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 rowsâstacked 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 theyâd 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 firstâjust letting them enjoy their moment.
Then, calmly, he spoke.
âMake sure some of the meat is smoked. Properly.â
A few dwarves nodded quickly.
Javier continued.
âAlsoâsend portions to the nearby villages. Everyone should get a share.â
âYes, Lord Javier!â 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 thereâlayering 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 prideâlike 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 childrenâeyes wide, mouths fullâsat 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 hadnât 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 wasnât 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 strongholdâs wallsâ
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 wantedâ
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 wasnât something rare.
But he knew.
That kind of world⊠doesnât 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 prosperityâ
Claiming it was for peace.
But it wasnât 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 âfreedomâ and âdemocracyââ
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 hadnât changed.
But he knew nowâ
If he wanted itâŠ
Heâd have to carve it out himself.
Even if the world called him ruthless.
Javier opened his eyes slowly.
His gaze wandered across the smiling dwarvesâlaughing, working, eating together under the open sky.
And deep inside, something warm stirred within him.
This is why he didnât 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 whoâŠ
was nothing like the rulers he had seen in his past life.
Garius De Armand.
A true noble.
One who ruled a vast regionâlarger than the entire nation Javier once called homeâ
Without cruelty. Without tyranny. Without greed.
There was no one homeless in the Armand territory.
No starving child.
No race treated as lesser.
Humans, elves, beastkin, dwarvesâall lived side by side.
They laughed together.
They ate together.
They lived.
It wasnât a dream.
It was real.
Real peace.
Built not by conquest, but by principle.
By leadership.
Javier had never seen that kind of world before.
Not in all his years in his old lifeâ
where corruption reigned behind polished desks and false smiles.
Where poor neighborhoods were buried under silence,
and the wealthy lived by extracting every last drop of dignity from those beneath them.
But hereâŠ
Here, in the land of Armandâ
Peace wasnât a slogan. It was reality.
And for the first time, Javier knew what it meant to truly admire someone.
His father.
The man who made this possible.
The reason he could even stand here and protect othersâŠ
Was because he had been raised by someone who valued life.
Javier let out a small breath.
He wasnât stupid.
He had known for a long timeâ
His father was using him.
Ever since the day he was âconvincedâ to enter noble school.
Not by command. But by tactic.
Garius didnât raise his voice.
He simply said:
âIf you donât go, Liana will be dismissed.â
A clean move.
And Javier understood it instantly.
He had tried so hardâ
To hide his abilities.
To play the fool.
To act like a lazy, talentless son no one would take seriously.
But it was useless.
Because Garius De Armand was a genius.
A man with instincts sharp enough to cut through any lie.
He didnât need to see Javier fight.
He already knew.
Yetâdespite all of thatâ
Javier didnât resent him.
Not even once.
Because even if Garius used him.
He never took away his freedom.
He never said:
âYou must marry the woman I choose.â
He never said:
âYou are forbidden to do this or that.â
No.
Garius simply said:
âBehave.â
âNever hesitate when making a decision.â
âKnow whatâs right and whatâs wrong.â
That was it.
There were no cages. No arranged marriages. No golden leash.
Just a weight.
A single burden Javier didnât want.
Inheritance.
Becoming the next Count.
Ruling the entire Armand region.
He hated the idea.
Not because he couldnât do it.
But because it would tie him down. Strip away the freedom he loved most.
And worst of all?
All his older brothersâeven the capable ones like Marcellus, Cedric, Aelius, and Heresâ
They had all refused to take the title.
Not because they were weak.
Not because they lacked talent.
But becauseâ
They hated paperwork.
( End Of Chapter )
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