Reborn As Noble

Hesbeirn stood waiting in the prisoner processing area, arms crossed, his massive frame making the surrounding guards look small in comparison.

When he saw Javier approaching, while liana dragging the Amazarak girl along and he saw Liana smiling far too much, he let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Really, Young Master?" His deep voice rumbled through the room.

"I don't know how you convinced Lord Garius, but whatever…" His shoulders slumped slightly, clearly tired.

Javier's grin widened. "Don't worry, Uncle!"

Hesbeirn twitched. "Damn brat, calling me uncle…!"

The surrounding knights and officers looked away, trying to hide their smirks.

It wasn't every day they saw the great General Hesbeirn—commander of Armand's elite forces—treated like an actual uncle by Javier.

Javier just laughed.

Liana smiled sweetly at Hesbeirn and spoke in a calm, polite tone. "General, do you want us to process this bitch quickly, or should I prepare the chopping block?"

Zania flinched violently.

Hesbeirn sighed again, rubbing his temples. "Enough, Liana. Just put her through the damn process."

"Uncle, you sound so tired," Javier chuckled.

Hesbeirn glared at him. "Whose fault do you think that is?"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Our officers already set up the gallows in the center of Gaze City for the public execution." He gestured vaguely. "Now we have to take it down again."

Javier, still grinning, waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, no need, Uncle. Just leave it there for a week."

Hesbeirn frowned. "Huh? What for?"

Javier's expression shifted. His grin faded, and his casual, mischievous aura melted away. For the first time in the conversation, his gaze turned cold—serious, deadly.

"So the enemy knows we're serious." His voice held no trace of amusement.

Hesbeirn's eyes narrowed.

The room grew quiet.

Javier wasn't joking.

"So they think twice before doing bad things to my people." His words were calm, steady, absolute.

Everyone in the room understood.

Javier might be young. He might be playful, mischievous—lazy, even.

But when it came to his people?

He was an Armand.

And an Armand never forgives threats to their own.

The tension in the room was thick.

Javier's cold words still lingered in the air.

Everyone felt it—the shift, the weight behind his declaration.

A smirk broke the silence.

Javier grinned, his usual playful mischief returning.

With a dramatic flourish, he reached into his magic storage and—

Poof!

A puppet made of pillows flopped onto the floor, sporting comically stitched eyes and a goofy expression.

Javier held it up proudly. "Maybe we should hang this one instead?"

Silence enveloped the room.

The officers blinked in disbelief.

Hesbeirn stared, "…What?"

Liana covered her mouth, stifling a giggle.

Gloria adjusted her glasses, trying not to smile.

Javier spun the pillow puppet in his hands, continuing with a completely serious tone: "I'm sure Buddy will be happy to play with it."

"Cuquawked!"

Everyone turned toward the open window where Buddy, Javier's beloved Pekko, had his head tilted, staring as if genuinely considering it.

Hesbeirn rubbed his temples. "Damn brat…" he muttered under his breath.

Zania sat frozen, her mind racing.

Why?

Why was everyone laughing?

Why was the man who just declared their seriousness against enemies now joking about hanging a pillow puppet?

Why did no one—not even the soldiers—take this seriously?

What kind of place was this?

Hesbeirn sighed, shaking his head before turning back to Javier. "Are you sure you don't want to use a slave collar on this girl?"

Zania tensed at the suggestion.

Javier, still holding the pillow puppet, smiled. "Ah, no need."

He tossed the puppet aside and stretched lazily. "We don't need to do that. She can run and go back to her kingdom 'if she wants.'"

Zania's heart skipped a beat.

Her breath hitched.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Javier, her eyes widening.

He was letting her go?

But—

"But know this, Amazarak girl."

Javier's voice dropped, chilling the room.

The amusement in his expression faded instantly, and his sharp, piercing gaze locked onto hers.

"Once you step out of Armand's borders…"

Zania's stomach twisted as the air grew thick.

"Then say goodbye to your kingdom."

Javier's words weren't a threat.

They were a promise.

Zania's breath caught in her throat.

Javier's words weren't casual threats.

They were carefully placed daggers, slicing away any illusion of escape.

"Because my father, the Lord of Armand, has already filed an official complaint to our king."

His tone was calm, steady.

But Zania felt its weight pressing down on her.

"And that message has already been relayed to our allies."

Zania's fingers curled into fists.

She knew what that meant.

The Beastkin Kingdom. The Elven Kingdom. Even the Halflings.

