Reincarnated: I Became The First Warlord Of The World-Chapter 76

Jonathan’s eyes darkened as his brows pushed low and firm to the edge of his eyes. He stood there, quietly surveying the mess that had become of Baytorn—the collapsed buildings, the ash in the air, the battered ground beneath his boots. The so-called backup from headquarters—three Taskforce squads—stood scattered and confused, barely enough to clear even one quadrant of the ruined city, much less reclaim it entirely.

He exhaled slowly, deeply, his hands clenched at his sides.

There was no way the team in front of him could clear the whole area before nightfall. And if they didn’t... Baytorn would be locked in. A restricted zone. Officially declared under Alphacrest military control. That meant defeat—not just for the city, but for everything he believed in.

That meant surrendering another piece of Dreamway to the same twisted authority he’d vowed to wipe off the map.

His jaw tightened. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not after what he’d seen. Not after what they’d lost.

Jonathan’s heart pounded against his chest as the vow echoed again in his head, louder than ever:

He would eradicate Alphacrest with his own two hands.

Even if it meant going against every order. Even if it meant standing alone.

Beside him, Evan watched the Taskforce squads as they began scanning the perimeter. The weight of the battle was still heavy in his bones, but his eyes held resolve.

He gave Jonathan a single nod, then turned toward the helicopter.

"I’ll leave the rest to the team," Evan said, his voice calm but firm. "I hope they deliver properly."

Evan clenched his fists as he looked around the destruction that stretched from street to street. Baytorn was unrecognizable—what once was a stronghold of resistance now looked like the aftermath of a full-scale war. He knew the truth in his gut: there was no way the handful of Taskforce members present would be able to sweep and secure the entire city by nightfall.

And that was the real danger.

Because if Alphacrest planted their flag tonight, if they so much as dropped a drone and raised a transmitter, this place would be sealed. Officially marked as a Restricted Zone. Declared lost. Claimed. Owned.

And all of this? All the bloodshed, the destruction, the bravery of Jonathan, Ezra, and the others?

Would be for nothing.

Evan exhaled hard. The problem wasn’t the team. The problem was the damn headquarters not understanding the severity of what they were dealing with here. They had no idea a Titan Whale had been summoned. No idea Captain Jake had gone rogue. No idea an entire base had fallen under elite infiltration.

They had no idea Dreamway was slipping through their fingers.

He stepped closer to Liam, who was still coordinating his team quietly. Liam looked up just in time for Evan to place a firm hand on his shoulder, tapping it twice.

"I’ll go," Evan said. "I’ll return to headquarters and report what really happened here. I’ll make them understand the situation. They’ll have no choice but to send a Rouge Squad once they hear it from me directly."

Liam’s eyes widened, and for a moment, the tension lifted from his face.

"You’ll go in person?" he asked.

Evan nodded. "Before midnight," he said with full confidence. "That squad will be here. I promise you."

Liam didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, without warning, he stepped forward and hugged Evan, tightly.

"We’ll hold on before then," Liam said.

Evan and his team made their way toward the helicopter, the wind from its rotating blades sweeping dust and ash around their feet. The night sky above Baytorn was still bruised with smoke, and even though the battle was over for now, the air remained thick with tension—like the city itself hadn’t taken a full breath yet.

As Evan climbed the ramp, he instinctively turned to his right, ready to speak with Jonathan, to share one last word, one last joke or maybe just an exhausted nod of mutual respect.

But no one was there.

His steps froze.

Evan quickly turned around—and that was when he saw him.

Jonathan was standing at a distance, just past the clearing, his uniform tattered, his face bruised and dusty, but his stance proud and unwavering. His right hand was lifted in a crisp salute, his gaze calm and sharp like a soldier ready for another war.

"I’m staying behind," Jonathan called out firmly, his voice cutting through the noise of the rotor.

Evan blinked. "What?"

"I’m not leaving the battlefield," Jonathan repeated, lowering his hand slowly. "Not until the work here is done."

Evan stepped down from the ramp, walking toward him, baffled. "Are you serious?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Jonathan, you’re no longer in service—this is no longer your responsibility."

Jonathan said nothing at first, only staring out toward the broken buildings and the flickering remnants of fire in the distance.

"I swore I’d never leave a fight half-finished," he muttered.

Evan’s jaw tensed. "There’s nothing left for you to do. The official team is already here. The next steps are up to them."

Jonathan turned his eyes back to Evan, unwavering. "Maybe. But I didn’t fight this far just to hop on a chopper and wave goodbye. I know this land. I know its backstreets, its weak points. I know what’s still hiding in the shadows."

Evan exhaled and shook his head. "Jonathan... you’re not thinking clearly. You’re injured. You’ve spent every last drop of your energy today. Right now, staying back will only slow the new team down."

Jonathan listened to Evan’s words with a heavy gaze, then nodded slowly. "You’re right," he said, voice low but steady. "I agree with everything you just said."

Evan’s shoulders relaxed a little, thinking he had gotten through to him.

But then Jonathan raised his eyes again, firm and unwavering. "But I still refuse to go home."

Evan’s breath caught mid-sigh, staring at him.

"There are still people dying," Jonathan said, his voice filled with quiet fire. "Not just here... but deeper in the town. Families. Children. People who don’t even know what’s really going on."

He took a small step forward, his boots crunching the gravel beneath his feet.

"This is my hometown, Evan. The place I was born. The streets I ran through as a child. The walls that raised me. The air that shaped who I am."

He paused and looked around at the broken skyline, smoke curling from rooftops in the distance.

"I know how this town breathes. I know what it’s like when it’s full of life. And now... now it’s choking, begging for help. How can I just leave it to strangers who don’t know its soul? Who can’t feel what I feel when I look at this place?"

Evan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Jonathan clenched his fists, not out of anger, but out of something deeper. Resolve. Grief. Duty.

"If death comes for me," he said, taking a breath that shook with something close to pride, "then let it find me here, not running away. Let it come in the streets I once played in. In the home I swore to protect."

He locked eyes with Evan, not a single trace of fear in his voice.

"If I’m going to die... then let it be in my hometown." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

He turned his back gently, his shoulders heavy with burden—but his steps carried the fire of someone who had already made peace with his decision.

And that was if he was going to die peacefully.

The motion caught Evan’s whole body like a wave of silent thunder. He stood there, stunned—not by fear, not by surprise, but by the sheer weight of Jonathan’s words. It wasn’t just stubbornness. It wasn’t pride.

It was something deeper.

Conviction.

The kind of conviction that couldn’t be taught in training camps or drilled into someone by orders. It was the spirit of a soldier who had tied his soul to the ground he stood on. A man who had decided that if the world burned, he would still choose to stand on the ashes of his birthplace rather than flee to safety.

The rest of the team stood behind Evan in silence, unsure whether to argue or plead. But how could they? Every word Jonathan had spoken carried something more powerful than a command—truth. A sacred truth only those who had watched their childhood streets torn apart could understand.

There was a pause—a long, drawn-out moment where even the dust in the air seemed to settle.

Finally, Evan stepped forward, his boots slow and heavy. He looked into Jonathan’s eyes, not as a superior officer, but as a brother in arms.

Then, without another word, Evan raised his hand.

And saluted.

A crisp, perfect salute.

One that spoke volumes more than any speech could. One that honored everything Jonathan was choosing to carry.

Jonathan stood straight and returned the salute, firm and steady. Their eyes held for a second longer, full of quiet respect.

"Stay alive," Evan said, his voice low.

Jonathan gave him a small, grateful nod, but didn’t reply.

Then Evan turned to the rest of the team. "Let’s move."