Reborn As Noble

From the shimmer of his storage, Javier pulled out a huge chest. The iron bands creaked as it hit the ground, and the lid swung open, spilling a glow of gold coins that caught every noble’s eye.

Gasps and whispers rose. Nobles leaned in, their eyes fixed on the mountain of wealth that dwarfed Marquis Saten’s demand.

Marcellus’s lips curved into a grin, and Cedric followed, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword as he stepped closer, his smirk sharp.

”Ah, little brother,” Marcellus said smoothly, light but with an edge toward those watching.

”Let us help you count the seven hundred gold coins.”

Cedric folded his arms, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

”Yes. After all, one mustn’t risk underpaying such an honorable request.”

Javier blinked, tilting his head at his elder brothers with a puzzled look.

”Errr... where did the extra two hundred gold come from?” he asked, sounding innocent but a little sly.

Marcellus clasped his hands behind his back, his grin calm and noble as he leaned toward Javier.

”Well, consider it our wages for counting the five hundred gold coins,” he replied smoothly.

Cedric gave a short chuckle, his voice carrying the weight of a paladin but tinged with amusement.

”Indeed. A tedious task, don’t you think? Sorting through coins when our little brother is pulling out half the treasury. Seven hundred will do nicely.”

Garius let out a long, measured sigh and raised one hand slightly. With that subtle signal, Hesbeirn and the two Armand elite knights stepped forward and positioned themselves near the glittering piles like silent sentinels. Their presence made it clear: no outsider would touch a single coin.

Meanwhile, Marcellus and Cedric, grinning like wolves in noble attire, crouched by the chest. They both drew their own pouches, the fine leather marked with the Armand crest, and began scooping coins inside with infuriating calm.

”Thank you for sharing with us, little brother~,” Marcellus said smoothly, his grin widening.

Cedric added with mock seriousness, ”Yes, generosity begins at home, after all.”

Javier’s eyes widened as he stomped one foot, pointing an accusatory finger at them.

”Damn it, brothers! Count first before taking your share!”

The exchange drew muffled chuckles from Liana and even a faint smile from some of the Armand retainers, while the surrounding nobles could only stand stiff, their pride squeezed tighter with every coin that clinked into those pouches.

Javier sighed softly, then held up a heavy pouch now full of exactly five hundred gold coins. He handed it to Alf, who walked back and handed the coins to Count Garius.

”My lord.” Alf bowed and passed the gold pouch to Garius.

Garius rose slowly from his seat, the golden glass still in his other hand, and offered the pouch to Marquis Saten with perfect poise. His voice was calm, polished, but every word carried weight.

”Here, Your Honorable Marquis Saten. I believe this matter is settled now. My son apologized in front of your peers and paid the price you demanded. This, I hope, shows how the House of Armand takes responsibility for its own.”

His eyes briefly rested on Javier before moving to his other sons, then back to Saten. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

”Not every household can claim the same. Some fathers spend their days covering for their sons’ folly, arrogance and waste. Yet mine... even in mischief, he does not shrink from accountability. That, Your Honorable Marquis, is the difference between an heir raised to stand on his own, and one left to lean on excuses.”

Marquis Saten’s lips curled into a thin smirk, and his eyes flicked to Marcellus and Cedric.

”Hm... how curious,” he drawled, mockingly. ”Even your eldest sons take gold from their younger brother. What does that show, Count? Greed? Disrespect? A lack of discipline, perhaps?”

The words hung in the air like poison, but Garius only chuckled softly, his smirk calm and deliberate. He raised his glass a little, letting the light catch the crimson liquid.

”Ah... Your Honorable Marquis, no. What you see isn’t greed or weakness.” His tone sharpened, though his smile stayed. ”It is the difference between Armand blood and the households you’re used to.”

”In other families, brothers would draw blades against each other for coin, for inheritance, for power. They scheme, they poison, they kill, driven by fear that only one can rise. But mine...” He looked at each of his sons in turn, ”...they take from each other openly, laugh at one another, and still stand shoulder to shoulder without doubt or envy. They don’t need to plot in shadows, for their worth is proven.”

Garius let his hand drift through the air, gesturing toward the scene behind him. Javier was half-chasing his brothers, while Marcellus and Cedric laughed openly, their pouches jingling with far more than the hundred coins they had claimed.

”This gold we take is ours now, little brother! Kikiki!” Marcellus’s voice rang with laughter.

”You two said you’d take only a hundred gold each, but your pouches are too full!” Javier shouted after them, half annoyed, half laughing.

Garius turned back to Marquis Saten and the gathered nobles, his smirk calm, his tone smooth as polished steel.

”Can you not see the difference, Your Honorable Marquis? Surely, as high as your station is, your eyes must grasp what stands plainly before you.”

He let his gaze sweep over them, then inclined his head slightly toward his sons.

”From all the wealth my youngest has revealed, what do the eldest take? Not jewels, not artifacts, not priceless blades. They take only gold, coin, the simplest treasure. And they take it laughing, with joy between brothers.”

His smile deepened faintly.

”Elsewhere, heirs bleed one another dry. They murder, poison, and claw at their kin for inheritance, for power, for wealth that was never theirs to begin with. Yet mine? They laugh while taking coins, because wealth to them is not a prize to kill for, but a jest to share.”

Garius’s smile deepened, the edges softening into a father’s amusement rather than a lord’s scorn.

”Ah~ do not mistake the scene,” he said, voice smooth and warm.

”I am not withholding their expenses. Those two eldest of mine possess far more than the coin they took from their brother. They may waltz into any of our banks, any chest in the treasury, and draw a hundred gold without a second thought.”

He let the words hang a moment, then his tone shifted, amusement lacing the pride.

”Yet they prefer this, this small theft, this game. It is less about need and more about pleasure: the joy of teasing the youngest, the simple delight of brotherly quarrel. To them, such moments are worth more than sitting in a counting house and signing for funds. It keeps them human, not ledger-bound.”

Marcellus and Cedric’s laughter carried again, bright and unashamed, as they tossed a coin back toward each other.

Garius turned his head, the faintest quirk of a smirk aimed at the assembled nobles, at Marquis Saten in particular.

”So no. This is not a matter of poverty or neglect. It is a custom of our house: wealth shared without ceremony, lessons taught without cruelty, and a laughter that binds rather than rends. If you wish to learn the difference between families, look not at the size of a purse, but at what the sons do with the coins inside.”

The courtyard hummed with uneasy breaths, some nobles reddened, others looked away. Garius’s hand tightened once around his glass, then relaxed. He gave a single, courteous nod toward Saten.

”Now, shall we?” he asked lightly. ”The council awaits.”

( End Of Chapter )