Reborn As Noble-Chapter 622: Gears of Empire ( )

And Javier knew—

Who suffered the most.

Not the kings.

Not the generals.

Not the nobles arguing in marble halls over strategy.

It was the people.

The common families.

The ones who never asked for war, but were always dragged into it.

Wives, abandoned.

Husbands gone, never to return.

Fathers buried without a grave.

Children crying from hunger.

Villages forced to split what little food they had, always short, always afraid.

And the ones in power?

They tightened their grip.

They called it law.

They called it loyalty.

But it was control.

Women taken—not as soldiers, not as workers—

but as toys for the powerful.

Someone’s wife.

Someone’s daughter.

Someone’s sister.

Dragged away in the name of service.

Vanishing behind closed tents, never returning whole.

And if that wasn’t enough?

Taxes.

Enough to starve a family.

Enough to break a man’s back for a war he didn’t choose.

The soldiers—forced to keep marching.

To fight battles they didn’t believe in.

Their morale low.

Their eyes hollow.

Because they knew:

They weren’t fighting for justice.

They were fighting for someone else’s seat.

And when they died?

They became numbers.

Not names.

Javier’s eyes remained on the horizon.

His mind churned.

If Father were in my shoes... what would he do?

Garius De Armand wasn’t a warmonger.

He wasn’t a tyrant.

But he was decisive. Calculated. Ruthless when he had to be.

And above all—

He never acted without understanding the weight of consequence.

Javier narrowed his eyes.

Killing the king?

No.

That wasn’t Garius’s way.

Because removing a ruler wasn’t the end of a war.

It was the beginning of a new kind of chaos.

War against the kingdom itself?

Maybe.

But at what cost?

Thousands of lives?

Millions starving?

Entire regions collapsing into rebellion and revenge?

Javier shook his head slightly.

Even if they won, it would be a victory soaked in ash.

Become the temporary ruler?

Seize control. Govern for a while. Then return the throne to the people?

It sounded clean.

Logical.

But reality didn’t work that way.

The people would never accept it.

They wouldn’t see a temporary hand.

They would see a foreign invader—

someone who took power by force.

Even if he stepped down later,

the damage would be done.

His name.

His legacy.

His homeland.

All dragged through the mud.

No.

That wouldn’t work either.

Javier stayed silent.

His thoughts deep, sharp, relentless.

He wasn’t looking for a throne.

He was looking for a way out of this endless spiral.

But every path forward...

Seemed to lead into more blood.

Javier’s gaze dropped to the stone beneath his boots.

His mind drifted back—to something his mother once told him.

"Your father... wasn’t born a ruler. He became one because no one else would stand."

Back then, the Armand Region had already existed.

But it had been taken—

seized by the Klimbert household.

They invaded, backed by royal favor.

And they slaughtered nearly the entire Armand family.

Only one survived.

Garius.

Not by luck—

But because he had already begun preparing.

Because even at that time...

He wasn’t just a noble’s son.

He was a strategist.

And he didn’t run alone.

Alf.

Erinnette.

Hesbeirn.

The three most loyal pillars of Armand.

They fought beside him.

They protected him.

And more than that.

He already had men.

A small personal force. Trained in secret. Loyal only to him.

That was the reason Garius won.

He didn’t wait for help.

He didn’t cry for justice.

He became the resistance.

And piece by piece.

He took back every inch of his homeland.

From ashes.

From blood.

He rebuilt the Armand Region from scratch.

And made it into the sanctuary it was today.

Javier clenched his hand slightly.

That’s why Father always made sure.

Every son had their own unit.

Marcellus with his Elite Mage Corps.

Cedric with his Holy Paladin Regiment.

Even Javier himself, with puppet knights and drone warfare—

Because Garius never wanted history to repeat.

If war ever came again—

No son of Armand would be unprepared.

Javier sighed deeply.

His breath escaped like steam from a kettle under pressure.

He could do it.

He had the power.

The army.

The technology.

He could push back the Human Kingdom’s forces—

Retake every dwarven stronghold they’d seized.

Fortify the borders.

End this invasion right now.

But...

Without Father’s approval—

He couldn’t.

He wasn’t the head of Armand.

He didn’t carry that authority.

And he couldn’t risk acting recklessly on foreign soil.

Even if his gut screamed to intervene.

Even if every bone in his body said, "Just fix it."

He couldn’t.

"Damn... this is hard."

He muttered under his breath.

Then let out a long, tortured sigh.

"Haaa..."

A moment of silence.

And then—

"...I wish Liana were here so I could bury my face in her breasts..."

His expression twisted into a dreamy grin.

"...Eheheheh~ Soft... warm... safe..."

Nearby, Buddy tilted his head at him, confused.

Javier didn’t even care.

"Nothing resets my brain like Liana’s chest... that’s just common sense..."

"Well... no need to be all gloomy and serious right now."

Javier stretched his arms above his head with a light yawn, cracking his neck left and right.

The air smelled like grilled wyvern and slightly burnt onions.

He glanced toward the stronghold walls—

his puppet knights stood motionless, gleaming in their armor, each one manning cannons and patrolling perimeters with clockwork precision.

Silent. Loyal. Unbreakable.

This place was secure.

The dwarven capital was under his watch now—

and nothing was getting past his defenses.

No wyvern. No assassin. No nonsense.

He smirked to himself.

"Good boys."

Then he exhaled and placed his hands on his hips, glancing toward the central keep where Gumarak was resting.

"Alright..."

He straightened his posture slightly, speaking more to himself than anyone else.

"Once that big guy’s back on his feet—

we’ll have him sign the surrender agreement.

Transfer power.

Even if it’s temporary."

"I’ll watch over the dwarven lands until this war ends."

He turned, already thinking about transportation options for Gumarak.

A full escort.

Heavy defense.

And enough roasted wyvern packed to last a week—

because no way was that guy going to travel hungry.

"Better get ready for the trip..."

He looked back one more time at the calm, secured capital.

"Yup. Everything’s in place."

He grinned.

"Now I just need Gumarak to wake up and stop being dramatic."

( End Of Chapter )

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