Reincarnated: I Became The First Warlord Of The World-Chapter 74

Jake stood motionless. His head was tilted slightly, eyes wide with disbelief. His mind struggled to register what had just happened—what was still happening.

Evan’s fist... had connected, Square to his face.

The full weight of that B-ranked skill—Power Bomb—carried not just strength, but defiance, resolve, and every ounce of battle-worn desperation left in Evan’s body.

Jake felt it all.

Crack!

A sickening sound echoed through the battlefield. The bones in his jawline strained under the pressure, and his neck jerked violently from the sheer force. His body, once proud and dominant, flew through the air like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut.

"No... this can’t be..." Jake’s thoughts raced as he hurtled backwards.

He crashed into a building, the impact tearing straight through its stone walls like they were paper. Then another. And another.

Boom!

Each collision left behind a cloud of dust and broken concrete until finally, with one final collapse, Jake’s body hit the ground—hard.

He didn’t rise.

The proud captain of the Elite Forces, the man blessed with the Titan Whale’s might, lay still... broken and silent.

And then—It happened.

Like a blanket being lifted from a suffocating crowd, the force field vanished.

A subtle ripple passed through the air. The crushing pressure that had paralyzed the soldiers, the commanders, and even the debris around them—disappeared.

Suddenly, sounds filled the space again, Labored breathing. Groans. Movement.

One by one, the fighters stirred, Eyes opened. Chests heaved, they were conscious again.

The heavy silence that once loomed over Baytorn was finally lifted. The broken ground beneath them, the shattered buildings around them, and the collapsed figure of Captain Jake lying motionless in the distance—everything spoke of the storm that had just passed.

And then, slowly, like flowers blooming after a long winter, the team members began to move.

Willow staggered at first, still stunned by the energy that had held her down, but she quickly regained her footing. Around her, her comrades—bruised, breathless, but alive—stood up one after the other. Their eyes all found one person standing at the heart of the chaos: Evan.

He was hunched over, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he sucked in lungfuls of air. Sweat poured from his forehead, soaking his tattered uniform. But despite the exhaustion, a triumphant smile spread across his lips. A light of realization flickered in his eyes.

He had done it, he had finally used a B-ranked skill.

Something he thought would take years to achieve, Something he believed only seasoned elites could tap into.

Yet here he was, standing tall, victorious, having unleashed it in a moment that changed everything.

Evan straightened his back, beaming. He chuckled softly to himself, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Man... I actually did it."

That was when the rest of the team came rushing toward him.

"Captain Evan!"

Willow’s voice led the charge as she dashed forward, her arms open wide. Without hesitation, the others followed, surrounding Evan in a tight embrace. Their cheers, their laughter, their words of relief and praise—it all blended into one warm, overwhelming moment of unity and triumph.

Evan laughed again, this time louder, his voice ringing with the joy of a man who’d just touched the sky, But not everyone was standing, Jonathan remained still on his knees.

His eyes were open, but his body trembled. Blood still trickled down the side of his face. His breathing was shallow and strained. Unlike the others, there was no celebration on his lips, no victory in his stance.

He was the reason they had a chance, he weakened Jake.

He tore down the wall just enough for Evan to break through, but the cost was written all over his body.

He used every bit of his energy to weaken Jake just now otherwise, Evan wouldn’t have the chance to defeat Jake.

Evan stood still for a moment, letting the warmth of celebration wash over him—the cheers, the embraces, the awe in their voices. But as the excitement bubbled louder, something tugged at his heart. His eyes drifted to Jonathan—still kneeling, still recovering.

And just like that, Evan’s smile faded.

He saw the truth. Jonathan had carried the weight of the fight—tanking the attacks, drawing Jake’s wrath, risking his life repeatedly. Evan had delivered the final blow, but without Jonathan... that punch would have never landed.

Evan cleared his throat sharply.

The sound cut through the laughter like a blade. The voices died down. The smiles faded. Every head turned toward him, confused.

Then, slowly, Evan brought his hands together and began to clap.

At first, it was just him.

