Reborn As Noble - Chapter 288

Chapter 288: Flames of Heresy ( 288 )
Garius leaned back in his chair. “Alf.”

Alf, who had been standing nearby, immediately stepped forward. “Yes, my lord?”

Garius exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. “I don’t feel good.”

Francesca, who had been observing quietly, finally spoke up. “Hmm? What’s wrong, dear?”

Garius didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to Eridith, the White Flame, his dragon-wife, who was still finishing the last of her roast meat. “Eridith.”

She blinked, chewing slowly. “Yes?”

Garius met her gaze. “Can you follow Javier and his two maids to the border town?”

Eridith raised an eyebrow. “The one between the Beastkin Kingdom and Armand?”

“Yes.”

She frowned slightly. “Why?”

Garius shook his head. “I don’t know… Perhaps just a precaution.”

Eridith tilted her head. “But your youngest son is strong.”

Erinnete, standing to the side, nodded in agreement. “Yes, my lord. I even saw how he easily handled Blakor and his assassin team before.”

Garius tapped his fingers on the table, his expression unreadable. “No… I’m not really worried about Javier’s safety. I know he’s strong.” His eyes darkened slightly. “But something doesn’t feel right.”

A heavy silence settled in the room. Everyone knew—when Garius had a bad feeling, it was never wrong.

Francesca slowly placed her teacup down, her elegant smile fading slightly. Eridith stopped chewing. Even Erinnete, usually calm and composed, lowered her gaze, deep in thought.

Then—

Garius turned to Alf. “Alf.”

Alf immediately straightened. “Yes, my lord?”

Garius’s voice was firm, absolute. “Tell Hesbeirn and Rasdingen to take over command for now.”

Alf bowed deeply. “Understood, my lord.”

Francesca watched Garius closely. “You’re going yourself, aren’t you?”

Garius smirked slightly. “I just want to make sure of something.”

He exhaled, already preparing his next steps when—

“I’m going with you.”

Francesca’s calm, elegant voice echoed through the room.

Garius glanced up, only to see his wife smiling softly. His golden eyes narrowed slightly. “Francesca—”

“No objections.” She lifted her teacup gracefully, taking a sip before continuing. “Where my husband goes, I follow.”

Before Garius could respond—

“Let me join too.”

Eridith smirked, cracking her knuckles. “You’re being cautious? Then you’ll need me. If something does happen, I can burn it all to the ground.”

Garius rubbed his forehead. “…Let’s wait for Alf first.”

Erinnete, who had been standing silently, remained poised, watching the exchange. She wasn’t going to argue. She was going too. Because when Garius felt uneasy…

That meant something dangerous was truly ahead.

Javier rode ahead on Buddy, enjoying the ride as the warm wind brushed against his face. Liana and Gloria followed closely behind on their own Pekkos, the three of them making steady progress toward the border town.

Then—

Javier’s sharp eyes caught something in the distance: a thin trail of smoke rising into the sky.

He narrowed his eyes, pointing ahead. “Hmm? What’s that?”

Liana and Gloria followed his gaze, and the moment they saw it, their expressions hardened.

“Young Master… we better investigate it. Now.” Liana’s voice was unusually firm.

Gloria adjusted her glasses, nodding in agreement. “Smoke in a village is never a good sign.”

Javier’s grin faded, replaced by a sharp focus. “Buddy! Let’s go!”

With a loud squawk, Buddy kicked off the ground, charging forward.

Liana and Gloria followed without hesitation, their Pekkos racing at full speed toward the unknown danger ahead.

As Javier rode on, the wind rushing past him, he heard something beyond the crackling of burning wood: the clash of swords and horrified screams.

His eyes narrowed. “What the—? Buddy, faster!”

Buddy squawked loudly, his powerful legs kicking up dust as he sprinted ahead.

Behind him, Liana and Gloria’s expressions hardened. Without a word, they readied their weapons. Liana gripped her magic bow, the faint glow of enchanted arrows forming as she pulled the string taut. Gloria tightened her grip on her warhammer, her calm expression replaced by focused determination.

