Reborn As Noble Chapter 1479: Two Figures from Opposite Ends ( 1479 )

The girl froze, her red eyes snapping toward the source of the voice. Her miasma wavered, the tendrils retreating slightly as she scanned the shadows.

Another voice, casual and light, echoed from the opposite side.

"Yeah. If not, you’re going to be in huge trouble. Especially when it comes to our soldiers~"

The girl’s lips curled into a snarl, her grip on Marcor tightening as she tried to locate the speakers. The air around her grew thick with tension, the darkness pulsing with unease.

"Who dares..." she began, but her words were cut short as two figures stepped into view from opposite ends of the ruined street.

One stood with his arms crossed, a faint, playful smirk on his lips, his posture relaxed but radiating an unshakable confidence. The other leaned against a crumbling wall, one hand in his pocket, the other resting casually on the hilt of a sword at his waist.

"Now, now~" the first one said, tilting his head. "We wouldn’t want this to get messy, would we~?"

The second one chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Though... if you insist on keeping our soldier, I’m afraid we’ll have to insist otherwise~"

The girl’s face twisted into a look of pure disgust, her lips curling into a sneer as she recognized the two figures before her. Her red eyes narrowed, burning with a mixture of hatred and contempt.

"Well, well, well..." Her voice dripped with venom, each word laced with mockery. "If it isn’t Garius and Francesca’s eldest and second sons~ What a surprise~"

She tilted her head, her sneer widening into a condescending smirk as her gaze slid between the two figures.

"The strongest mage on the continent and the only paladin~ How truly blessed I am today~ To think I’d run into both of Armand’s precious golden heirs in one place~ The great mage prince who burns armies to ash with a flick of his wrist, and the holy paladin who shields the weak with his radiant light~ How noble~ How inspiring~"

She let out a short, mocking laugh, her fingers still wrapped around Marcor’s neck.

"Tell me~ Did Daddy send his little princes to clean up the mess~? Or does your dear mother know you’re out playing hero~? Or did you both come running all on your own to save one lowly soldier~? How touching~"

Marcellus let out a lazy sigh, reaching one arm up and stretching it overhead with deliberate slowness. He rolled his neck, the joints cracking softly as a faint smirk settled on his lips.

"Man..." He tilted his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. "For someone with such a pretty face, you sure have a foul mouth, don’t you~? Did you learn that from your master, or did you pick it up from rolling around in the gutter~?"

He let his arm drop, his smirk widening as his eyes locked onto hers. "You have something that belongs to Armand. It’s best if you release him now."

The girl’s face shifted, a devilish mask forming over her features, her lips curling into a wicked smirk.

"Release him~? Oh, sweet prince~ I’m afraid that’s impossible~ The corruption has already taken root in his body~ He’s as good as dead~ Even if you take him back, he’ll turn into one of my warriors soon enough~"

Cedric’s shoulders shook softly before he burst into genuine laughter, slapping his thigh and wiping a tear from his eye.

"Oh~ Oh, that’s rich~ You really are looking down on Armand’s capabilities, aren’t you~? Especially our soldiers~ And the best part? The tactical gear they’re wearing~ it’s not just clothes~"

He paused, his smirk widening as he continued.

"Our little brother crafted it specially to ensure that if any wearer ever faces someone stronger, someone with the ability or power to penetrate the barrier, it will protect the vital organs. It diverts the attack, redirects the wound, ensures it won’t hit any fatal point that could cause instant death. So your ’corruption’? It’s already being purged by the gear’s countermeasures."

The girl’s eyes narrowed, her smirk faltering as she glanced down at her hand, only to find it empty. Her gaze snapped up, and she saw Marcor already slung over Marcellus’s shoulder, his body limp but his chest still rising and falling steadily.

"Give him back to me!" she snarled, her voice cracking with fury, the miasma around her flaring violently.

Cedric chuckled, stepping in front of Marcellus with an easy, confident stride. He planted his feet, his smirk never wavering as he met her blazing red eyes.

"Or what~?"

The girl gritted her teeth, her red eyes locking onto Cedric’s right hand, which was now glowing with a pure white aura. Her lips twisted in hatred as she hissed, "Lay on Hands..."

"Oho~? So you know one of the special paladin skills, huh?" Cedric playfully blew on his glowing right fist, his mocking gaze fixed on her. "It’s not that I don’t trust my little brother’s invention, but it’s always best to ensure Armand soldiers’ safety first."

He placed his glowing palm on Marcor’s back, and a wave of pure, restorative light washed over him, instantly purging the lingering miasma and sealing the grievous wound.

The girl’s rage exploded. A violent blast of dark aura erupted from her, shattering the surrounding rubble and tearing at the air. She screamed, her voice laced with fury.

"Kill them! Crush them! TEAR THEM APART!"

Her remaining giant dwarven warriors let out guttural roars, their black armor pulsing with red light as they charged forward, their thorny clubs raised high. The ground trembled beneath their massive steps, cracks spreading through the stone as they thundered toward the two princes.

Cedric smiled, unsheathing his white-and-golden-striped sword. He planted the blade tip into the ground before him, both hands resting casually on the hilt as he struck a composed, commanding pose.

In a flash of radiant light, his full plate armor materialized, gleaming white with golden stripes, the proud pekko emblem emblazoned on the center of his chest plate. A magnificent cape flowed behind him, white and gold, bearing the same noble emblem as it billowed in the charged air.

Beside him, Marcellus dug lazily at his nose with his pinky, utterly unbothered by the incoming horde. With a casual flick, he sent the dirt flying from his finger, his expression blank for a moment before a faint, knowing smirk crossed his lips.

In a swirl of arcane energy, his battle mage attire materialized. A sleek, high-collared white coat with special blue stripes, fitted for combat and adorned with subtle magical runes. A flowing cape of white and blue unfurled behind him, crackling with residual mana as it caught the wind.

He tilted his head toward the girl, his smirk widening as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"What are you shouting about? Those warriors?"

The girl’s eyes snapped past him, and her breath caught in her throat. Her giant dwarven soldiers lay scattered across the ruined street, their massive bodies torn apart, limbs strewn in every direction. Black miasma bled from their broken forms, dissipating into the air like smoke from dying embers. Each one had been destroyed in an instant, their armor shattered, their glowing red eyes now dark and lifeless.

Marcellus let out a small, bored sigh, rolling his shoulder as if the effort had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Ugh... Boring~. My little brother’s puppet knights are far stronger than that. At least when he summons his Shironii unit, I have to summon my golems to fight back while I grind my knuckles into his head~"

( End Of Chapter )