Reincarnated: I Became The First Warlord Of The World-Chapter 61

Willow remained still for a few seconds, the echoes of shattered stone still ringing in her ears.

She couldn’t take her eyes off Jonathan.

Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at him standing tall, unwavering, as if the colossal earth ball that Paul hurled at him was nothing more than a gust of wind.

He stopped it, He actually stopped it.

Her mind repeated those words over and over. It didn’t feel real.

She had truly believed Paul’s last attack would consume Jonathan—overwhelm him, crush him, maybe even leave him too broken to fight. She had seen what that skill had done to others. She knew the weight of it, the force, the sheer destruction it brought.

But Jonathan stood... untouched.

And not only had he stopped the attack, he had done it without fear, without hesitation. With nothing but that calm energy and one solid strike, he dismantled what should have been a match-ending move.

Willow’s shock began to turn into something else—something warm, something steady.

Pride, She slowly rose to her feet, her body still sore, but her smile forming with growing confidence.

Then her eyes shifted to Paul.

He was still rooted in place, fists clenched, jaw tight, but his eyes—those cold, arrogant eyes—were different now.

They had changed, She could see the cracks forming beneath that strong exterior.

Paul was terrified, Maybe he didn’t show it in his stance. Maybe his lips hadn’t trembled yet. But Willow could see it—in the way his breathing grew uneven, in how his eyes kept drifting toward the ruins of his shattered earth ball, as if trying to understand how it had failed so easily.

He had thrown everything he had at Jonathan, And Jonathan had ended it in a single move.

Willow dusted herself off fully now, and with a small chuckle, she stepped forward, She stood beside Jonathan, not behind him.

"I wonder," she said softly, her voice laced with amusement, "how you plan to fight both of us now."

Her eyes glinted with challenge as she tilted her head slightly, the smile on her face widening.

"This is your fight, Paul."

"Your mess."

Paul’s expression remained still—deadpan, unreadable.

But beneath that cold, stony face, his thoughts were spiraling.

Jonathan... actually stopped it.

That earth ball had taken days to master. It wasn’t just strength—it was built with the deepest core of his earth magic. Its weight, its layers, its velocity—everything about that attack was designed to crush.

But Jonathan... a junior soldier from Dreamway... shattered it with a single move.

One move.

Paul’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face, though he pretended not to notice. His mind flashed to the looks of the other soldiers—his squadmates behind the veil of dust and stone, watching, judging, wondering if this was the day their "unbreakable" comrade finally cracked.

Then, after a long moment of silence, Paul suddenly burst out laughing.

It was deep, booming, and wild—like thunder echoing from a dark sky.

He clutched his stomach with one hand and looked at Jonathan as if seeing him for the first time.

"I didn’t know Dreamway had anyone like you," Paul said, his voice full of amusement, though his eyes still carried a hint of fear. "All this time, I thought your captain was the only one worthy of my attention."

He let out another short laugh and shook his head.

"But look at you," he continued, pointing at Jonathan. "Hiding in plain sight. Stronger than you look. Smarter than you act. You actually had me—Paul of the Seventh Stage—taking a step back."

He exhaled slowly, then dropped the smile.

"But you know what that means, right?"

Suddenly, Paul stamped his fist into the ground, hard enough to send a fresh shockwave racing across the battlefield.

A sharp, cracking sound echoed as the earth beneath him began to shift violently. The ground trembled, split open—and from the deep cracks, something began to rise.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five.

Five earth soldiers burst from the ground, fully formed, tall and thick like walking statues. Each one bore glowing red eyes and rocky limbs packed with pressure and force. Their armor was jagged, and each carried massive stone-blades fused to their arms.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.

They had one purpose.

As soon as they emerged, they stormed forward, their heavy feet smashing the ground with each step.

Their target: Willow and Jonathan.

Willow’s eyes widened as she watched the five earth soldiers charge toward them.

Each one thundered across the battlefield like a boulder on legs—solid, unrelenting, and dangerous. Their presence alone felt heavier than any normal enemy. She could feel the magic pressure around them—dense, pulsing through the air like waves from a collapsing mountain.

They weren’t just animated earth puppets. They were crafted warriors, molded from the ground and bound by Paul’s advanced magic—imbued with elemental will, precise programming, and monstrous strength.

