Reborn As Noble Chapter 1627: The Schemer and the Monster ( 1627 )

Amazarak Fallen Nation.

Inside Vane’s Room.

Vane leaned back against the cushions of his chair, his eyes fixed on the handheld device resting in his palm. The mana talkie was sleek and compact, its surface smooth and cool against his skin, its runes glowing faintly with a soft, steady light. He turned it over slowly, studying every curve, every detail, every line of craftsmanship.

On the table beside him lay the letter, its seal already broken.

I couldn’t believe it.

Armand is this advanced.

He turned the device over in his hand, feeling its weight, its balance. He pressed one of the buttons, and a soft light flickered from the front.

I knew it would work. I always knew.

If only they had listened to me!

He let out a low breath, his thumb resting on the device.

I told them. I told them again and again.

The most important thing to build is communication. Communication wins wars. Communication holds empires together. Without it, you have armies that can’t act in unison, commanders who can’t coordinate, kings who can’t respond to threats in time.

I told Julius directly. I looked him in the eye and told him that the nation that controls communication controls the battlefield. I drew up the plans. I explained the theory. I showed them how it could work. How it would change everything.

But that bastard laughed at my idea. He turned the entire council against me. He mocked me in front of every noble and every commander in that hall, made them all believe I was mad. He tore apart my plans, dismissed the materials I needed, told them it was all a waste of gold and time. Called me a dreamer. A fool. Said I was chasing fantasies when I should be focusing on practical matters. Like training. Like fighting. Like being a proper hero.

And now here it was. A working handheld communication device, crafted by Armand. They made it happen. They built what I’ve been begging for all along.

Vane smiled faintly.

They’re too dumb to understand. Still relying on old-style messages. Letters carried by sweaty riders. Powerful horses that take days to cross a province. Smoke signals that vanish in the wind. Carrier birds that can be shot down with a single arrow. Runners who die in the mud before they deliver their message.

And Armand already has this. A device that fits in the palm of my hand.

He picked it up again, turning it slowly.

The day will come when they realize I was right. But by then, it won’t matter.

I don’t care about the invasion anymore. I don’t care about helping Julius win. Let him march his armies into whatever war he wants. Let him bleed his people dry chasing glory. Let the coalition burn itself out on its own greed. I’m done with all of it.

He turned the device over in his hands once more.

I need to make sure no one ever finds out about this.

If the coalition finds out I’ve been in contact with Armand, if they find a device in my possession that no one on that continent has ever seen, they’ll suspect me immediately.

They would question how I got it. They would trace it back. They would watch me. And everything would fall apart before it even begins.

He carefully slid the device inside his coat pocket, making sure it was secure against his chest. Then he picked up the letter and read it again.

Hmm...

This letter mentions that someone will come and meet me soon. And I have to make sure the meeting stays secret. Away from the coalition’s eyes. Away from Julius’s spies. Away from the noble officers who report every word back to their lords.

I’ll need to arrange a meeting point away from the base. Somewhere in the mountains, perhaps. Somewhere the coalition patrols never reach.

He kept reading, his eyes scanning the lines, the details, the carefully worded instructions. He read it once. Twice. Three times. Then his eyes narrowed, and his smile widened.

Oho~

So that means Armand has kept all seven fragments of the deceased heroes of the Human Nation.

His smile turned sharper.

Finally...

I can have a weapon that could rival Julius.

He raised his palm and called his magic. A small flame flickered to life above his hand, and he lowered it to the corner of the letter. The fire licked slowly along the edges, devouring the paper, turning the words to black ash, then to nothing at all. The last of it curled into the air as smoke and was gone.

Soon... Soon, Julius...

I will make sure you learn what it feels like to be the one who is crushed.

Meanwhile.

Divinity Nation.

A small town on the outskirts of the region.

The inn room high above the town square was lavish. The finest chamber the innkeeper had ever prepared for a guest. The floors were polished dark wood, covered with a thick woven rug in deep red and gold. A canopy bed dominated the room, its silk curtains tied back with tasseled cords, and beside it sat a carved wardrobe and an elegant vanity. The windows, tall and narrow, looked out over the town below, with the moonlit roofs and the faint glow of the grand hall where the feast still continued.

Feeca lay sprawled across the sheets, fully naked. Her pale green gown lay crumpled on the floor. Her legs were spread wide, her thighs trembling, her hair spread across the pillow in a tangled mess. Her face was turned to the side, her eyes closed, her lips parted, her breathing shallow and uneven.

The sounds echoed through the room.

Skin slapping against skin. The wet, rhythmic slick of a cock driving into a pussy, over and over. The bed creaked beneath the weight of the bodies on it.

Julius knelt between her legs, one hand braced against the headboard, the other gripping her hip. His face was flushed, his breathing heavy, his jaw tight.

Ugh!

I only came once and she already fainted?

He kept moving, his hips slamming into her with steady, punishing force. The bed creaked beneath them with every thrust.

Pathetic.

Plain little face. Rosy cheeks, brown hair, nothing worth remembering. But the body made up for it. Slim waist, decent hips, tight little pussy. And a virgin, too. I had to work for that. Had to tease her, flatter her, make her believe I was the answer to everything.

And this is what I get? One round and she’s done?

He drove deeper, his fingers digging into her hip, and she jerked beneath him.

At least a warm hole is a warm hole.

Doesn’t matter if she’s awake or not. I’m not stopping until I’ve taken what I want.

He accelerated, his hips slamming into her faster, harder. The wet sounds grew louder, rougher. The bedframe creaked and groaned. His breathing turned into grunts, his grip on her hip tightening hard enough to leave marks before his hips slammed forward one final time.

He buried himself to the hilt, his fingers digging into her hips, his back arching as he came with a low, grunting growl. He held himself there, grinding deep, feeling his seed spill into her.

He pulled out with a wet pop, his cock still glistening, and smirked down at her limp form.

"Consider yourself blessed, my lady," he murmured. "But this blessing has only just begun."

He rolled her over onto her stomach without waiting for her to wake.

"A gift given is a gift taken. You’ll thank me in the morning. Or you won’t. It changes nothing."

( End Of Chapter )