Reborn As Noble

Armand Region.

Healing Place Building

Gilmon stirred with a groan, his body heavy and covered in bandages.

”Ugh... Where am I...? Am I dead?”

A cold voice responded before he could even sit up.

”So you finally woke up.”

Gilmon’s eyes widened. That voice.

He turned his head slowly.

Standing near the wall, arms crossed and eyes sharp, was Hesbeirn.

”You’re awake now, huh... bastard.”

”...ugh... Hesbeirn...” Gilmon muttered.

”If you weren’t this injured, I would’ve punched your face right now.”

”I... I’m sorry...”

Hesbeirn scoffed, pushing off the wall.

”Save your apology. Say it to Lord Garius later. You think this ends here?”

He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the frame. His gaze was cold.

”Don’t even think about running. You won’t get far.”

With that, Hesbeirn stepped out, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the quiet room.

Gilmon lay there in silence, clenching the blanket.

”...I really screwed up this time...”

Inside Gilmon’s Mind

This... this was my mistake.

I was King Edmund’s senior general. I escorted him since he was just a boy... the same way Hesbeirn stood by Garius when they were young. Back then, Hesbeirn, Alf, Erinnette, and I were just teenagers. We were close... like brothers and sisters forged by hardship.

And Edmund... Edmund and Garius? They were the kind of best friends who fought every day. Well... ”best friends.” More like Garius punched Edmund’s face and stole his food during class. Every single day. And somehow, that made them inseparable.

Gilmon let out a bitter chuckle in his mind.

I was there when they were young... I was there when we became part of that special unit—the team tasked to assist them in sealing the Celestials. We bled together. We carried each other out of battles that would have killed ordinary men.

But now...

His jaw tightened.

My king betrayed all of them. After holding back for over twenty years, he broke the sacred oath we made. He freed the Celestial’s power sealed beneath the old noble school. He took it for himself.

And I... I followed him blindly.

Gilmon gritted his teeth.

Edmund is no longer the same boy I once swore to protect. He’s something else now... something dark, something twisted.

And he’s not the only one.

Gumarak... Gurdan...

Gilmon’s thoughts turned bitter, heavy with shame.

They too betrayed Garius... betrayed Lioness, Mylezra, and Veldrac. Those four... they still stood together. Still loyal to the oath we all once took. But Gumarak and Gurdan.

They chose borrowed power over loyalty. They sought out Celestials of their own. Thinking they could keep up. Thinking they could stand equal to Edmund... or stop him.

He closed his eyes, remembering the chaos that followed.

Fools.

In the end, they were just stepping stones. Gurdan fell... devoured. Gumarak? If not for Javier sealing the Celestial inside his body with that strange white cube, he would’ve been consumed too.

And Edmund...

A cold shiver ran down Gilmon’s spine.

He now holds them all. Every Celestial that was once sealed. All except the Seventh. And he’s reached the fifth stage... that cursed, monstrous fifth stage.

His fists clenched beneath the blanket.

I don’t even know how to stop him anymore. I couldn’t even stand when he activated that power. The pressure alone was enough to drop an army to their knees. That dark aura... it wasn’t just power. It was despair itself.

So heavy, so absolute... like standing before death and knowing nothing you do will matter.

Gilmon shifted slightly on the bed, trying not to wince from his wounds.

Then... he felt it.

A chill—like a blade pressed against his neck.

His gaze slowly moved toward the door.

Standing there.

Maid uniform. Impossibly clean. Perfectly pressed.

Expression?

Blank.

Eyes?

Murderous.

”Ah...”

Gilmon swallowed hard.

Erinnette.

Still scary as ever.

Those eyes... damn it... those eyes could kill a wyvern mid-flight.

He tried not to move. Maybe she’d vanish if he pretended to be asleep again.

No luck.

Her glare intensified.

I’m doomed. I’m so screwed.

But just as he opened his mouth to say something.

Or maybe beg for mercy.

She vanished from the doorway like a phantom.

Gilmon blinked.

Relief? No. Because.

A second later, another shadow stepped into view.

Slick black coat. White gloves. Not a wrinkle on him.

A quiet pressure filled the room, calm... yet suffocating.

Gilmon’s face turned pale.

Alf.

The butler of Armand. The shadow.

Garius’s lifelong escort.

The strongest assassin ever born in this kingdom.

Ugh... that can only mean one thing.

Garius is nearby.

The man who always looked like some weak noble sipping tea behind his desk. The man who wore no armor, held no flashy weapons, and smiled like he was too lazy to bother with anything serious.

But those who knew him... truly knew him...

They understood.

He was the human who fought Celestials head-on.

Not with brute strength, but with terrifying precision.

And sealed them, like it was routine business.

Gilmon had seen it with his own eyes.

The battlefield, when it was chaos. Allies bleeding. Enemies rampaging. A Celestial roaring in madness.

Garius walked forward. Calm. Expressionless. Unshaken.

And then the tide turned instantly.

That day burned into Gilmon’s memory.

Even Edmund, back when he hadn’t yet fallen to the madness of Celestial power, once admitted it.

”Garius is strong,” Edmund had said. ”But it’s not his spells or sword. It’s that terrifying eye of his. A cursed blessing. A miracle no one else was born with.”

The Eye of Truth.

The only known power in existence that could perceive everything.

Mana flow, deception, strategy, formation, outcome, intent.

Even when facing something for the first time, Garius could already see the best possible move... and the worst one his enemy would make next.

It wasn’t a skill you could train.

It was an unfair.

Power that made him invincible in war.

And now... he was nearby.

Gilmon trembled.

Not because he feared punishment.

But because facing Garius meant confronting the weight of his own betrayal.

Even if Garius doesn’t raise a hand against me...

Gilmon clenched the blanket.

That gaze... that Eye... will see everything.

How... how can I face him now?

Gilmon’s fists clenched over the blanket.

I failed to stop Edmund... I didn’t even try...

He couldn’t lie.

Not to him.

Not to the man who would stare straight into his soul and see the exact moment he turned his back.

I can’t tell him I couldn’t stop Edmund...

Because he already knew what Garius would say.

”Then why didn’t you come to me?”

”You should’ve stopped him before he took that filth inside him.”

”And if you couldn’t... you should’ve dragged your damn feet to my door and asked me to do it for you.”

Gilmon bit his lip hard, cold sweat running down his temples.

He didn’t need to hear it. He already heard it in his head. Word for word. That piercing tone. That unshakable gaze.

He’s right...

Gilmon squeezed his eyes shut.

I should have. I should have run, begged, crawled... anything.

But he didn’t.

He hesitated. He stood by. He watched Edmund fall, piece by piece, day after day.

Until there was nothing left of the man they once followed.

And now...

Now Garius was near.

And when he walks into this room... he’ll know everything.

Without a word. Without a question.

Just one look from those eyes.

Gilmon’s heart would be stripped bare.

This... is the price of my silence.

( End Of Chapter )