Reborn As Noble

Next Day.

Amazarak Fallen Nation.

Forward Base.

Early morning.

Vane sat on a chair atop the flat rooftop of the main building, a steaming mug of black coffee cradled in both hands. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the early morning sky. The horizon was still dark, fading slowly into soft shades of purple and orange. The air was cool and clean, carrying the faint scent of dew and distant pine.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the stillness settle over him.

This is nice. Calm... no annoying Julius. Just the peaceful morning.

He glanced down at the mug in his hands, watching the dark liquid swirl gently with each small movement.

I can’t believe this world has this bitter bean.

He took a slow sip, letting the bitterness spread across his tongue. It was sharp at first, then mellowed into something warm and grounding. The taste lingered at the back of his throat—bitter, then faintly sweet, then sour.

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth settle inside him, savoring the familiar taste.

I wonder how long it’s been since I last tasted this.

Back in my old world, I didn’t even like this stuff. Too bitter. Too strong. Funny how things change. Back then, I used to drink it just to stay awake through those late nights.

He let out a quiet chuckle.

Now... Sitting on a rooftop in another world, drinking black coffee like it’s the only thing keeping me sane.

He took another sip, letting the warmth spread through his chest.

At least the coffee is good. Better than anything we have back in that continent.

His gaze drifted toward the south of the base, past the wall, where a small cluster of merchant stalls had been set up just outside the perimeter. Tents and carts dotted the open space, with merchants calling out their wares to the soldiers who wandered over during their breaks.

A few days ago, one of the soldiers had come running to me, reporting a suspicious carriage approaching from the south. Moving slowly, with no visible escort.

A single merchant from the Elven Nation, asking for permission to sell his goods to the soldiers.

His carriage was filled with sacks and crates. After checking it, I allowed him to set up his stall outside the base, at a distance, with a warning not to cause trouble.

According to the merchant, this coffee bean comes from Armand.

I was surprised to see it.

He has things that only exist back in my old world.

The rice. The chocolate. The sweets. And a few other things that none of the nations on this continent have ever seen.

And what surprised me the most...

He glanced down at the small cloth pouch on the coffee table. He reached inside and pulled out a small, clear crystal of sugar. It glittered in the faint morning light, pure and white, without a single speck of impurity.

This. Clean, white crystal sugar. Back in my old world, this was common. But here? Refining sugar to this level of purity is nearly impossible. The process requires precision, temperature control, and equipment that doesn’t exist in this world. And yet... this came from Armand. Sold at a price even common people could afford.

In the Divinity Nation, sugar like this is only available to nobles and the wealthy. Even then, it’s dark, coarse, and bitter. A single spoonful would cost more than a commoner’s monthly wage. And yet here it is, pure and white, sold in bulk by a traveling merchant.

How is Armand producing something like this? How do they have things that shouldn’t exist in this world?

He turned the crystal between his fingers, watching it catch the light.

I really want to visit Armand... to see with my own eyes how it looks. How advanced they are.

Jaigar and Gorak, with the party that was sent weeks ago, didn’t send any report or letter at all.

But who cares...

I no longer care about the invasion.

He slipped the sugar back into the pouch and took another sip of his coffee, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

I wonder if the Amazarak people I secretly sent to Armand have already arrived there?

While Vane sat enjoying his peaceful morning, the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs. A soldier appeared at the top, stopping at a respectful distance before saluting sharply.

”Sir Vane. The Amazarak Chief Slave is here.”

Vane’s expression shifted, his relaxed demeanor fading into something calm and serious. He nodded slowly.

”Mm. Bring him here.”

The soldier saluted again and disappeared down the stairs. Moments later, an Amazarak man stepped onto the rooftop. He stopped at the edge of the rooftop and bowed deeply.

”Sir Vane.”

”Mm...” Vane tilted his head slightly, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

The chief moved quietly behind him and began to massage his shoulders with practiced hands, kneading the tension from his muscles.

Vane glanced at the soldier and gave a lazy wave.

”You can go now. Or perhaps you want to massage my feet?”

He started to lift one boot, and the soldier’s face went pale.

”N... no, sir! I... I have some other duties to attend to! I’ll stand guard downstairs!”

The soldier saluted hastily, turned on his heel, and retreated down the stairs before Vane could even finish lifting his foot.

The sound of footsteps faded away. Silence returned to the rooftop, broken only by the distant chirping of morning birds and the soft rhythm of the chief’s hands working Vane’s shoulders.

After a moment of silence, Vane spoke in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

”So... what’s new?”

The Amazarak Chief kept massaging Vane’s shoulders, his hands working in slow, firm circles. His voice dropped into a quiet, measured tone.

”The Amazarak messenger we sent in secret has returned, Sir Vane. They came back through the mountain pass last night, and are now resting at the hidden base. They brought with them a message... and documents. There’s also something else. One item of great importance, given directly by Armand.”

Vane’s eyes narrowed slightly.

”Hmm... So that means our mission to establish contact with Armand was a success?”

The chief paused for a moment, his hands steady on Vane’s shoulders.

”We cannot be certain, Sir Vane. We did not dare open the letter or examine the documents without your permission. Everything they brought back is exactly as it was sealed. Only you can open it. Only you can read what they wrote.”

( End Of Chapter )