Reborn As Noble

Chapter 895: Conquest and Compassion ( 895 )

”You waited because you thought everything would be fine, right?” Javier said, his eyes steely and his voice unyielding.

”Y... yes...” Thilan murmured, his eyes dropping to the ground. The crowd and soldiers finally breathed again as Javier’s crushing gravity eased.

”And now look where you are.”

”I... I tried to persuade the people... but some...some wouldn’t listen...” Thilan’s voice faded, shame clear on his face.

Javier’s gaze swept the square as more townspeople crept from their hiding places, faces wary and angry. From among them rose the old, bitter faction, the ones who’d always hated Armand.

”We don’t need Armand here! Go back to your region!”

”Yeah! We don’t need outsiders ruling our land!”

”Just go back! We can protect our town!”

Javier inhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing, and let his anger show. His voice boomed, sharp as a blade.

”How dare you cowards talk like you’ve done anything? Where were you when the bandits attacked? Oh, right, you were the first to run, pissing yourselves and hiding like rats. And now you have the audacity to shout at me?” Javier cupped his hand to his ear, mocking their defiance with a cruel grin.

”You can’t even defend your own town, and yet you dare act tough now? You’re all worthless.”

He planted his feet, both hands resting on his sword stabbed into the broken stone. More puppet knights materialized behind him in perfect, silent formation.

”I don’t give a damn whether you like it or not.” Javier’s voice cut through the air, cold and final. ”I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to conquer. This land belongs to Armand now, and you live under Armand’s rule. If you think Armand has no right to claim this region, then raise your sword, put on your armor, and fight, Subject.”

He glared at the angry crowd, his voice sharp as steel.

”How dare you raise your voice to a noble, especially one of Armand’s blood?”

Behind him, the puppet knights moved in flawless silence, rifles raised and aimed, not just at the ground, but at every soldier along the battlements. Some materialized atop the walls themselves, weapons trained on anyone who dared resist.

Javier strode forward, eyes locked on the sullen faces before him. He bent and grabbed a sword from a trembling soldier, now kneeling in the dirt, paralyzed by fear. Javier dragged the blade with deliberate slowness, metal scraping against stone, the sound echoing through the ruined square. Then he tossed it at the feet of the defiant faction.

”Now pick up your sword and honor your words. You said you don’t need Armand to rule you? Prove it. Show me here and now.”

Thilan fell to his knees before Javier, his voice breaking.

”Please, spare my people, Young Lord...”

Javier’s expression hardened. He looked down at Thilan, eyes cold and unflinching.

”Don’t beg, old man. Armand doesn’t want your pity or kneeling. Your people seem to forget, we didn’t come here to send aid. We came to conquer.” His words echoed across the ruined square, absolute and without apology.

”We don’t waste our strength, our resources, or our coin on a region that brings us nothing in return, no profit, no benefit to our own people.” Javier’s tone was sharp, every syllable ringing with finality. ”Remember that. If you want to live under Armand’s banner, you do so by our rules. Not by clinging to your old pride. Not by begging for mercy.”

Javier looked down at Thilan, eyes sharp and voice cutting through the tension.

”You remember what my father always said, he hates people who kneel or beg. I’m the same. I can’t stand those who come crawling for pity. Stand up!”

He waved a hand, and his puppet knights shifted, weapons snapping up and locking onto the defiant faction.

”Let me say this one more time, this land belongs to Armand now. We don’t care whether you accept it or not. If you have complaints, go cry to the king or beg some other noble for help. Or better yet, pick up your sword and fight for what you claim to believe in, instead of just spouting nonsense.”

Javier’s voice rang out, sharp and full of fury.

”What are you all waiting for?! Go grab your weapons and fight!”

As he roared, a sudden shift swept across the area. His gravity magic activated again, and the surrounding pressure intensified. The ground cracked slightly beneath his feet. The air turned thick. The defiant faction instantly dropped to their knees, trembling and pinned by the invisible weight crushing down on them.

”What’s wrong now? Can’t move?” Javier’s glare pierced through them. ”Wasn’t it you who spoke so boldly just moments ago?”

He scoffed, stepping forward with calm authority.

”Don’t forget. Right now, you’re not some brave townsfolk. You’re prisoners. While I stand here, my battle drones are sweeping the area, my puppet knights are securing the streets, and Armand’s real soldiers are clearing out monsters for meat. They’re saving nearby villages, helping survivors, restoring order.”

Javier’s voice deepened.

”And you? What are you doing? Just standing here shouting garbage?”

He paused, sword still in hand, planted into the ground with purpose.

”You call that pride? No. That’s cowardice dressed in noise.”

Javier raised his hand.

All his Knights locked their weapons toward everyone.

The battle drones flew above, gatling mana guns ready to unleash their barrage.

Until.

Kliatana’s clear, serene voice cut through the heavy air, every word graceful and calm.

”Please... Young Lord Javier. Spare the people.”

Javier exhaled, turning slowly to face her.

Kliatana rode her Pekko with the quiet dignity of true royalty, her bearing unwavering as she approached the ruined square. Behind her, the ex-royal banner of the late King Edmund fluttered in the wind, a symbol of old hope and legacy. She dismounted, each motion elegant, drawing every eye.

The soldiers and townsfolk, still pinned by Javier’s gravity, lifted their heads in awe and disbelief. For the first time, hope flickered across their faces.

Kliatana moved forward, unhurried, her presence calming the storm. She stopped at Javier’s side and faced the kneeling crowd, her voice gentle but full of authority.

”Please, Young Lord Javier... I beg you, show mercy to the innocent.” She bowed her head gracefully. ”These people have suffered long under chaos and fear. Many lost their homes, their families... not because they wished for conflict, but because they had nowhere to turn. They aren’t our enemies. They’re the victims of war, misfortune, and despair.”

She turned, her eyes sweeping over the battered townspeople.

”Give them a chance to see peace and order restored. Let them know the strength of Armand lies not in punishment, but in justice and compassion.”

( End Of Chapter )