Reborn As Noble-Chapter 655: The Fall of Gurdan ( )

He tilted his head slowly, almost curious.

One foot stepped forward, grinding over shattered tile.

"You..." he said, voice low.

"You’re the one who said this would end fast."

His neck rolled. The bones cracked—once, twice.

Stone around his feet began to flake and lift, trembling from the weight of his aura.

He looked at First.

At Second.

Then at the pile of rubble Seventh was dragging himself out of.

Gurdan spread his arms slightly, like a conductor waiting for the next note.

"...Well?"

The light in his eyes pulsed.

"Try again."

A sudden shift in the air.

Screams, hundreds—faint but distant, carried on the wind through shattered palace windows.

Women. Soldiers. Civilians.

All screaming.

Gurdan paused, one foot mid-step.

His ear twitched.

"...Hmm?" His brow furrowed. "What’s that noise?"

A cold voice echoed.

"Gurdan."

His eye twitched slightly.

"I can feel it."

"Edmund is here."

Gurdan’s smirk vanished for a heartbeat.

"...For real?"

"Yes~"

The voice almost purred.

"That scent... those souls... he’s close. Time to defeat him. Let’s devour that arrogant bastard."

The grin slowly returned to Gurdan’s face—twisted and gleaming.

His golden tattoos shimmered, pulsing once like a heartbeat.

"Well then..."

He turned his head toward the crumbling hall behind him, toward the Seventh Unit still recovering.

"...After we finish playing with these ones—" he muttered, licking his lips.

He clenched his fist.

The air crackled.

"Let’s enjoy their final performance."

Gurdan stepped forward, arm pulled back, ready to drive his fist straight through the next fool who dared move.

But he stopped.

The air changed—pressure dropped, and something... shifted.

A shadow flickered. Then another.

All seven assassins were standing again—shoulders hunched, breathing ragged. But now... bathed in thick, black aura.

Their eyes burned a deep, unnatural red.

The kind of red that didn’t belong to mortals.

Gurdan narrowed his gaze.

"...Hmm?"

He tilted his head, voice slow, amused.

"Oh? You’re all getting serious now?"

His grin widened. "Good. I was getting bored."

But then—

"GURDAN!!"

The voice screeched inside his mind, panicked, unlike before.

"They’re different!" the Celestial snapped.

"This aura... this surge... it’s not their natural limit!"

Gurdan’s pupils narrowed. "Explain."

"Their power is being boosted externally!"

"This means... Edmund is nearby!"

The temperature in Gurdan’s body plummeted. His tattoos flickered.

"That bastard—he’s already consumed another Celestial."

A silence.

Then the Celestial growled.

"This is Stage Three. Edmund has reached three Celestials."

Gurdan’s grin vanished.

"...What!!?"

His aura flared violently.

"We’re still at two...!"

"Finish them. NOW!!"

The throne room erupted in tension.

The Seventh began to move.

Blades struck. Lightning exploded. Cursed spears ripped through the air.

Gurdan’s barrier flickered, blocking most of it — but not all.

A dagger grazed his arm.

A cursed spear slammed his shoulder and forced him to pivot.

Seventh’s blade scraped past his cheek, drawing a faint, glowing line.

Gurdan gritted his teeth. His feet skidded back across the cracked stone, energy shaking through his bones.

This wasn’t like before.

They were faster. Sharper. Every attack was tighter, like something was holding their hands and guiding them—not just instinct anymore.

His golden tattoos dimmed for a brief second under pressure.

"...Fine."

He opened his arms wide.

"One can play too."

The air bent.

His feet crushed through the floor as divine light exploded around him, bursting upward in a violent surge of power.

Stage Two Celestial Awakening.

His entire body was cloaked in a burning aura of radiant gold and deep red. Symbols along his arms and chest shifted — alive, breathing. The floor beneath him cracked like glass.

Gurdan blurred forward.

"Do you think it’s easy to take me down?!"

CRACK!

His fist smashed into Seventh’s face, knocking him off his feet, into the ground.

Gurdan didn’t stop.

He slammed him again. And again. And again.

Fist after fist—shockwaves rippling outward with every brutal impact.

"Trash!"

"Weakling dogs!"

"All of you—Edmund’s little pets!!"

Stone shattered. Blood flew. Dust rose.

The floor beneath Seventh began to crater under the weight of Gurdan’s fury. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Gurdan’s fist slammed down again—Seventh’s body denting the stone beneath.

But he didn’t get a chance to finish.

BOOM!!

A cursed spear crashed against his back—Sixth.

Lightning roared in from above—Fifth’s barrage, forcing him to pivot mid-punch.

A wind blade sliced toward his face—Second had closed in, daggers spiraling like dancing razors.

Gurdan clicked his tongue and jumped back, barely avoiding another round of cursed flame from First.

Fourth’s invisible traps exploded around his legs, disrupting his stance.

Third charged in, a glowing gauntlet colliding with Gurdan’s ribs and sending him flying through a column.

"Tch—YOU FUCKING BUGS!"

Gurdan skidded across the floor, sparks flying from his heels.

He spun mid-slide, raised both hands—

A double-layered magic circle unfolded in the air, burning bright with violent mana.

"TRASH—ALL OF YOU!!"

He unleashed a torrent of magical beams, fire bursts, and shockwaves—each spell chained into the next with raw Celestial force.

The air turned white-hot. Dust exploded. Shockwaves cracked through the palace walls.

But—

The six didn’t stop.

For every spell he launched, they launched two back.

For every counter, they rotated formation, shifting angles, pressing him harder.

His barriers flickered. One nearly shattered.

"I’LL BURN YOU ALL!!"

He raised another glyph, forcing a sphere of radiant pressure outward to push them back.

Fifth floated over him, casting at range.

Second and Third flanked left and right, closing in again.

First’s magic cut off his retreat.

Gurdan bared his teeth, veins glowing gold across his arms.

"FINE! DIE WITH YOUR FUCKING HONOR!!"

The palace trembled beneath the storm of spells and rage.

Gurdan roared in fury, launching blast after blast—his divine aura ripping through the air like wildfire.

Then—

Everything stopped.

His body froze mid-air, hovering just above the shattered ground.

His breath hitched.

Eyes wide.

He looked down slowly... at his own chest.

A hand.

No blade. No weapon.

Just a single pale, gloved hand, calmly piercing through his chest from behind, fingers curled just enough to hold his heart in place.

There was no pain at first.

Only cold.

"...Wh...?"

Blood slipped from the corner of Gurdan’s lips.

A soft voice echoed beside his ear.

Smooth. Velvet.

Familiar.

But warped. Playful. Mocking.

"Good job... my loyal dog~"

Gurdan’s pupils trembled.

He turned his head with a sick, jerking motion.

Behind him—a figure.

Tall. Poised. Elegant in dark armor, his eyes glowing with golden, unnatural light.

A calm smile.

King Edmund.

( End Of Chapter )

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