And even worse—they weren’t slowing down.

Paul stood calmly behind the chaos, arms folded across his chest, a satisfied grin creeping across his lips.

"Beautiful, aren’t they?" he said proudly. "These five... are the most powerful creation in my arsenal."

Jonathan’s gaze didn’t shift, but Willow felt the tension grow beside her.

Paul’s voice grew louder as he stepped forward.

"Even Captain Jake has trouble with these ones. And now I’m gifting them to the two of you—two scumbags who actually thought they stood a chance."

Willow clenched her fists, trying not to let his words get to her. But the pressure from the advancing soldiers was real—she had never seen anything quite like them.

They were just feet away now, I have to act now... she thought.

With a deep breath, Willow raised her hands, her fingers glowing with a sharp, earthy energy. She didn’t wait for Jonathan—this was on her.

She slammed her palms into the ground.

"D-Ranked Skill: Mountain Earthquake!" she shouted.

The ground immediately shook violently, roaring beneath everyone’s feet. Massive cracks zigzagged across the battlefield, tearing upward, breaking boulders into dust. It felt like the land itself was rebelling.

The earthquake pulsed directly toward the charging earth soldiers.

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!

Chunks of rock exploded upward. The earth groaned and buckled. It was a full-scale area attack—enough to wipe out a small army.

Willow narrowed her eyes, waiting for the dust to clear.

But then—Something strange happened.

From within the heart of the destruction, the five earth soldiers didn’t fall. They didn’t stagger. They didn’t even crack.

Instead, they raised their arms, channeling the same kind of earth energy—mirroring her technique.

And in a blink, the ground beneath them steadied, the quake... stopped.

The entire battlefield went still again, willow’s breath hitched in her throat.

They canceled it, her most destructive attack—rendered useless by magic wielded by Paul’s creations.

"These soldiers," Paul called out with a smirk, "aren’t just strong... they can use earth magic too."

Willow’s eyes narrowed.

This fight was far from over.

Paul’s laughter echoed across the battlefield, sharp and full of mockery.

"You really thought that would stop them?" he scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. "Willow, did you think your little D-ranked skill could do what even Captain Jake takes minutes to achieve? What a joke."

His voice boomed, loud enough for both sides to hear.

"Those five earth soldiers weren’t made to fall to cheap tricks. They’re not some basic conjured beasts—they are built with layered reinforcement and infused with runic cores. You’d need more than a shaking ground to even make them flinch!"

Willow stared at the soldiers, her chest rising and falling, heart pounding not with fear—but with the heavy realization of what she was up against.

They weren’t just durable, They adapted.

They used magic. They responded to threats. They had intelligence—not human, but calculated, coded into their cores by Paul himself.

And they were getting closer.

She glanced at Jonathan beside her. Still calm, still unreadable. His earlier move—Palm Strike: Plus One—had stunned even Paul. But she had felt the depth of that technique. It was his best. His sharpest blade. The attack he had poured everything into.

And while it was perfect against a direct threat like Paul’s earth ball... these soldiers were different.

They didn’t move like one enemy.

They moved like a unit.

A calculated force.

And Willow knew... if Jonathan launched that same move again, it might hit one, maybe two, but the other three would close in. And once they got close, there wouldn’t be time for second strikes.

He’s strong, Willow thought. But even he can’t fight all five of them at once—not now, not after already using that much power.

She clenched her fists tighter, feeling the burn in her arms and the ache in her legs—but there was no time to rest. No time to wait. No time to let someone else carry the weight.

Willow took a deep breath and dashed forward.

Without warning. Without hesitation.

The wind whipped through her hair as she surged past Jonathan and sprinted directly toward the five charging earth soldiers.

She had to stop them.

No matter how terrifying they looked. No matter how overwhelming they felt. If they broke through here, the rest of the squad wouldn’t stand a chance.

She didn’t care that her last attack failed. She didn’t care about Paul’s laughter echoing behind her.

This wasn’t about pride anymore.

It was about protecting the team.

If I can hold them down—just long enough for Jonathan to recover or find an opening—then maybe...

Her eyes locked on the first soldier.

Her body tensed.

This time... she wouldn’t hold back.