Reborn As Noble

"CHARGE!!!"

Garius led the Heavy Knights, Giddie thundering forward as they crashed into the burning enemy lines. The meteors had already decimated the enemy's formations, leaving chaos and flames in their wake.

"Ice Prison!!"

Garius raise his palm, his mana surging through the battlefield.

Giant ice spikes erupted from the scorched earth, piercing through the enemies still scrambling to recover. The sudden shift in temperature created clouds of steam that mingled with fire and frost in a deadly contrast.

"GAAAAHHH!!!" The enemy soldiers screamed as shards of ice impaled them, freezing their bodies instantly. Those who dodged were cut down by the charging Heavy Knights, their lances piercing armor and flesh alike.

Giddie trampled over the frozen corpses, his golden feathers glinting in the chaos.

One enemy captain, barely escaping the onslaught, stumbled back in terror.

"T-This isn't a battle!! It's a massacre!!"

Garius smirked.

"This is what happens when you step into Armand and think you can take what's mine."

He lifted his sword, its blade glowing with mana.

"You wanted war? I'll give you war."

"FIRE!!"

At Garius's command, the Magic Bow Units unleashed another devastating volley.

Thousands of mana-infused arrows rained down on the retreating enemy, piercing through armor and flesh like paper. Screams of agony filled the air as soldiers collapsed mid-run, their bodies riddled with glowing projectiles.

"DON'T STOP!!" Garius shouted, his voice booming over the battlefield.

The Crossbow Cavalry, rushed forward, firing rapid volleys from horseback and cutting down any survivors attempting to flee.

"NO MERCY FOR INVADERS!!!" Hesbeirn roared, leading another Heavy Cavalry charge, trampling over fallen soldiers as they pursued the remnants of the enemy.

Blood soaked the battlefield.

The once-mighty enemy force of 30,000 was now reduced to a scattered, broken mob, their banners trampled in the dirt, their commanders dead or fleeing in disgrace.

Garius slowly raise his hand, signaling the end of the attack.

"Hold your positions!"

The Armand forces stopped their advance, standing victorious amidst the corpses and wreckage of the battlefield.

Garius turned his gaze toward the distant enemy lands.

His golden eyes gleamed coldly.

"This was just the beginning."

Inside the enemy battle command center, tension filled the air. The commander stood at the center of a large tent, maps and strategic plans scattered across a table. Four elite knight guards stood at attention, hands gripping their sword hilts, eyes scanning for any sign of threat.

Suddenly, the flap of the tent burst open, and a soldier rushed in, panting heavily, his armor stained with dirt and sweat.

"Commander! Our troops… they're lost!"

The enemy commander's face twisted in disbelief. "WHAT!?"

The soldier dropped to one knee, head bowed in submission. "The enemy… they're too strong! We've suffered complete annihilation!"

The commander slammed his fists against the table, barely containing his fury. "HOW!? We outnumbered them! Our formation was solid! We had barriers and elite mages!"

The kneeling soldier trembled before replying. "Commander… our scouts report that a powerful magic attack rained down from the sky—devastating our formation."

The commander's breath hitched. "What!!? Are you sure!!?"

"Y-Yes, sir! And… our barriers were completely dispelled before the attack even hit!"

The commander's eyes widened in horror. "Impossible! We had an entire division of mages maintaining those barriers! Even a grandmaster spell shouldn't have breached them!"

The soldier hesitated before speaking carefully. "It seems… a single, overwhelming magic erased our barriers instantly."

Cold sweat formed on the commander's brow. A magic powerful enough to nullify an entire defensive spell formation? No, that level of power is… unnatural.

Before he could process his next move, shouts erupted outside the command center.

"INTRUDERS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!!"

The sounds of clashing steel and pained screams echoed through the camp. The elite knights immediately drew their swords.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING OUT THERE?!" the commander barked, turning to his men.

One of the knights glanced at the kneeling soldier. "You! Go outside and report!"

But before they could move—

The kneeling soldier sprang to life, hand flashing forward in a blur.

A thin, gleaming dagger sliced across the throat of the nearest knight.

"Ghh—!!" The knight gasped, eyes wide with shock as blood sprayed from his neck.

Before the others could react—

Three more swift, precise slashes.

The remaining knights collapsed to the ground, dead before they could even raise their weapons.

As their lifeless bodies hit the floor, the soldier rose slowly, a smug grin spreading across his face.

His appearance shimmered—changing.

His face morphed, his armor shifted, and in an instant, the kneeling soldier was gone.

In his place stood Alf, the deadliest assassin of the Armand Household.

His eyes gleamed with amusement as he spun his dagger between his fingers.

"Good day, Commander…" Alf said with a smirk.

The enemy commander stumbled back, knocking over the table. "W-What the—!? When did you—!?"

Alf chuckled, stepping forward.

"And…" His smirk widened as he raised his dagger, its edge glinting in the dim light.

"Goodbye."

Before the enemy commander could even draw his sword, a dagger flashed across his throat—swift, precise, merciless.

Blood sprayed across the command tent as the commander clutched his neck, eyes wide with horror. He opened his mouth to speak, but only gurgled gasps escaped as he collapsed to his knees.

Alf calmly wiped his blade on the fallen commander's cloak, his cold, amused smile never faltering.

The tent's entrance burst open, revealing Erinnete and her elite battle maids.

"Took you long enough, Dear," Erinnete sighed, stepping over the fresh corpses without a second glance.

Outside, chaos reigned.

Screams echoed as Armand assassins and battle maids cut through enemy officers and tacticians like phantoms in the night.

The entire chain of command had been silenced before they could mount a counterattack.
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Alf flicked his dagger back into its sheath, turning to Erinnete with his usual smirk. "Well then… shall we clean up?"

Erinnete smirked back. "Leave none alive."

Once the enemy camp plunged into panic, Hesbeirn led his heavy knight unit forward on horseback, cutting through the chaos like a storm. His massive pekko trampled everything in its path, and his greatsword swung with deadly precision, cleaving through enemies before they could react.

Caught off guard ,enemy soldiers scrambled for their weapons, but it was too late. Hesbeirn and his knights moved too quickly, too ruthlessly. Every swing of their blades and every thunderous hoofbeat brought devastation.

"NO MERCY!!" Hesbeirn roared as he charged into the panicked enemy camp.

The sheer force of the attack obliterated everything in their path—tents collapsed, barricades shattered, and enemy soldiers were trampled before they could even grab their weapons.

"W-We're under attack!!" one soldier screamed, only to be cleaved in half by Hesbeirn's greatsword before he could turn.

The Armand cavalry moved like a storm, their armored warhorses crushing bodies beneath their hooves.

Hesbeirn swung his sword with precision, each strike decapitating or slicing through armor like paper. His knights followed without hesitation, cutting down every enemy in sight.

"R-Retreat!! Someone report to the Lord—!!"

A bolt from a magic crossbow pierced the fleeing soldier's skull before he could finish his sentence. Erinnete's battle maids had already secured the perimeter.

Alf stood atop a pile of corpses, his dagger dripping with blood, scanning the battlefield.

"No one gets out." His voice was calm, merciless.

The few enemy survivors dropped their weapons, eyes wide with terror.

They had lost.

Not a single messenger would return to report the defeat.

The Armand forces had won the first battle of the Holy War—

—without suffering a single casualty.

( end of chapter )