Reborn As Noble

Francesca smiled gently, setting down her teacup as she gazed at her husband.

"Dear?"

Garius, still leaning back in his chair, glanced at her. "Hmm?"

Her warm eyes studied him carefully. "It seems like you've made up your mind about something."

She tilted her head slightly. "Are you sure?"

Garius was silent for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. Then he exhaled. "...Hmm. I don't know what will happen in the future."

"Knowing that our life is really…"

He didn't finish the sentence. They both knew. Life was unpredictable, and the world was always shifting—alliances, wars, fate itself.

Francesca watched him carefully, but she didn't press further. Instead, she simply smiled. "Then… I'll trust you, like I always have."

Garius closed his eyes briefly, a rare moment of peace flickering across his face. "...That's enough for me."

Meanwhile, outside, Javier sat atop Buddy, lightly tapping the reins as he waited impatiently. The elite guards stationed nearby stood alert, their eyes discreetly watching their young master. Even though Javier was strong, his safety remained a top priority.

Nearby, Pikko and Peanuts basked in the warm sunlight, their feathers fluffing up in relaxation. Javier tilted his head back, sighing. "Haaa… what's taking them so long?"

Then—he saw them. Liana and Gloria approached, wearing the warmest, sweetest smiles.

Javier's instincts screamed at him. Err… Umm… Aaa… He could feel it: that dangerous aura, the unspoken punishment for leaving them behind in the command center.

Then, Liana's voice rang out. "Young Master~"

EEEEKKKKK!!!

Javier panicked, gripping Buddy's reins tightly. Buddy, feeling his rider's urgency, squawked loudly, kicking up dirt as he prepared to bolt.

But—there was no escape. Liana and Gloria were already beside him.

Just as Javier was about to make his great escape, Liana and Gloria grabbed him.

"Eeeekkk!!"

With zero effort, they yanked him down from Buddy. Javier barely landed on his feet before his survival instincts kicked in.

He turned and ran. "Liana! Gloria! Let's talk about this—"

"Hmm~?"

Their sweet voices sent chills down his spine. He sprinted around the area, dodging between the Pekkos, his heart racing.

But Liana and Gloria were calmly walking after him, smiling that terrifying, knowing smile. There was no escape.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream echoed from outside. "GYAAAAARRRHHH!!"

The room fell silent for a moment. Alf and Erinnete exchanged glances before breaking into smiles.

Garius barely reacted, his eyes still focused on the reports in front of him.

Eridith? She didn't even blink, too busy munching on roasted meat.

And Francesca? She simply took a slow sip of her tea, her elegant smile never fading.

Garius finally glanced up. "Francesca?"

"Yes, dear?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure you don't want to interfere?"

Francesca calmly placed her cup down. "Hmm? Not really." She smiled softly. "Besides… it's always like that every day."

Garius sighed, shaking his head before returning to his reports.

The Other Side – Klimbert Estate

Inside the grand halls of Klimbert Estate, tension filled the air like a storm about to break. At the center of it all, Duke Ibzles sat, his face twisted in pure fury. The gathered nobles—Viscounts, Count, and other high-ranking lords—were equally unsettled, the atmosphere thick with disbelief, frustration, and barely contained panic.

Then—

Crash!

A goblet smashed against the marble floor, spilling wine everywhere. Duke Ibzles stood abruptly, his eyes burning with rage.

"Are you sure!?"

His booming voice echoed through the hall. The messenger trembled, gripping the scroll in his hands as sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Y-Yes, my lord…" he stammered. "Our 70,000-strong army… has been completely annihilated."

Silence.

Cold. Heavy. Unforgiving.

The nobles gritted their teeth, some gripping their armrests so tightly their knuckles turned white. This wasn't just a defeat; it was an utter disaster.

While Duke Ibzles raged and the other nobles stewed in anger, Klimbert carefully hid his smirk. Inside, he was far from upset. This was expected. More importantly—he still had a plan.

But on the outside—

He furrowed his brows, pretending to share in the anger. "Duke Ibzles," Klimbert spoke in a calm yet 'frustrated' tone, drawing attention to himself. "Perhaps… this happened because we split our forces."

Duke Ibzles narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Klimbert sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Think about it. We sent the first wave—30,000. Then another 35,000. The other remaining 35,000 forces were stationed at the war camp."

He paused, scanning the gathered nobles. "If we had committed fully from the very beginning, maybe we could have won easily."

Some nobles nodded slightly, murmuring among themselves. Duke Ibzles gritted his teeth. "Are you saying this was our mistake!?"

Klimbert raised his hands in a calming gesture. "No, no, my lord. I only mean that we underestimated Armand. That's all."

Inside, he was laughing. Because while the others panicked—he was already looking ahead.

Klimbert, still masking his amusement, stepped forward with a solemn expression.

"Duke Ibzles."

The furious duke turned toward him, his eyes still blazing with frustration. Klimbert bowed slightly, as if offering respect, but his voice remained calm and persuasive.

"I believe I can still spare half of my current troops. However, if we truly want to crush Armand, we should not rely on a few houses alone."

The room fell silent, hanging on his words.

"There are more noble households still supporting this coalition. If every one of them contributes troops, we can assemble an overwhelming force."

Duke Ibzles frowned but listened carefully. Klimbert continued, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

"Our previous mistake was not committing fully. This time, we should go all in—no half-measures."

Duke Ibzles gritted his teeth, then turned to the gathered nobles, his presence commanding.

"Fine! I want every noble house present to send their forces—2,000 or more!"

The nobles stiffened, whispering among themselves.

"We already lost so many troops…"

"Armand isn't weak like we thought…"

"But if we hold back now, we'll lose everything!"

Duke Ibzles slammed his fist onto the table, silencing the murmurs.

"If each of you spares just 2,000 troops, we will have 100,000 soldiers ready for battle. I will personally add 20,000 of my own forces, bringing our total to 120,000."

He swept his gaze over the room, his tone filled with promise and hunger.

"This time, we will wipe out Armand completely. And when we do—"

His lips curled into a cruel smirk.

"You will all be rewarded handsomely when we divide the Armand lands."

Some nobles hesitated, but many—greed ignited—nodded in agreement.

Klimbert hid his smirk once again. Everything was going exactly as he planned.

( End of Chapter )