Reborn As Noble

The heavy doors of the war chamber creaked open as the generals and key advisors entered swiftly, armor clinking and cloaks trailing behind them. The tension was already thick—none dared to speak before their king.

King Gurdan stood at the head of the war map, his gaze burning.

He raised a hand and pointed directly at the red markers along the Dwarven border.

”You.” His voice was sharp as steel.

”You will lead 400,000 troops toward the Dwarven Kingdom.”

One of the senior generals stepped forward, his eyes wide.

”Your Majesty, if we divide our army too soon—”

”NO BUTS!” Gurdan’s voice thundered across the hall.

”This is an order!”

The war table trembled under the weight of his clenched fist.

”If we move fast—if we mobilize all 400,000 through their mountain pass—we can take the Dwarven border before the day is out.”

A moment of silence passed as the generals exchanged glances—none daring to challenge him again. Finally, the leading general lowered his head.

”If that is your will, Your Majesty… it shall be done.”

Gurdan nodded, satisfied, then turned sharply toward his royal advisor.

”Assemble the strongest adventurer parties we have. Veteran warriors, archmages, beast tamers—anyone who’s survived a decade of battle.”

”Also, send in our elite guards.” His tone dropped lower.

”The ones trained to fight celestial corruption.”

The advisor hesitated.

”Your Majesty… you mean to engage the Wicked Hero directly?”

”I will lead the other 400,000 myself.”

Gasps filled the hall.

The advisor stepped forward, alarmed.

”But Your Majesty! If you fall—”

”JUST DO AS I SAY!” Gurdan roared.

The room fell into stunned silence.

The air itself grew heavier.

And behind Gurdan’s glowing eyes, the celestial stirred, pleased.

”Yes… let us lead the charge… let the blood flow… let the world kneel…”

Gurdan exhaled slowly, his grin returning.

”Soon, the Wicked Hero’s head will be mine… and his power will be ours.”

Troops flooded the streets, formations shifting, supplies loaded onto carriages, and siege engines prepped. The air buzzed with urgency. The people watched from balconies and rooftops, eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear.

At the heart of the palace, King Gurdan stood tall atop the steps, clad in his battle armor—heavy, enchanted halfling steel layered with crimson royal embroidery, inscribed with ancient runes of war.

A massive axe hung on his back—its blade humming with mana—while across his chest, the faint pulsing glow of the celestial mark shone through the armor’s seams.

He adjusted his gauntlets, slammed his fist to his chest, and shouted for all to hear—

”NOW!

PREPARE EVERYTHING!”

The generals and commanders saluted in unison. The ground thundered as the massive army began its final mobilization.

”THIS—HAS TO STOP!”

Gurdan’s voice echoed through the palace walls and beyond.

”THE WICKED HERO SHALL NOT CONTINUE!

HE SHALL BE STOPPED—

BY ME!!”

He descended the steps with commanding force, cape fluttering behind him, flanked by his elite guards and the chosen adventurers and mages from across the kingdom.

”Let’s move forward.

Toward the front.

Toward the flames.

AND TOWARD HIS END!”

The halfling banners lifted high, the wind catching the sigil of the royal house as the first lines of the 400,000-strong army began their march.

Armand Estate – War Room

Inside the main hall, Garius sat at the head of the war table. Magic maps floated mid-air above its polished surface, displaying current troop formations and border conditions. Around him sat his children—Marcellus, Cedric, Heres, Athine, and Aelius—each accompanied by their personal maids and aides.

Knock knock.

”Come in,” Garius said without looking up.

The door opened. Javier entered with his usual casual confidence. Liana and Gloria followed behind, silent but alert.

”Esteemed Father,” Javier greeted, stepping forward.

Garius nodded once. ”Report.”

Javier began, tone clear but unhurried. ”Mission complete. Anti-air mana guns are now installed across the coastal perimeter. Puppet knights are on standby—good for sixty days without maintenance. I’ve set up mana recharge towers nearby, so they’ll stay active even during prolonged engagements.”

He continued, ”The elite battle knight unit you assigned is now stationed in the area. They’re fully equipped. The temporary base is operational, and the supply routes have been reinforced. The Pekko transport system is up—thanks to Athine and Aelius.”

Garius listened in silence, his eyes never leaving the floating map.

”Well done. Sit.”

Javier moved to his seat beside Cedric. Marcellus gave a sideways grin but said nothing. Cedric nodded. Aelius returned to his documents, while Heres looked half-asleep, his hand resting near his sword hilt.

Garius turned to Alf. ”Report.”

Alf stepped forward and placed a scroll on the table. ”Latest update from our scouts.”

He unrolled it quickly. ”Kenjirou is confirmed to be on the frontlines, leading 50,000 Amazarak troops. He’s now engaged with King Gurdan’s army—400,000 strong.”

The room fell silent.

Alf added, ”Both forces are radiating strong celestial presence. The clash has already begun. From what we observed, the terrain is breaking. The mana pressure is intense.”

Garius exhaled slowly. ”The celestial war begins…”

He turned toward Liana and Gloria.

”Ari. Aria.”

Both girls stiffened as the celestials inside them stirred. Their voices echoed softly.

”Yes, Garius,” they answered together.

”Who’s winning?” he asked plainly.

Ari spoke first. ”At the moment… it’s even. Both vessels are compatible with their celestials. The power hasn’t peaked yet.”

Aria added, ”If either of them makes a misstep, it won’t matter how strong they are. One mistake… and the other devours them.”

Garius leaned back slightly.

”What do you think, Athine? Aelius?”

The two siblings sat close, as always. Athine glanced at her brother before speaking, her tone polite.

”I’m sorry, esteemed Father, but tactics and battlefield strategy aren’t exactly my strength.”

Aelius nodded once in agreement. ”We’ll manage logistics and supplies as always, but… this kind of war isn’t our field.”

Garius didn’t respond—just shifted his eyes toward Cedric.

”And you?”

Cedric tapped a finger on the table. ”Hard to say without seeing the full composition of both armies. But if they’re relying purely on numbers, brute strength, and magic…”

He paused.

”…then the Amazarak side will eventually lose.”

Garius raised an eyebrow.

Cedric explained further. ”Their tactics seem built on overwhelming force. But strategy, mobility, and support systems matter. The halflings may be small, but they’re organized. And they’ve fought off invasions before.”

”Also,” Cedric added, ”they don’t have anything like the tools Javier makes.”

Garius nodded, then looked at Marcellus.

”Your thoughts?”

Marcellus leaned back, arms crossed. ”They rely too heavily on mana. Big spells, wide-range destruction, and barrier layering.”

He shrugged. ”It looks powerful at first. But the stronger the spell, the faster it drains mana.”

He glanced at Javier with a smirk. ”Without a system to sustain them, they’ll run dry. Once that happens, even a barrier becomes useless.”

( End of Chapter )