pekko and the mysterious young warrior turned the tide.

”Armand troops...” one soldier whispered, his grip on his spear tightening as hope flickered in his eyes.

Another soldier laughed shakily. ”Finally... they really sent help...”

But even as relief spread through their ranks, the veterans didn’t relax. On the ramparts, the archers held their aim and kept their formation tight. They knew too well how desperate men fought when trapped, and five hundred bandits with no escape could still wreak havoc.

They could see the Armand knights, towering figures in strange, advanced armor who moved with unnerving precision. Their weapons were unlike anything the Arjam soldiers had ever seen, shimmering faintly with mana when the first ray of light caught them. These slender weapons hummed with restrained power, an unfamiliar kind of armament that immediately put the soldiers on edge.

One of the younger soldiers whispered in awe, ”Those are Armand knights...? I heard their magic weapons never miss...”

”Don’t get careless,” his sergeant replied, his eyes fixed forward. ”We hold the line until the order comes. Whoever those knights are, at least we’re not alone anymore.”

A sense of hope, fragile but unmistakable, rippled along the wall. For the first time in months, the defenders allowed themselves to believe they might actually live to see tomorrow.

The bandit leader gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his face as reality sank in.

There was no way out.

That young man... he’s not bluffing. ”Fight or die... surrender and die”... He means every word.

He swung his sword up, shouting at the top of his lungs.

”Everyone!! To the gate! We push through and escape from there!”

”Yes, leader!”

The remaining bandits and mercenaries roared in unison, desperation twisting their voices.

Behind them, the mages began chanting once more, their staffs glowing with mana.

Javier, standing calmly at the front, glanced up at the sky.

Above, battle drones shimmered into view. The air erupted with the thunderous roar of mana gatling guns, unleashed an endless bursts of magic bullets. Projectiles tore through flesh and bone, shredding bandits where they stood. Bodies collapsed in sprays of blood as the relentless hail of magical fire carved through their ranks, leaving only carnage and the screams of the dying.

The mages at the rear began chanting frantically, scrambling to cast a protective barrier.

But nothing happened. The circles beneath their feet fizzled and refused to form, mana sputtering out as if denied by some unseen force.

”Wh...what happened? W...why isn’t our magic circle working?”

Eyes wide with horror, they stared at the young man standing at the gate. Javier smirked, one hand resting casually on his sword.

”You both still using chant to activate magic?” Javier’s voice rang out, mocking and cold. ”That’s too slow.”

”Ah~,” Javier cooed, his voice deceptively gentle as he stepped through the field of bodies. He crouched before the bandit leader, who trembled on the ground. Only the two mages and a handful of broken survivors remained now, surrounded by his puppet knights.

Javier grabbed the leader by the hair and forced him to look up. His eyes narrowed as a dangerous, suffocating aura swirled around him.

”Don’t even think about escaping,” Javier said quietly. ”You know where I was before I came here?”

The bandit leader’s mouth opened, but no words came, paralyzed by fear.

Javier leaned in closer, his grip unyielding. ”Your base,” he said, voice cold.

”I found a lot of bodies there. Lucky my team...” He paused as the thunder of wings filled the air. Liana, Gloria, Felicia, and the others swooped in on their Pekko, pulling up beside him. Javier’s gaze flicked to them, then back to the bandit leader. ”...was able to save many of the people you’d captured.”

He released the man’s hair, straightening with slow, deliberate movement.

”How stupid can you be?” Javier let the disgust fill his voice, eyes staring hard into the leader.

”Instead of working in honest work and living in peace, you became a mercenary. A bandit.” He shook his head.

”You were an ex-knight from Arjam, weren’t you? I can tell by the way you handle a sword. And now look at you, killing the very people you once swore to protect.”

”Wh... what do you know!?!” the bandit leader gasped, his voice trembling as he struggled to twist away. ”After our lord died... we... everyone scattered! This whole region’s already in ruins!”

Javier’s grip tightened, forcing the man’s face up to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold and merciless.

”You could’ve asked for help. Refugees from all over came to our region and lived safely. Even if you hated us, you could’ve gone to another noble’s territory, used your skills, worked honestly. But instead...” He leaned closer, his tone darkening. ”You chose to kill. To steal. To destroy your own people.”

Javier’s voice dropped low, every word edged with contempt. ”Do you really think you deserve pity from me?”

He released the bandit leader, letting him slump to the ground, and turned his back on him and the two cowering mages.

Javier’s eyes fell on them, voice ringing out for all to hear.

”And you two, wasting your gifts on petty crimes. Magic is rare. You know that better than anyone. You could’ve become adventurers, found work anywhere, protected people, earned respect. Instead, you threw it all away. You became criminals and wasted your lives for nothing.”

He shook his head, his tone flat and final.

”Stupid. Pathetic.”

( End Of Chapter )