Reborn As Noble

Chapter 618: Hollow Victory ( 618 )

Below the burning sky, mana fire still raged in the distance. The drones kept up their coordinated attack, picking apart the enemy formations one by one.

Javier stood quietly… then slowly tilted his head.

“Ah,” he said softly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, thinking.

Wyvern meat… is top quality.

He crossed his arms and stayed calm as the explosions thundered overhead.

That’s right. It’s tender, full of mana fiber… low fat, high protein…

His lips curled into a small smirk.

…super hot grilled. Just like high-grade mana-infused wagyu beef.

He looked toward the nearby dwarves—starving, injured, weak.

This could fix their entire food shortage.

He raised his hand again and pointed upward—casually, but sharply.

“Alright, knights!”

His voice rang out across the courtyard, like a commanding officer giving instructions.

“Aim for the wings or the head. No exploding the body!”

The puppet knights responded instantly, their glowing eyes turning in unison.

[Understood: Adjusting fire vectors. Minimizing structural damage.]

He turned slightly and spoke to the drones next.

“Engage Drones! Command: Target! Don’t crush the meat. Focus on clean kills.”

[Command received: Switching to Precision Mode.]

Above, the drones immediately adjusted their aim.

The barrels of their mana guns retracted slightly, aiming for non-lethal but disabling shots. The mana missiles shrank and rotated to a smaller blast radius—focused on crippling, not vaporizing.

One drone hovered behind a wyvern and — PANG! — fired a clean shot into its right wing joint.

The beast shrieked, spiraled down, and crashed without exploding.

Another drone zipped under a low-flying wyvern and shot two sharp beams directly at its jaw.

The beast slumped mid-air, neck limp, but its body stayed intact.

The puppet knight manning the rear cannon rotated smoothly, aimed up, and fired a burst.

The rider was knocked off the saddle, and the wyvern, now with only a limp wing, glided down and softly crashed into a nearby orchard.

Javier smirked again.

“…Perfect. Dwarven cuisine is saved.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the stunned dwarves and muttered,

“Hope they have enough salt.”

Above him, more wyverns started falling—intact, burning from mana, but their meat preserved exactly as ordered.

The battlefield descended into chaos.

But to Javier…

It was starting to look like a feast.

Javier looked up at the sky.

The dark swarm of wyverns had been broken and scattered. The few survivors were fleeing beyond the clouds—wings flapping wildly, formation broken.

He lowered his hand slightly, then raised it again.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

“…Alright,”

In an instant, the courtyard shimmered with mana light—rows of Puppet Knights appeared one after another. Each fully armored, their glowing cores pulsing as they waited silently for orders.

Javier gave his command.

“Gather all the wyvern corpses. Stack them in the courtyard. Make a clean pile.”

The knights responded together:

[Command received. Recovery protocol initiated.]

The units immediately spread out.

Some jumped into the nearby ruins, others took off using mana boosters under their boots, flying along the smoky trails of falling wyverns.

Javier added, voice steady but respectful—

“And… the human remains.”

He looked toward the battlefield—fallen riders lying lifeless on rooftops, stone paths, and craters.

“Gather them carefully.”

He paused briefly, then finished his order.

“Let the Human Kingdom retrieve them later. Or we’ll bury them properly.”

The knights nodded silently and kept working.

Within moments, the courtyard was filled with coordinated movements—metal hands lifting wyvern bodies, folding wings, stacking them into neat rows near the inner wall. The heat was still coming off the corpses, but the meat remained mostly intact, just as Javier ordered.

Farther out, knights gently wrapped fallen human soldiers in cloth from storage seals, laying them out in respectful rows.

Javier stood in the center of it all, arms crossed.

Smoke drifted through the air. The smell of ash, blood, and burned leather mixed with the faint scent of mana residue.

Then Javier let out a slow sigh.

Inside his mind—

A calm but heavy voice.

“…Why won’t they stop?”

His eyes looked out to the horizon, where the last of the wyvern units disappeared into the clouds.

“Why do they keep doing this?”

“Why keep fighting when they already know… they’re going to lose?”

He glanced at a nearby Puppet Knight carefully laying a fallen rider’s body on the ground.

“Don’t they value their lives?”

His fingers curled slightly.

“Shit…”

A bitter exhale escaped his lips, hidden in the heat and chaos of the ruined courtyard.

“I hate this.”

He wasn’t angry about the battle.

He wasn’t upset by the blood.

But the stupidity of it all—the endless cycle, the arrogance, the lives sacrificed just to delay the inevitable—

That bothered him more than any enemy ever could.

Around him, the Puppet Knights kept doing their quiet work. The courtyard was slowly becoming neat again. Everything was cleaned, stacked, and secured.

But inside Javier—

There was no peace.

Just a silent, burning disgust… for a world that refused to learn.

Javier slowly turned his head, his eyes scanning the area.

Near him, dozens of dwarves had gathered—some soldiers, others civilians who had taken shelter during the attack. All of them stared in stunned silence.

They had seen everything.

The wyverns.

The puppets.

The drones.

The way he calmly gave orders to crush a sky assault.

Their faces showed a mix of awe—and fear.

Javier raised his voice—quiet, but unmistakably firm.

“Call your commander.”

His gaze moved over the dwarves.

“Tell them… your new ruler is calling for them.”

Murmurs spread quickly among the crowd. Some hesitated. Others looked nervously at each other.

But none of them moved.

Then, Javier’s expression changed.

The easy smile disappeared.

His eyes grew sharp. His jaw clenched.

He took a step forward—and his voice turned cold.

“Don’t even think about betraying me.”

Silence.

A few soldiers instinctively stood straighter.

Javier’s presence filled the courtyard—completely commanding.

He looked each dwarf in the eye.

Not as a conqueror.

Not as a hero.

But as someone who wouldn’t tolerate weakness, lies, or excuses.

( End Of Chapter )

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