Reborn As Noble

One week later.

Arjam Northern Gate.

”Alright everyone!!”

The second son of the Garka Household stood atop a crate, one foot raised like a conqueror, his voice booming across the assembled troops.

”Today, we CRUSH the Turka dogs!!” he shouted, puffing his chest. ”How dare they march into Arjam and challenge our authority!? They dare to fight my father for this land?!”

He gestured wildly at the plains ahead.

”We are the GARKA household! We do NOT fear them! And now that I’ve brought 10,000 troops with me, added to the men already stationed here, this day will be THEIR END!”

”YES, YOUNG LORD GARKA!!” the army roared in unison, spears raised, shields clashing.

Chest swelling with pride, the young noble smirked. ”Everyone! Prepare ranks! Move in formation! Show them what Garka steel looks like!”

”We move on my command!”

Meanwhile, not far across the battlefield, the opposing army lined up under a different banner.

”We will seize this land! Today, the Turka Household takes control of Arjam and breaks that border gate down!”

The third son of the Turka Household sat atop his armored warhorse, red cape snapping violently behind him. He stood before a swelling mass of 8,000 soldiers, most of them hungry for victory after weeks of marching.

”Let Garka bark as much as he wants!” he bellowed, his fist raised. ”He won’t be barking when we ram our flags into his precious army! This land should belong to Father, and to ME!”

He pointed toward the border gates in the distance, the stronghold defended by Garka’s men.

”Today we take the land, capture that border gate, and carve our name into the dirt! Let those bastards know: Turka does NOT back down!!”

A roar burst from the Turka soldiers, weapons raised high.

”WE’LL CRUSH THEM!!”

”FOR HOUSE TURKA!!”

”FOR OUR LORD!!”

The young commander lifted his sword into the air, grinning wide.

The sound of drums echoed across the fields, battle horns blaring. Two forces, both led by arrogant sons of ambitious households, charged toward each other like storm fronts about to collide.

Then they stopped mid-march.

Thousands of soldiers from both sides froze in tense silence as the two leaders rode forward alone, staring each other down across the battlefield.

Perched atop his armored warhorse, the third son of the Turka Household raised his chin with a sneer.

”Well, well, well... Look what we got here. An old man still suckin’ his mama’s tit, thinkin’ he can lead an army against the pride of Turka?” He spread his arms mockingly, grinning at the chorus of laughter behind him.

The Garka second son didn’t flinch. He casually tapped the hilt of his sword and smirked.

”Oho? Says the little brat who pisses his bed every night, wipes his snot with his sleeve, and thinks swinging a sword makes him a man? Go home to your daddy before you shit yourself, Turka dog!”

The Turka son scoffed. ”Says the ’man’ who can’t spend a night away from his mama’s skirts. Bet you suck on her tits every time you lose a fight. Just crawl back into her lap and let the grown-ups handle this, mama’s boy.”

The Garka heir’s expression turned cold. ”Big words for a spineless little shit who bends over for his old man. Papa’s favorite, aren’t you? Is that why you got sent here, to bend your ass and beg for mercy when I send you running home, you papa’s boy?”

”How dare you, you Garka bastard!” the Turka son bellowed, face red with rage.

”Huh!? What now, Turka son? You mad ’cause I called you papa’s little toy?” The Garka son grinned, voice rising to a mocking pitch. ”Maybe I’ll beat your ass so hard today, your daddy will have to carry you back home.”

”Oh, really? Big talk for a boy who’ll be running back to mommy before lunch! I’ll shove that silver spoon down your throat and send your body back in a sack!”

”You Turka dogs think you can scare us with that half-assed formation? I’ll send you crawling back to your mothers before you even touch our front line!”

”Yeah? Bring it on, snot-nosed brat! Your men won’t last a single push. Maybe if you beg, your daddy’ll treat you gently in your new bed.”

The tension on the field snapped.

”You want to see who’s the real man, mama boy!?”

”Show it with proof, papa toy!”

”FORMATION!!”

Both sides shouted, troops snapping into position, steel crashing as shields locked and banners rose. The war horn blasted across the field.

Just as the frontlines readied to charge, the entire battlefield froze.

Every soldier turned, startled by a single, thunderous footstep echoing across the plain.

From between the rising dust, a lone figure approached.

A young man, tall and sharp, yawning loudly as he walked lazily down the center of the battlefield. His coat, jet black with gold trim, bore the emblem of Armand gleaming on his chest.

”What the hell...?” one soldier whispered.

The man stopped atop a large boulder, one leg propped on it, hands in his pockets. His eyes half-lidded, voice calm yet bored.

”What are you two idiots doing?” Javier asked, his tone dry. ”Hmm?”

Every soldier’s gaze turned toward him.

Javier tilted his head, his golden crest catching the sunlight. ”Who said either of you could fight for this land? Don’t you both know this land already belongs to Armand?”

”Huh!? Who the hell is this shithead!?”

”How dare you declare that in front of our banners!”

Javier’s mouth curved into a lazy smirk. ”Ah~ so the ’papa toy’ and ’mama boy’ finally speak~?” He gave a slow, mocking clap. ”I swear... it’s impressive how dumb you both are. You really didn’t know what’s been happening this past week? Wow. Just... wow.”

The Turka son gritted his teeth. ”Don’t make me laugh, little shit! One man can’t stop two armies. Even if you are Armand, you’re still alone out here.”

”Did you not hear me? I said this land belongs to Armand. piss off back to your daddies before you get embarrassed in front of your whole army.”

Turka’s son and Garka’s son exchanged looks, anger rising.

”Let’s just kill this bastard who claims to be Armand!”

”He’s alone anyway!”

Javier dug his pinky into his ear, cleaning it lazily before blowing off the dust. ”Ah~ this is getting boring already.”

He snapped his fingers.

The ground trembled slightly.the sound of synchronized marching boots thundered from behind him.

From the horizon, soldiers of Armand advanced in perfect formation. The golden Pekko crest fluttered high above the columns. Behind them, metallic glints reflected the sunlight, battle drones sweeping overhead, puppet knights lining up with rifles gleaming under mana charge.

Javier smiled faintly, voice calm but laced with finality.

”Well, papa toy and mama boy... I guess this is your cue to stand down and leave Arjam for good.”

He waved his hand dismissively, tone dripping with mockery.

”Shoo, shoo.”

( End Of Chapter )