Reborn As Noble

Klimbert moved swiftly back into his private study. His hand reached for the ornate family sword mounted above the fireplace—a blade passed down through generations, forged from pure mana steel.

He drew it with a soft sound, the blade gleaming coldly in the firelight. Without hesitation, he channeled his mana into the sword, causing it to glow faintly and hum with restrained power.

A sharp, authoritative knock echoed at the door.

”Come in!” Klimbert barked.

The door opened, and Anem, his loyal butler and chief advisor, entered with a deep bow.

”My lord, you called for me?”

Klimbert didn’t lower the sword; his gaze remained sharp.

”Status. About our troops and the region.”

Anem straightened and replied immediately.

”My lord, according to our intelligence unit...” he said crisply, ”since you refused to attend the recent royal meeting—and declined the king’s request to nationalize all regional armies—there have been some political whispers. Tensions are rising slightly.”

Anem continued calmly.

”However, I have already ordered General to reinforce all security measures around the borders and key locations in our region. The estate itself is under increased watch.”

Klimbert nodded once.

Then his voice lowered.

”Anem.”

”Yes, my lord?”

Klimbert’s eyes gleamed with serious intensity.

”The celestial inside me said there’s another celestial nearby.”

Anem’s expression didn’t change, but a slight shift in his mana aura revealed his alarm.

”Call out our troops.”

”Mobilize the elite guards.”

”Deploy the assassin unit. Surround the estate completely. No one gets in—or out—without my command.”

Anem bowed deeply.

”Don’t worry, my lord. Certain precautions were already put in place the moment you summoned me, per your emergency protocols.”

Klimbert allowed a rare, small smile to touch his lips.

”Good.”

Anem stepped closer, brushing lightly at the back of Klimbert’s cloak with a cloth.

”By the way, my lord,” Anem said smoothly, his voice as polite as ever, ”there’s something on the back of your clothes.”

Klimbert frowned slightly. ”Hmm? What is it?”

Anem bowed slightly, hiding the glint in his eyes.

”If you’ll excuse me, my lord...”

Klimbert waved a hand lazily. ”Go ahead. Clean it.”

”Very well, my lord.”

Anem stepped behind him.

A heartbeat passed.

Then—

SHLUKK—

Klimbert’s body jerked forward slightly. He looked down.

A pale hand burst through his chest, dripping blood, the crimson stain spreading rapidly across his tunic.

He gasped, and the sword fell from his hand, clattering hollowly onto the marble floor.

”A... A... nem...” Klimbert rasped, blood bubbling at his lips.

Behind him, Anem leaned closer, lips curling into a wide, cruel smirk.

Not Anem. Something else.

”Well, well, well... Klimbert, Klimbert, Klimbert...” the thing purred mockingly in Anem’s voice.

Klimbert’s vision blurred, his knees weakening.

”W-what... are... you...?” he managed to choke out.

Anem—no, the impostor—grinned wider.

Then, his body began to shift. The skin rippled, the hair changed color, and the face twisted and reformed.

Standing behind Klimbert now was not Anem—

But King Edmund himself.

Klimbert’s eyes widened in horror as he recognized him—the king who ruled the human kingdom, the king who had called for all the nobles to submit, the king whose ambition had rotted into something dark.

”Didn’t recognize me, Klimbert?” Edmund said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Even as he smirked, Edmund winced slightly, clutching at his side for a moment—as if maintaining this false form caused him pain.

Klimbert, gasping for breath, managed to whisper one last question: ”W-why...?”

Edmund leaned down, his lips brushing Klimbert’s ear, his voice laced with venom. ”Don’t pretend you don’t know...” He smirked. ”’Celestial vessel.’”

At that moment—

Edmund’s eyes darkened.

Not just with malice.

But with something inhuman.

The air twisted strangely, growing cold around them.

And then—

A second voice—high-pitched and almost playful—echoed from Edmund’s mouth, layered over his own voice.

”Hello there~” it cooed, mockingly.

Klimbert’s blood ran cold.

His own celestial, bound to him, screamed in his mind.

”NO—! RUN!!”

But it was far too late.

Edmund reached out slowly, savoring every second.

Klimbert, helpless on the ground, could only watch in horror as a black mist seeped from Edmund’s body, coiling in the air like living smoke.

The mist slithered toward him, toward his celestial core.

Klimbert’s mouth opened to scream—but the sound was stolen from his lungs as the black mist wrapped around him.

Slowly and deliberately, Edmund inhaled—

—and the mist of Klimbert’s soul and celestial was pulled into him.

Like breathing in smoke, like stealing life itself.

Klimbert’s body withered in seconds. His eyes turned hollow and dull. The faint flicker of his mana—a noble flame that had once burned brightly—was snuffed out completely.

The process was slow, cruel, and painful.

And Edmund smiled throughout it all, eyes gleaming with unholy satisfaction.

When it was over, only Klimbert’s empty husk remained, crumpled on the marble floor.

Edmund straightened slowly, wiping a speck of imaginary dust from his shoulder with casual grace—as if he hadn’t just murdered a noble lord in cold blood.

Then, a manic gleam lit up his eyes. The celestial inside him surged with excitement, its presence almost crackling in the air.

”Power! Power!! We grow more powerful!!” The voice shrieked inside Edmund’s mind—elated, wild, insatiable.

He threw his head back and laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the stone halls like a mad king’s coronation.

Outside the private chamber—

The estate was already in chaos.

The remaining elite guards, loyal to Klimbert, had been captured and overpowered by disguised royal troops hidden among Edmund’s forces. They were dragged out one by one, struggling and cursing, some still trying to understand how betrayal had come from within the kingdom itself.

But it was too late for them.

Inside the estate—

Edmund lowered his gaze to Klimbert’s withered corpse, his smile stretching wider.

”One more vessel... devoured.”

The celestial inside Edmund purred in satisfaction.

”Consume them all... and we shall become complete...! A true celestial! The others will kneel... or be devoured too!”

Edmund lightly touched his chest, feeling the unstable power swirling inside him—a growing patchwork of stolen celestial fragments.

Every devoured vessel made him stronger. Every celestial soul absorbed brought him closer to becoming something beyond kingship.

Something divine.

Something absolute.

And he would not stop—

Until every celestial, every rival vessel, was nothing more than another piece inside him.

( End Of Chapter )