Reborn As Noble Chapter 1421: Centuries Away from Understanding ( 1421 )

Javier took a sip of his wine, savoring the rich flavor as Buddy casually sidled up next to him. The giant orange pekko, with practiced stealth, used his beak to pluck pieces of meat from Javier’s plate one by one, each time glancing at him with a smug, beak smirk.

"Or maybe I’d grow into the kind of noble who craves power above all else. The kind who would poison his own father to speed up his inheritance, frame his siblings for crimes they didn’t commit, and have them executed or exiled just to eliminate any competition. I’d marry for political gain and keep mistresses for pleasure, and if any of them became a problem, they’d disappear without a trace. I’d make sure my name was feared, not respected, because in a family like that, fear is the only currency that matters. No loyalty, no love, just ambition and blood."

He set his wine glass down and reached for another piece of meat, only to find his plate completely empty. He blinked, then slowly turned his head to see Buddy standing there, his beak glistening with grease, staring off into the distance with an exaggerated innocent expression.

"Oi... Buddy..."

"Cuquawked?" (What?)

"Don’t pretend you didn’t just eat everything on my plate."

"Cuquawked~ Cuquawked~" (I don’t know what you’re talking about~ I’m just standing here, keeping you company, master~)

Javier groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before pointing toward the huge pile of raw marinated meat near the portable grill. "Go cook your own meat, you glutton!"

"Cuquawked~" (Okay~)

Buddy smugly strutted toward the grill. He flapped his wings once, and a gentle gust of wind magic lifted several slabs of raw meat into the air, floating them gracefully before landing them perfectly on the grill.

Javier stared at him, his eye twitching. "You use magic to cook meat? Why not just use your beak like earlier?"

"Cuquawked~" (This way is more fun~)

Aelius swirled the remaining wine in his glass, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at Javier.

"But you know, little brother, I’ve been wondering. Why does Father insist on you leading a conventional force to Vurghen? Not your puppet knights, but a full contingent of Armand soldiers."

Javier raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Aelius set his glass down, locking eyes with him. "I mean, this is a war. Real soldiers. Blood. Casualties. Our men. Even with your gear and our training, there’s always risk. You usually avoid that risk by deploying your knights. Why would Father push for this now?"

Javier smiled, his expression calm and assured.

"Father knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s not sending our soldiers in blind. He knows the capability of every piece of gear I’ve designed, every barrier rune, every weapon, every tactical advantage. Don’t forget, Father has the Eyes of Truth. He’s the best strategist this world has ever seen. Not once has his plan failed. His mind runs a hundred, even thousands of simulations inside his head. Every risk, every detail, every possible outcome is calculated before he gives an order."

He paused, seeing the lingering doubt in his brothers’ eyes. He smiled and walked over to an open area, snapping his fingers. A few barrier rods materialized from his dimensional storage, landing upright in a neat formation.

Marcellus raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Javier’s grin widened. "Demonstration~"

Javier snapped his fingers, and the rods planted in the ground hummed to life. A shimmering barrier flickered into existence, connecting from rod to rod, forming a translucent, protective dome around the designated area. The air within the barrier seemed to still, creating a safe, contained space for the demonstration.

A long table materialized beside him, and atop it, a neat lineup of weapons appeared. They ranged from older designs to more modern ones: a classic flintlock musket, a flintlock pistol, then a bolt-action rifle, a lever-action carbine, a magnum revolver, a sleek semi-automatic pistol resembling a glock, a double-barreled shotgun, a sawed-off shotgun, an automatic shotgun, a grenade launcher, an RPG, and further down the line, heavier weapons like a gatling gun and a machine gun.

Javier waved his hand toward the table.

"These are examples of the maximum upgrade the Human Nation, or anyone in this world, might be able to achieve within the next hundred years. And I doubt they can reach even half of this within that time."

He picked up the flintlock musket, holding it up. "The reason is simple. Crafting these weapons requires precision, material science, and manufacturing techniques that don’t exist in this world. I can create them because my magic crafting skill allows me to shape metal down to a microscopic level, without needing furnaces, hammers, or assembly lines. I can craft a firing mechanism with tolerances so fine that no hand-forged weapon could ever match it."

He set the musket down and picked up the bolt-action rifle. "To produce something like this on a mass scale, you’d need standardized parts, precision machining, and a deep understanding of metallurgy. The Human Nation is still using hand-forged barrels and trial-and-error gunpowder mixtures. They don’t have the infrastructure, the knowledge, the magical refinement or the tools to replicate what I can create with a snap of my fingers."

He gestured toward the heavier weapons. "And these? Gatling guns, machine guns, RPGs? They’re centuries away from even understanding the concepts behind them. So when Father sends our soldiers with our gear, he’s not sending them into a fair fight. He’s sending them into a fight where the enemy is still fighting with tools of the past. We are fighting with the future."

Aelius, Cedric, and Marcellus walked toward the table, their eyes scanning the array of weapons with keen interest. Aelius stopped, pointing at the bolt-action rifle and the box of ammunition beside it.

"This one... this is what we supply to Tybalt and Mathrias for their armies to defend their borders, right? Along with what you call... artillery cannon?"

Javier smirked, shaking his head. "No. It’s called a howitzer. Or haubitze."

He snapped his fingers, and a heavy artillery shell materialized in his hand.

"A cannon fires a solid ball or a simple explosive sphere. A howitzer, on the other hand, fires a shell like this." He held it up, turning it so they could see the details. "Inside this casing is a high-explosive payload, a timed or impact fuse, and a propellant charge that can be adjusted for range. When it lands, it doesn’t just punch a hole in a wall. It detonates, sending shrapnel and shockwaves in every direction. A single well-placed shell can wipe out an entire squad, destroy a fortified position, or turn a cavalry charge into a bloodbath."

He set the shell down gently on the table, the metal clinking softly against the wood.

"Building a shell like this is incredibly complex. The precision required for the fuse mechanism, the casing, the propellant charge, and the explosive filler is far beyond what any conventional smith or enchanter can achieve. Even if the enemy enchants their cannons with magic or crafts explosive cannonballs, they are still crude compared to this. A magic-enhanced cannonball might explode on impact, but it lacks the fragmentation, the controlled blast radius, and the reliability of a properly machined shell."

He picked up the Glock from the table, his fingers moving with practiced ease. In one fluid motion, he disassembled the entire pistol, sliding the barrel, spring, and slide apart, then reassembled it just as quickly, the parts clicking back into place with precision.

"Still, this technology is considered old for us. And you know why. Our mana cannons, anti-air mana gatling guns, mana missiles, surface-to-air mana missile systems, and all the other magic tech we have, are far more advanced than anything on this table. These weapons are effective against conventional armies, but they are not our true strength. They are simply tools we can afford to show the world."

( End Of Chapter )