Reborn As Noble

Other Continent.

Orthosia Empire.

King Thaddeus sat upon his gilded throne, his bloated form spilling over the edges of the seat. His fingers were adorned with heavy rings of gold and gemstones, each one a symbol of his wealth and status. His robes were woven from the finest silks, embroidered with threads of gold and silver, and layered with furs and jewels that clinked softly with every movement.

His face bore the marks of a life of indulgence, sagging jowls, a bulbous nose, and small, beady eyes that gleamed with lazy arrogance.

To his right and left stood his royal advisors, each clad in fine robes, their postures respectful but rigid, keeping a measured distance from the throne. Below them, on both sides of the hall, the nobles of Orthosia were seated in order of rank, their eyes fixed on their sovereign.

Thaddeus leaned heavily on the armrest of his throne, his voice carrying a tone of bored authority.

”So... Archduke Gularis. How the preparation for our grand endeavor? And how do our summoned heroes fair?”

Archduke Gularis, one of Thaddeus’s own siblings, rose from his seat and offered a deep, respectful bow before speaking.

”Your Imperial Majesty, all proceeds according to plan. Our preparations are nearing completion. The supply lines are secured, the troops are stationed and ready, and the nobles have pledged their full support. Our summoned heroes remain in high spirits and are eager to prove their worth in the coming campaign.”

Thaddeus shifted his weight, leaning his cheek against his knuckle as his lazy gaze swept over the gathered nobles.

”How much longer must we wait? The small continent to the south is already under our heel, its people bowed and its resources flowing to our coffers. Yet we delay.”

He let out a scoff, his voice dripping with contempt.

”Those nations on the other continent, humans, elves, beastkin, they are nothing compared to our forces. Their weapons are primitive, their magic outdated, their armies disorganized. I grow bored waiting. I want war.”

Archduke Gularis bowed his head lower, his voice measured and cautious.

”Your Imperial Majesty, our army shares your eagerness. However, the goddess has decreed that the time is not yet ripe.”

Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of impatience cutting through his lazy demeanor.

”It has been more than seven years, Gularis. Seven years! How much longer must I wait?” His voice rose, carrying a sharp edge of frustration. ”We possess flying ships that can rain down punishment upon our enemies from above. We crushed an entire continent in mere days with that power! And yet you tell me we must wait for those primitive savages across the sea?”

He leaned forward, his rings clinking against the armrest.

”I want to see their cities burn. I want to hear their screams. I want to remind them why Orthosia is the true power of this world. Yet we are told to wait for... what? For the stars to align? I tire of these divine delays.”

Gularis bowed again, his voice cautious. ”Your Imperial Majesty...”

But Thaddeus cut him off, leaning back lazily and tapping his fingers against the armrest in a slow, impatient rhythm.

”During these seven years, we have upgraded everything. Our weapons, our equipment, our tactics. We replaced the old flintlock muskets with bolt-action rifles. We replaced cannonballs with artillery shells that can tear through walls like paper. We have stockpiled so much ammunition that it will rot before we ever get to use it.”

He let out a mocking laugh.

”All those bullets, all those shells, just sitting there, waiting to be used against those primitive savages. And our flying ships? They are faster now, more maneuverable, more deadly than ever before. We crushed the southern continent in days with our old ships. Imagine what we could do now.”

The nobles remained silent, their eyes fixed on their king.

Thaddeus continued, his voice dripping with arrogance.

”If we had attacked them seven years ago, we would already own those lands. We would have access to their resources, their wealth, their people. And with those resources, we could have pushed forward and set our sights on the Dragon Continent.”

A murmur rippled through the nobles. Eyes widened in shock and awe.

Thaddeus’s lips curled into a cruel, arrogant smirk.

”The age of dragons ruling the skies is over. They have hoarded their treasures and their power for too long. It is time for chosen humanity, for Orthosia, to claim what is rightfully ours. The skies belong to us now.”

Thaddeus’s gaze swept over the nobles, a cruel smirk curling on his lips.

”That goddess Maekaria should not have made me wait this long. If she truly wanted our aid, she should have informed me of the timing herself, not leave me sitting here like a fool, waiting for her divine whims. And those summoned heroes of hers? What have they done besides scratch their balls and jerk off their pussies while wasting my money? My own money! They eat my food, drink my wine, sleep in my palaces, and what do they give me in return? Nothing but empty promises and delays.”

Gularis’s eyes widened in alarm. ”Your Imperial Majesty, if the heroes were to hear this...”

”So?” Thaddeus leaned to the other side, his smirk unwavering. ”What can they do? Those lowly heroes should know their place when standing before me, a true Imperial King. I am not some puppet ruler for them to manipulate. They answer to me, not the other way around.”

Before Gularis could respond, the main doors of the throne room burst open. Several of Maekaria’s summoned heroes strode in, their faces twisted with arrogance and anger.

”We heard what you said about our goddess, King Thaddeus,” one of them spat, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Thaddeus didn’t flinch. He met their gaze with cold, unyielding eyes.

”Good. Then you heard the truth. Your goddess has kept me waiting for seven years. Seven years of preparation, of stockpiling, of wasting my resources. And what have you heroes done to speed things along? Nothing. You are useless to me until you prove otherwise. So tell me, are you here to prove me wrong, or are you here to whine like children?”

The hero at the front, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, spat on the polished floor, his eyes blazing with fury.

”If you weren’t a king, and if our goddess hadn’t ordered us not to cause trouble, we would have killed you right here, right now.”

Thaddeus smirked, his posture remaining lazily sprawled on his throne.

”Is that so? How about this, then. If any of you can kill me right here, right now, the one who succeeds will have my throne and my empire. Don’t worry, no one will blame you. It will be my own decree. None of my soldiers or advisors will intervene.”

The hero’s eyes widened for a moment before a savage grin spread across his face.

”You said it yourself!”

In the blink of an eye, the hero vanished, reappearing mid-leap above the throne, his weapon glowing with raw power and swirling magic as he brought it down toward Thaddeus’s head.

Thaddeus yawned, still leaning on his knuckle.

”Too slow~”

He flicked his finger, a small crystal sphere dropping from his sleeve. It detonated in a blinding flash of light, disorienting the hero mid-leap. Then, with a casual motion, he pulled a blast gun from behind his back and fired.

The explosive round struck the hero square in the chest, sending him crashing into the far wall. He crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain, his face bleeding, a gaping hole torn through his armor and body.

Thaddeus stood up lazily, dusting off his robes with an air of boredom.

”Weak.”

He turned to the nobles, waving a dismissive hand.

”Everyone is dismissed.”

He then fixed his gaze on the remaining heroes, his voice cold and commanding.

”Tell your goddess to meet me personally. It is time to set a date for the invasion. I am done waiting.”

He began to walk away but paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.

”Now you see why no one dares to take this throne from me. I may be fat. I may look lazy. But I am the Imperial King. The King of All Kings. Never forget that.”

( End Of Chapter )