One. Two. Three. Steady. Loud. Clear, and then, the others understood.

They followed.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The applause grew louder, deeper, stronger—until it echoed across the shattered base like a roaring wave. All eyes turned to Jonathan.

He was still on his knees, head bowed, sweat and blood streaking down his face. But as the claps reached his ears, a flicker of life returned to his eyes. His breathing steadied. His fingers clenched into fists. And with a low grunt, he forced himself up to his feet.

He stood—not proud, not boastful—but firm.

Steady.

Evan walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him.

"You’re the one that carried us through this," Evan said, his voice low but filled with fire. "A fine soldier. One of the best I’ve seen."

Jonathan didn’t speak. He simply gave a small nod, his gaze burning with quiet strength.

That was when another figure began to stir.

Ezra.

He had been lying motionless for a while now, unconscious for most of the final battle. But Jake’s overwhelming force had still been weighing him down even while he was out. The energy was like a thousand invisible hands pressing against his chest.

Now, as the aura finally lifted, Ezra slowly opened his eyes.

He gasped for air—harsh and fast. His hands trembled as he pushed against the cracked floor, struggling to rise.

His legs were weak, but his spirit wasn’t, he remembered everything, he remembered Jake’s monstrous power.

He remembered the fear, and he remembered Jonathan standing between him and death.

Ezra finally got to his feet, legs wobbling, arms sore. The world around him was still slightly blurred, but his vision locked onto one thing: Jonathan.

He walked over, each step filled with purpose.

When he reached him, Ezra stood at full height, straightened his posture, and saluted.

His voice, though raspy, rang with clarity.

"Thank you for saving my life."

Jonathan looked into Ezra’s eyes—saw the pain, the pride, the lingering shadow of death that had nearly claimed him just minutes ago.

But he smiled, he lifted a hand and gently tapped Ezra on the shoulder.

"Don’t worry," Jonathan said, his voice calm and assuring like the wind after a storm. "You’re a fine soldier. You’ve got heart... and strength. I saw it. What you’ve shown today—" Jonathan gave a small nod "—is just a piece of what you’re truly capable of." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Ezra swallowed hard. His lip trembled slightly—not from fear, but from gratitude.

Jonathan’s eyes hardened slightly as he looked around at the ruins of Baytorn base. The dust still floated in the air like ghosts, hanging between crumbled walls and the bodies of the fallen. This wasn’t just the end of a battle. It was the beginning of something far more complicated... far more dangerous.

"This is just the beginning," Jonathan muttered to himself, his voice low but firm.

His mind, though calm on the surface, was already racing.

If only they knew...The people.

The soldiers, the civilians.

If only they knew the full truth—that their commanders, their so-called protectors, were corrupt to the bone. Rotten as the devil himself.

He clenched his fists as the reality sank in deeper. This wasn’t a single war. No. It was a double war—one on the battlefield, and another behind the curtains. One to defend the people, and another to free them from the twisted hands of those who wore medals on their chest while bleeding the nation dry.

A sudden sound snapped him from his thoughts.

Whup-Whup-Whup.

A familiar roar.

The sound of blades slicing the wind.

A helicopter.

Jonathan’s head jerked upward. Dust blew across the ground as the others turned too.

The dark silhouette of a military chopper cut across the gray skies, slowly descending over the ruins. The sound of its engine thundered in his chest.

Willow, Evan, Ezra—they all looked to Jonathan now, instinctively awaiting his next command.

But Jonathan... he was staring far beyond the machine.

His thoughts had already shifted—toward a deeper enemy. A darker face. A man who had orchestrated pain and war like it was music.

General William.

The one who hid behind polished boots and perfect speeches.

The one who had to fall, Jonathan narrowed his eyes as the helicopter hovered.

This was far from over, there were still too many battles to fight, too many truths to uncover, too many scars yet to be healed.

And one man in particular he still had to hunt.

Jonathan took a deep breath and muttered under his breath:

"This is merely the beginning of the war. I have so many things to do and most importantly, General William to find and kill."