Reborn As Noble

Armand Estate.

Main Corridor.

Javier grumbled as he trudged along the corridor, his footsteps echoing lazily through the marble hall. Both hands buried deep in his pockets.

He let out a long, theatrical sigh.

”Why do I have to be called to this meeting? Ugh... I was right in the middle of crafting the next cylinder part for that thing,” he muttered, eyes half-lidded with annoyance.

”And now Father suddenly calls an emergency meeting? This is going to be a pain in the ass...”

A few steps behind him, Liana and Gloria exchanged amused glances. Their soft steps were so synchronized they barely made a sound.

Gloria smiled behind her hand. ”Young Master~ we’d love to see you say that in front of Lord Garius.”

Liana giggled lightly, her calm voice carrying a teasing edge. ”Please, do enlighten us. I’ll prepare your last will and testament in advance.”

Javier stopped mid-step, turning his head just enough to glare at them over his shoulder. ”Do you both want me to die early?”

Both maids broke into quiet laughter, completely unbothered by his mock irritation.

”I’m being serious,” Javier huffed, resuming his reluctant march down the hall. ”You know as well as I do—even if Marcellus, Cedric, and I teamed up, there’s no guarantee we could land a single hit on him.”

He raised a finger dramatically.

”Not. Even. One.”

Another heavy sigh escaped him, as if the mere thought of his father’s aura was already pressing down on his shoulders.

”No thanks. I’d rather live a peaceful life. Just thinking about one of his lectures is enough to make my ears explode and my brain shut down. He talks like he’s writing a book while giving a speech. With footnotes.”

Liana chuckled softly behind her hand. ”But you always act like a smug genius when it comes to creating something.”

”Ugh! That’s different!” Javier puffed up his chest, pride flashing for a moment. ”I am a genius in crafting and invention. That part’s undeniable.”

Then his shoulders slumped again.

”But fighting Father head-on? No thanks. If the strongest mage and the only true paladin in the world don’t even want to spar with him, who am I to try? Nope.”

He gestured down at himself. ”Even with my mana active, enchantments ready, and combat stance perfect, just one serious stare from him and everything feels small. That pressure? Nope. Not doing it.”

Liana and Gloria exchanged another quiet chuckle, shaking their heads in unison.

Javier shot them both a look. ”And if you two can’t even beat the head of all maids, Erinnette, don’t even think about dragging me into a practice match with Father.”

He jabbed a finger toward them accusingly, then turned away again, muttering under his breath.

”...Please let this meeting be short... Ten minutes. No lectures. No strategy plans. Just a ’hello,’ ’goodbye,’ and ’thank you for your time’...”

Javier stood before the tall double doors.

He exhaled, a slow, steady breath then lifted his hand.

Knock. Knock.

The sound echoed faintly through the corridor.

A soft creak followed as the doors eased open.

The air inside was still.

Heavy.

Liana and Gloria trailed behind him in silence. Their presence was graceful, disciplined. Their steps made no sound against the polished marble floor.

Javier entered slowly, his head lowering slightly in respect. The moment he stepped past the threshold, he could feel it: that silent weight, the pressure that filled the entire room like a tide waiting to crush anything insolent enough to move too freely.

At the far end of the long table sat Lord Garius De Armand.

Calm. Composed. Still.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. But his gaze was already there, fixed on Javier before the boy had even crossed the doorway, sharp, unreadable, and heavy enough to make the faint hum of mana in the air go silent.

Javier hesitated for a moment. Then he stepped forward.

He placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

”...Esteemed Father.”

”Mm.”

A faint nod. Nothing more.

Javier straightened, keeping his composure as he moved toward the empty seat at the far end of the table. His movements were quiet, deliberate, and measured. He sat down carefully.

Behind him, Liana and Gloria glided across the chamber, their expressions shifting to the professional calm of attendants on duty. They took their places along the wall, hands folded neatly, eyes downcast yet alert to every shift of breath in the room.

The silence settled once more.

Only the faint hum of magic from the enchanted sconces filled the air.

Then Garius leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished table, fingers interlacing slowly.

His gaze swept across everyone present.

”Now that everyone is here...”

He clasped his hands together, the faintest creak of leather breaking the silence.

”...We begin.”

Garius looked at everyone seated around the long council table.

”Our first matter today,” he said, folding his hands atop the polished table, ”concerns the refugees.”

”Alf. Report.”

”Yes, my lord.”

Alf rose from his seat.

One of the estate staff moved along the table, distributing the copy of reports to each person present.

Once the last set was delivered, Alf began.

”According to our latest investigation, the majority of refugees currently residing within the Armand region, those registered under the temporary identification decree issued by your order, My lord, are originate from the Arjam Region.”

Javier’s expression tightened as he read the report. He’d already seen the signs with his own eyes, the little girl wandering alone near the northern border town still haunted his memory.

Alf continued, voice firm and even.

”The cause, as confirmed by our intelligence division, lies in the ongoing armed struggle between three noble factions. Following the royal council and the coronation of... ahem... ’His Majesty King Kimar’”

His voice held a faint trace of dry mockery.

”Several nobles have mobilized forces to seize land they now claim as their rightful reward for supporting the crown.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

”The conflict has since escalated into open warfare. Each faction seeks to seize the region in full, only to lose ground and regroup, leading to a cycle of raids and reprisals. Civilian casualties are heavy. Entire villages have been burned or abandoned. Those who survive flee southward, toward our border, seeking shelter under the Armand banner in large numbers.”

A faint sigh escaped from Francesca’s lips.

”So that’s why the numbers keep rising.”

”Yes, madam,” Alf replied with a slight bow.

”Every day, more cross our northern checkpoints. The city overseers have done well to contain and process them, but we’re reaching full capacity in three of the main shelter zones. Food and supply lines remain stable... but should this influx persist, our logistics teams may be forced to draw from reserve stocks.”

( End Of Chapter )