The three of them rushed toward the source of the sounds—toward the village.

Then—

Javier saw it.

A scene of horror unfolded before him. The village guards lay motionless on the ground, their weapons scattered around them.

Then a voice rang out from inside the village: “Kill the heretic!”

Javier’s fists clenched tightly, his eyes burning with fury. “Liana. Gloria.” His voice was cold and steady. “Get ready.”

Because whoever did this…

Would not leave alive.

As Javier and his companions burst into the village, the stench of burning flesh filled the air. The sight before him froze his blood. Villagers—men, women, even children—were hanging from wooden stakes, their lifeless bodies swaying under the rising smoke. Some had already been burned, blackened corpses collapsing into ash, reminiscent of the horrific witch trials of old.

Javier’s breathing slowed, his expression darkening. He reached into his magic storage, and in an instant, his Adamantite sword gleamed in his hand.

Then—

He moved. A blur. A flash of steel. With all his strength, he leaped toward the enemies, his sword aimed to cut down the first figure he saw.

CLANG!

His blade was parried mid-air.

The one who stopped him? A man with a sinister smirk, wielding a blade that hummed with divine energy. Kenjirou—the Sword Hero. A summoned hero.

He pushed back against Javier’s strike effortlessly, chuckling as their swords locked. “Well, well, well… Marcellus and Cedric’s little snot-nosed brat came to play.” Kenjirou’s smirk widened as his eyes flickered toward Liana. “Oho~ and ‘my’ elf is here too.”

Liana’s eyes burned with disgust, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even acknowledge him. Just like before.

Kenjirou’s smirk twitched. Javier’s rage boiled over. “You.”

Kenjirou laughed. “Oh? What’s with that look? This is what happens when people refuse to submit to the Saint of Three Gods.”

Javier tightened his grip on his sword. That’s when the rest of the summoned heroes stepped forward. A full party of advanced-class warriors, standing together like they were the ‘main characters’ of this world. They stood confidently, seemingly untouchable.

Javier didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let them leave alive.

Kenjirou laughed mockingly, pressing his blade against Javier’s. “You? A mere snot-nosed brat? Challenging us?”

He pulled back, flipping his sword effortlessly before pointing it at Javier. “We are the divine summoned heroes—blessed by the goddess herself! You think you can defeat us with that weapon?”

The rest of the heroes smirked, arrogance dripping from their expressions. “We are blessed not only with power, but with divine skills, divine status, and most importantly—” Kenjirou lifted his sword, the blade glowing with holy energy. “Divine weapons! Weapons that none of you filthy shit will ever touch! AHAHAHAHA!”

Javier felt his blood boil. Not just from their arrogance or the way they looked down on everyone, but because he knew the truth. The only reason these so-called ‘heroes’ were strong in the first place… was because of his brothers. Marcellus. Cedric. They trained them, accompanied them, helped them level up. And now, these bastards acted like they were superior.

Javier’s rage overflowed, his voice cold and unforgiving. “You all… are nothing without my brothers.”

Then—

A shift in the air. The ground shook violently. Javier activated his Gravity skill at maximum. A sudden force crushed downward. The cultists chanting collapsed instantly, their bodies pressed flat against the dirt as they struggled to breathe. Some screamed, their bones snapping. The village quaked, cracks forming in the ground as the intense weight pulled everything downward.

And the heroes? They felt it—but only just. Kenjirou staggered slightly, then quickly regained his footing, scoffing. “Hah! Look at this little brat! He thinks he has the power to challenge us?!”

The Assassin Hero grinned, twirling his daggers. “Pathetic. Not even close.”

The Mage Hero chuckled, flames dancing on her fingertips. “I expected more from a noble brat.”

The Priest Hero smirked, tapping his staff against the ground. “You should pray, child. The goddess may forgive you for this foolishness.”

Kenjirou laughed louder, pointing at Javier mockingly. “AHAHAHAHA! What a joke! You think you’re strong?!”

Javier didn’t respond. His eyes burned with pure rage. In that moment, he didn’t care if they were heroes. He was going to break them.

( End of Chapter )