Chapter 520: No Mercy, No Remorse ( 520 )
Down below, chaos continuedâ
shouting, running, collapsing walls.
But on one of Javierâs smaller scout drones,
a softer image flickered into view:
A young dwarven boy, eyes swollen from crying,
was now helping maybe his mother stand.
Her movements were weak,
but she was alive.
The boy supported her,
dragging her slowly through the ruins toward a gap in the broken fence.
Toward safety.
Javierâs expression didnât change.
But his grip tightened.
âStay alive.
Iâll finish this.â
The drone adjusted again.
The hunt wasnât over.
The drone hovered silently nowâ
its gun barrel steaming,
mana coils recharging.
Javierâs hand hovered over the final control seal.
A glowing red glyph pulsed on the lens.
His newest weapon.
Mana Missile Deployment.
A siege-class attack.
Unleash it, and the entire town would be consumed in fire and force.
There would be nothing left standing.
He stared at the control.
The urge to end it all in one clean strike pressed at his thoughts.
He hated this.
Hated what had been done here.
The screams, the blood, the bodies, the shameful stench of war crimes staining every inch of these ruins.
âJust launch itâŠâ
Part of him whispered.
He could end this with one command.
One shot.
But.
His other drone feed flickered.
The boy.
Still helping his mother.
Still dragging her step by step through the rubble.
Javierâs hand clenched into a fist.
âDamn it.!!!â
He pulled his hand away from the command seal.
He couldnât.
He didnât even know how many were still alive.
There could be other dwarvesâ
hiding under floorboards,
in basements,
behind broken crates,
trapped under wreckage.
He couldnât risk killing them.
âPower isnât just about who you can destroy.â
He stared into the screen.
âItâs about who you can protect.â
The red glyph dimmed as he deactivated the missile protocol.
Not this time.
The drone tilted sharplyâ
its mana gun charged again.
Then it dove.
It swept over the center of the ruined town, the speed kicking up ash and dirt from the scorched ground below.
Mana bullets rained down.
The screams came instantly.
Sharp. Sudden.
Instant terror erupted in the camp as halfling soldiers were ripped apart mid-run.
One squad of five tried to regroup near the broken well.
Two were down before they could blinkâ
one shot clean through the chest, the otherâs neck burst open like shattered glass.
The remaining three raised their shields, locking into an old-school triangular formation, shields overlapping.
âHold! Donât break! Stay together!â
Javier saw it through the drone feed.
He didnât smile.
There was nothing worth smiling at.
He adjusted the droneâs height, brought it to a sharp tilt, and circled the formation from above.
He aimed low.
Mana bullets struck between shield gapsâ
one pierced a kneecap,
another split a helmet.
Two fell.
The third tried to crawl.
He never reached the alley.
Javier kept his hand steady.
No hesitation.
No flicker of doubt.
He knew.
Not every soldier was evil.
Some were probably just doing orders.
Some probably turned their faces away when the others laughed.
Some probably âjust watched.â
But thatâs the problem.
âIf they were really goodâŠ
they shouldâve stopped their friends.â
His voice was quiet.
Flat.
âWar is war.
Looting happens.
Taking prisoners happens.
I get that.â
His eyes narrowed as the droneâs mana coils surged with power.
âBut what they did hereâŠâ
He thought of the woman.
Of the dwarven child, too young to understand what had happened.
âRape.
Torture.
Turning it into a game.â
The drone veered again.
Soldiers hiding behind barricades? Shot.
Those trying to retreat toward the townâs broken eastern wall? Shot.
A mage trying to cast a spell from the watchpost?
Boomâ
The drone fired a mana burst and blew the upper floor apart.
âThey shouldâve said something.
Stopped it.
Reported it.
Anything.â
Another sweep.
More bodies hit the ground.
No more formations.
No more screaming orders.
Only fear.
And death.
âThey didnât.
So they die.â
Javier kept flying the drone overhead, circling the blood-soaked ruins like a silent reaper.
He wouldnât stop.
Not until every last one of them was gone.
The last echo of gunfire faded.
The smoke above the ruined town still lingered, drifting with the morning wind.
Javier slowly took off the visor and returned the drone to standby.
Its work was done.
He walked toward Buddy, who stood patiently nearby, feathers ruffled but eyes sharp.
âLetâs move.â
He climbed onto Buddyâs back, settling into the saddle with calm precision.
No rush.
No panic.
Only purpose.
He raised his handâ
and the mana in the air trembled.
âSummon.â
The ground behind him shook.
Magic circles flared across the plains.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
And then they roseâ
5,000 white puppet knights, summoned from storage, stepping forward in synchronized motion.
Their armor shimmered under the dawn light.
Each one carried a sword or shield, magic crossbow.
In the front row,
one puppet knight carried a dark banner.
Black cloth,
but in the center â a golden emblem.
The symbol of the new Armand.
It fluttered silently in the wind.
Then, they began to move.
Marching.
Not rushing.
Not charging.
Just marching.
Perfect rows.
Metal boots hitting the stone road in rhythm.
Their march echoed across the hills like a drumbeat of conquest.
And in the center of it allâ
Javier rode Buddy.
Straight-backed.
Silent.
Eyes forward.
No words.
No orders.
He didnât need to speak.
This town was no longer under halfling control.
This was Armandâs now.
And he was coming to take everything backâ
one step at a time.
Inside Javierâs mindâ
I have to move faster.
The halflings wouldnât stop.
There were still towns ahead.
Still camps.
Still filth calling themselves soldiers.
But this placeâŠ
He glanced at the ruined walls in the distance.
Smoke still curled from the shattered watchtowers.
Scorched stone, cracked roads, and blood soaking into dirt.
If there are survivorsâŠ
Theyâll need protection.
Maybe I should leave a garrison here.
His eyes narrowed.
Yeah⊠a hundred puppet knights. That should be enough.
They can guard the perimeter.
Protect the civilians.
Help stabilize the place if the dwarves want to rebuild.
He glanced at the town again through the shifting ranks of his knights.
This could be Armand territory.
Noâ
it will be.
He exhaled.
I should contact Father.
Maybe he can send officers here.
Builders.
Someone to manage supply lines, food, medicineâ
whatever the dwarves need to stand back up.
Or maybe thereâs another way.
Iâll think about that later.
He gripped Buddyâs reins tighter.
For nowâŠ
His expression hardened.
I move.
I kill.
All of them.
Every last one of those bastards.
( End Of Chapter )
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.