Reborn As Noble

Chapter 620: Roots of True Power ( 620 )

The battlefield had fallen silent.

In the courtyard, the large pile of wyvern corpses now lay in neat rows—stacked exactly as Javier ordered.

Dozens of dwarven butchers, hunters, and workers rushed in, sleeves rolled up, knives and tools in hand. With practiced skill, they began skinning the wyverns, slicing off the tough hide, and carving out thick, high-quality cuts of meat.

Wyvern meat was famous.

Tender. Rich.

And now… they had more than they’d ever dreamed of.

Laughter broke out.

Cheers rose among them.

Some dwarves shouted blessings to the skies, others slapped each other on the back as they worked their way through the haul.

Standing nearby, arms crossed, Javier simply watched.

He said nothing at first—just letting them enjoy their moment.

Then, calmly, he spoke.

“Make sure some of the meat is smoked. Properly.”

A few dwarves nodded quickly.

Javier continued.

“Also—send portions to the nearby villages. Everyone should get a share.”

“Yes, Lord Javier!” they shouted together.

They moved even faster now, setting up fire pits, stretching hides, and building racks to dry and cure the meat.

Some dwarves carried the wyvern carcasses to the cutting stations, expertly removing bones and sinew.

Others set up smoking racks right there—layering the meat on top of slow-burning dwarven coal and sprinkling crushed herbs to preserve it.

Groups wrapped the finished pieces in large mountain leaves, folding them tightly and tying them with twine for storage and transport.

No one complained.

No one stood still.

They worked with rhythm and pride—like a people who had been hungry for far too long.

Nearby, several hearths blazed as cooks grilled the fresh meat over open flames. Juices sizzled, and the rich smell filled the air.

Soon enough, plates were passed around.

Soldiers. Elders. Workers.

Even the children—eyes wide, mouths full—sat on the stone steps, happily chewing.

Laughter echoed between the stronghold walls.

A rare sound in a place once soaked in war.

Javier stood quietly, arms still crossed, watching them all.

He said nothing.

But inside, he felt it.

A warmth he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

This… this is what it should be like.

No screaming.

No dying.

No running.

Just people.

Living.

Eating.

Smiling.

Especially the children.

Their laughter was the loudest.

He looked up at the sky.

The dwarves never wanted this war.

It wasn’t them who attacked first.

It was the Halfling Kingdom, striking from the east.

And then the Human Kingdom, pressing from the west.

A two-sided war, trying to crush the dwarves in a pincer of fire and greed.

Turning the dwarven country into a battlefield caught in a crushing squeeze.

Two enemies.

One homeland.

Surrounded.

But for now, none of that mattered.

Because here, within the stronghold’s walls—

No one was fighting.

They were cooking.

They were eating.

They were sharing.

Even the children were smiling.

And Javier… watched it all quietly.

No expression. No words.

All Javier wanted—

was a peaceful world.

A place where people could smile without fear.

Where no one raised a sword unless it was for celebration, not survival.

Where laughter wasn’t something rare.

But he knew.

That kind of world… doesn’t exist.

Not here.

Not even in the world he came from.

Even there, behind shiny flags and diplomatic words, superpowers crushed smaller nations under the weight of ambition.

Raw materials stripped. Cultures erased.

All for the sake of their own prosperity—

Claiming it was for peace.

But it wasn’t peace.

It was control.

Colonization disguised as assistance.

Slavery wrapped in law.

They forced foreign rules upon people who never asked for them.

Taught them about “freedom” and “democracy”—

Without ever understanding what those words really meant.

And now?

This world was no different.

Just swords instead of drones.

Mana instead of missiles.

The powerful still crushed the weak.

Javier closed his eyes for a moment.

Letting the wind pass by.

His wish for peace hadn’t changed.

But he knew now—

If he wanted it…

He’d have to carve it out himself.

Even if the world called him ruthless.

Javier opened his eyes slowly.

His gaze wandered across the smiling dwarves—laughing, working, eating together under the open sky.

And deep inside, something warm stirred within him.

This is why he didn’t regret being reborn.

Not because of power.

Not because of fame.

But because of where he was reborn.

Who he was reborn as.

A child of the Armand family.

Under a father who…

was nothing like the rulers he had seen in his past life.

Garius De Armand.

A true noble.