All of them had tense relations with Amazarak.

If Armand declared Amazarak an aggressor…

If Javier's father pushed forward with proof…

Her kingdom—her home—would be isolated.

"If you go back to Amazarak," Javier continued, his eyes sharp, "then that means your kingdom was planning to attack us from the start."

Zania bit her lip, wanting to deny it—to scream that this wasn't true.

But deep down, she knew better.

Her sister, Queen Zephyra, never thought things through.

She acted on impulse, pride, and blind hatred.

And now…

Javier leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"I tried my best to persuade my father not to put a slave collar on you."

Zania flinched.

"And he agreed—"

With one condition.

Javier's gaze darkened.

"You don't leave Armand's borders."

Silence enveloped them.

Zania felt suffocated.

"But if you do…" Javier's smirk returned, but his eyes remained ice-cold.

"Just pray your kingdom doesn't fall."

Zania's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Because I'm sure my father's allies—the Beastkin and Elven Kingdom—won't stay silent."

She felt lightheaded.

This wasn't a choice. This was a trap.

Amazarak had no chances of winning a war against Armand and its allies.

If she ran back home…

She would be the reason her kingdom was destroyed.

Javier's smirk widened. "So… choose wisely."

Zania remained silent, her mind racing to grasp the full weight of his words.

But before she could process her thoughts, Javier continued—his voice light, almost playful.

"Well… it's not like we even need our allies to make a move on your kingdom."

Zania snapped her gaze up.

What?

Javier stretched lazily, tilting his head with a smug grin.

"Based on the recent 'Holy War'—the one where the Coalition of Nobles from the human kingdom tried to wipe out Armand…"

A cold shiver crawled down Zania's spine.

She had heard rumors about how the noble factions, backed by the Saint of Three Gods, had declared Armand heretical and raised a massive coalition army to bring it down.

A holy war.

Zania's people believed the coalition would win. After all, Armand was just one noble house.

But—

Javier's grin didn't waver as he continued casually, "They lost over 200,000 troops."

Zania's eyes widened.

That wasn't possible.

She struggled to keep her breathing steady.

Javier's eyes gleamed, his smile turning sharper. "So tell me, Amazarak princess…

"If a 'holy war' of 200,000 troops couldn't bring us down…"

"What exactly do you think your kingdom can do?"

Zania's mind went blank.

Javier stretched and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Oh well, that's what my father asked me to tell you."

Zania remained silent, her body tense.

"And seriously, don't even think about running away." Javier's smirk didn't fade.

"You're lucky enough as it is—not being hanged in public or forced into a slave collar."

Zania gritted her teeth. Lucky? She didn't feel lucky at all.

Javier casually shrugged.

"You're free… well… not fully." He gave her a wink.

"But hey, close enough." Then, without another glance at her, he turned on his heels.

"Alright, Uncle! We're heading out now!"

Hesbeirn, still rubbing his temples, waved a hand.

"Haaa… go, go. I'm busy here."

"Oh, Uncle!"

Hesbeirn groaned. "What now, brat?"

Javier grinned. "Almost forgot—Father said to tell you to rush back to the estate."

Hesbeirn froze. "Huh?"

Javier nodded sagely. "Yep. Bet he's already waiting for you."

A long pause.

"Damn it, brat! You should have told me sooner!"

Hesbeirn bolted out the door, swearing under his breath.

Javier just chuckled. "Ttoo easy."

He rolled his shoulders, letting out a satisfied sigh as he glanced at his two most trusted maids.

"Liana? Gloria?"

The two women straightened slightly, their focus shifting entirely to him. "Yes, young master?"

Javier's lips curled into a familiar smirk. "Let's go. Our pekko are waiting. Besides, there's a place we need to visit after this."

Liana and Gloria exchanged a glance, understanding without needing further explanation. "As you wish, young master," they said in unison. They moved to follow him, their steps light and confident.

But then, Javier came to a stop. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes locking onto Zania, who had been standing motionless behind them. She stiffened.

For a moment, there was only silence between them. Then, his voice cut through the quiet. "And you."

Zania's breath caught in her throat. Javier didn't change his expression, but there was something unshakable in his gaze. His smirk remained, but his tone left no room for argument. "Make sure you follow us."

Zania wanted to scowl, to refuse outright—but she held her tongue. She knew better. Clenching her fists, she forced her legs to move. She didn't have a choice.

( End of Chapter )