Reborn As Noble

The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, trying to reignite the crowd’s enthusiasm. ”Now, the next battle! Does Class F even have a chance left?”

Excitement and doubt buzzed among the spectators as the announcer raised his arm dramatically. ”Here comes the representative from Class A! From the prestigious Marquis Hazlarn household...”

The Class A student, dressed in finely embroidered robes, stepped forward with a confident smirk, waving to the crowd as cheers erupted.

The announcer turned toward the other side. ”And where is the representative from Class F?”

Back at the Class F bench, Liana gently shook Javier’s shoulder. ”Young Master, wake up. It’s your turn.”

”Hmm?” Javier mumbled, still half-asleep. ”Let me sleep a little more...”

”Young Master...” Liana’s tone became more insistent, though still soft.

”Ugh!! Fine...” Javier groaned, sitting up reluctantly. ”Haaa... I wanted to sleep more.” He stretched lazily, letting out a loud yawn, before dragging himself toward the arena with sluggish steps.

”From the right corner!” the announcer bellowed as the crowd turned to watch Javier shuffle onto the battlefield. ”Representing Class F! From the renowned Armand household... Javier De Armand!”

A few murmurs spread through the audience, but most of the Class A supporters snickered at the sight of the boy who looked like he had just rolled out of bed.

Javier finally reached the center of the arena and plopped down into a lazy squat, resting his elbows on his knees and yawning again, completely ignoring the audience.

”You both ready?” the referee asked, looking between the two combatants.

”I’m going to make you pay for what you did to me last time!” the Marquis Hazlarn son growled, glaring at Javier.

Javier didn’t even glance at him, his attention seemingly on a scuff on his shoe.

”Begin the battle!”

The Class A student wasted no time, raising his hands dramatically as he began chanting, his mana swirling around him. ”Oh, great flames of destruction! Burn my enemy to ashes! Massive Fireball!”

The crowd roared in approval as a huge fireball began forming in the air above the Class A student.

Meanwhile, Javier remained squatted, scratching his knee lazily. He then picked up his shoe, examined it, and casually tossed it.

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The crowd gasped as the shoe flew through the air—straight and true—before landing with a loud whack against the student’s face.

The fireball fizzled out instantly as the Class A student stumbled backward, clutching his nose and falling flat on his back, unconscious.

The stadium fell silent, the absurdity of what just happened taking a moment to sink in.

”...Class A’s representative is unable to continue! The victory goes to Class F’s Javier De Armand!” the referee declared, his voice filled with disbelief.

The crowd erupted into chaos—half cheering, half laughing, and some outright stunned by the unexpected result.

Javier lazily walked to retrieve his shoes, squatting in front of Marquis Hazlarn’s son, who now lay unconscious in the arena. Without saying anything, he picked up his shoes and walked out of the arena in a sluggish manner.

Javier stood up, dusting off his hands casually. ”Haaa... can I go back to sleep now?” he muttered, walking off the arena without sparing a glance at his defeated opponent.

Javier strolled back to the Class F bench, yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes. ”Liana... I want to sleep more,” he mumbled, hardly noticing the shocked whispers and stares around him.

”Here, Young Master,” Liana said softly, patting her lap with a serene smile. Javier plopped down without hesitation, resting his head comfortably as she began brushing her fingers gently through his hair.

Within moments, he was dozing again, a content smile on his face.

Meanwhile, the other students of Class F sat frozen, their jaws nearly dropping to the floor.

”Did he just...?” one student muttered, still staring at the arena.

”He defeated a Class A student...” another whispered.

”*...With a shoe!?”

The murmurs spread through the group, disbelief clear on every face. The so-called ”delinquent noble,” who seemed to do nothing but sleep, eat, and play with his Pekko, had just defeated one of the strongest Class A students in seconds—and in the most ridiculous way possible.

”Who... who even does that?” one student finally blurted, throwing their hands up in frustration.

The Class F instructor, who had been biting his nails earlier, slumped back in his chair, his face mixing relief and shock. ”I... I don’t even know what to say anymore...” he mumbled, staring at Javier, who was now peacefully asleep on Liana’s lap, completely unaware of the chaos he had caused.

In the viewing stands, Garius sat calmly, surrounded by all his wives, Eridith, and a group of personal maids, guards, and other staff. The arena buzzed with noise from the astonished crowd, but Garius’s sharp eyes stayed fixed on his youngest son as Javier casually returned to his bench and lay down on Liana’s lap, unfazed by the uproar.

A faint smirk tugged at Garius’s lips. ”Hmph, as expected of my son,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Beside him, Francesca let out a soft laugh, shaking her shoulders slightly. ”Haaa... this boy...” she said, shaking her head in fond disbelief. ”Even in a formal setting, he acts so casually.”

”Casual?” Garcinia chimed in, raising an eyebrow. ”Throwing a shoe to defeat his opponent isn’t casual; it’s downright ridiculous.”

”But effective,” Eridith added with a sly grin, resting her chin in her palm. ”I like his style. That kind of unpredictable tactic keeps people on edge.”

”Unpredictable is an understatement,” Phenelopie remarked, sipping her tea calmly. ”It’s more like he’s playing a game while everyone else is fighting a battle.”

”He’s just being himself,” Francesca said with a warm smile, her eyes never leaving Javier. ”My little honey bun always does things his own way.”

The nearby maids tried to hide their smiles, exchanging amused glances. Even the guards, usually stoic and composed, struggled to contain their reactions to the utterly bizarre display.

”Well,” Garius finally said, his smirk widening, ”if nothing else, he knows how to make an impression.”

The family and their entourage watched as the announcer tried to regain control of the event, focused on the chaos Javier had left behind. But for Garius, there was no doubt in his mind—his youngest son had just made the entire arena remember his name.

The battles continued through the tough preliminary rounds, with each class fighting for dominance in the arena. The cheers of the crowd came and went with every victory and defeat, and the students gave it their all to secure a spot in the main event.

By the end of the qualification battles, the numbers told the story. The announcer’s voice boomed across the arena, drawing everyone’s attention to the center stage.

”Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you’ve all been waiting for!” he declared, his voice full of excitement. ”Which class will emerge victorious this year? And which individual will earn the prestigious title of Strongest Student of the Year!?”

The crowd roared in anticipation as the final numbers were displayed:

Class A: 29 representatives.

Class B: 20 representatives.

Class C: 25 representatives.

Class D: 5 representatives.

Class E: 10 representatives.

Class F: 1 representative.

A murmur rippled through the audience at the big difference between the classes.

”Hah, Class F barely made it!” someone in the crowd scoffed.

”One representative? They might as well forfeit!” another jeered.

Meanwhile, at the Class F bench, Javier remained sprawled lazily on Liana’s lap, completely unfazed by the attention. Liana kept stroking his hair, her calm expression never changing.

”Young Master...” she said softly. ”You’re the only one left. Are you ready?”

Javier yawned, stretching as he sat up slowly. ”Haa... so boring,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. ”Guess I’ll have to do it,huh.”

The Class F instructor stood nearby, biting his nails again, panic and desperation in his eyes. ”He’s the only one left... but it’s him...” the instructor whispered to himself. ”Maybe... just maybe...”

The announcer’s voice rose again, calling attention back to the arena. ”And now, let the main event begin!”

( End of Chapter )