Reborn As Noble

As she dangled helplessly from Javier’s back, her mind drifted. She wasn’t focused on this humiliating moment; instead, her thoughts pulled her back to before the nightmare began—back to Amazarak’s grand castle.

—

Zania had been training, pushing her combat limits in the warrior courtyard when a royal Amazarak warrior approached her.

”Princess Zania. The Queen requests your presence at the royal palace.”

Zania paused mid-training, her eyes narrowing. The Queen. Her sister. Zephyra. She never called for an audience like this.

As Zania entered the grand throne room, the air felt heavier than usual.

At the very end—upon the throne—sat Queen Zephyra. Cold, regal, unreadable. Her eyes gleamed beneath her dark veil, her presence absolute.

But Zania’s focus shifted. Before the throne knelt a man—a human—missing his left hand. Zania’s brows furrowed slightly.

A human? Here? Who is he?

She had never seen this man before, yet something about him felt wrong.

Still, she knew better than to question openly. She stepped forward, placing a hand over her chest and bowing slightly as she spoke.

”Your Majesty, I have come as requested. May I ask why you have summoned me?”

Her tone was polite and respectful—yet careful. Despite being her sister, Queen Zephyra was still a ruler above all else.

And Zephyra watched Zania closely, her gaze remaining cold as she called out,

”Zania.”

Zania immediately straightened her posture.

”Yes, Your Majesty?”

A brief silence followed.

”Take a seat.”

Zania’s brows furrowed slightly. This was different. Still, she obeyed. With a graceful bow, she lowered herself onto the chair prepared for her, instincts warning her that something was amiss.

Zania remained still, her posture perfect, her face calm—but inside, her mind raced. Something felt off.

Queen Zephyra took a slow sip from her drink, her fingers tapping lightly against the obsidian goblet. Finally, she spoke.

”Human… come forward and introduce yourself.”

Her tone was measured, regal, and expectant.

The man without a left hand stepped forward. Zania’s sharp eyes flickered to him, taking in his worn yet steady stance, battle scars, and an aura of confidence despite his missing limb.

”My name is Kenjirou.”

”I was one of the heroes summoned by the human kingdoms. Our purpose was clear—to protect humanity from the threats of this world.”

Zania’s brows furrowed further. A summoned hero? Her people had spoken of humans brought from another realm, blessed with power to stand against great evils. But if that were true, why was he here, in Amazarak, a kingdom of warriors, monsters, and outcasts?

She listened in silence.

Kenjirou’s expression darkened as his remaining hand clenched into a fist.

”The world is lost, drowning in chaos. People suffer, wandering without purpose. The Saints… they showed me the truth.”

His voice grew more passionate, righteous.

”They gave me a mission—to bring people to the light, to save them from their ignorance and sin.”

Zania’s fingers tightened around the arms of her chair.

But then—

Kenjirou’s tone dropped, eyes hardening.

”And that is when I learned about Armand.”

Zania’s ears perked up. Armand? She had heard the name before—a noble house, but a powerful one.

Kenjirou’s expression twisted in disgust.

”That land… it is a place of oppression, cruelty, and tyranny.”

His voice turned heavy with sorrow.

”Those who sought the truth—the light of the Three Gods—were hunted down, killed, slaughtered without mercy.”

Zania’s eyes narrowed as a tense atmosphere filled the room. Even the warriors nearby shifted slightly, murmuring among themselves.

Kenjirou continued.

”The Lord of Armand—Garius—does not tolerate faith in his lands.”

His face contorted in grief, and despite the sorrow in his voice, his body remained steady. Zania listened intently.

”My friends and I… the other summoned heroes…”

He paused, swallowing hard. Then, with a voice full of pain, he continued—

”We came to Armand in peace.”

Zania’s brows furrowed deeper.

Kenjirou clenched his fist, trembling.

”Yet one of Garius’ sons… slaughtered them.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Kenjirou’s shoulders shook, tears gathering in his eyes. His voice broke as he whispered—

”They burned villages… killed the people… hung and burned them like animals.”

Murmurs spread through the throne room.

He continued, his voice weak and broken.

”I... I tried to defend the people. My friends and I fought to protect the innocent.”

A pause followed.

”But... we failed.”

His sobbing intensified.

”They all died. I watched them fall, one by one… and the devil of Armand—”

His gaze darkened, filled with a raw, fabricated hatred.

”—he enjoyed it. He tortured us. Laughed as he cut my friends down. He took pleasure in our suffering.”

Zania felt a chill run down her spine. The warriors stiffened, some gripping their weapons tightly.

Kenjirou’s voice trembled.

”I was the only survivor.”

His voice broke, heavy with devastation.

”But thanks to the Goddess… she saved me. She brought me here to this land.”

Zania’s hands trembled slightly as her thoughts raced.

(The humans of Armand… did all that?)

(Garius’ son… that monster… he killed them for fun?)

Kenjirou’s voice grew stronger, unwavering.

”Now, I will train harder. I will grow stronger. And I will protect this kingdom.”

Tension surged in the throne room. The warriors’ anger flared, murmurs spreading like wildfire, their faces flushed with rage and disgust.

Zania believed him—every word. Her chest tightened with fury. Her sister had told her stories of human cruelty—how they looked down on Amazarak. But this... this was worse than she had imagined.

They burned villages? Killed innocent people? Butchered heroes who came in peace?!

Her fingernails dug deep into her palm. And that son of Armand... that devil... he reveled in it?

As she stared at Kenjirou, watching tears stream down his face, something inside her snapped.

”…This cannot go unpunished.”

The words slipped from her lips, low but brimming with venom. Zania’s breath came heavy, her hands still trembling.

Her sister—Queen Zephyra—sat upon her throne, her expression darkening. For the first time in years, she looked furious.

”That Garius…! How dare he do this?”

Her voice echoed through the grand hall, sharp and filled with rage.

”He is a noble! A ruler! And yet, he acts like a tyrant?”

Zania gritted her teeth, nodding in fierce agreement.

Suddenly, one of the humans from the group stepped forward, falling to one knee before Zephyra, lowering his head.

His voice trembled, thick with emotion.

”Your Majesty, that man is worse than you know.”

”He is on good terms with the demons.”

The room fell silent. Zania’s eyes widened. Zephyra’s fingers twitched slightly.

The man continued, his voice heavy with feigned sorrow.

”He is a cultist… a worshipper of the Devil. That is why he slaughters those who seek the light of the Three Gods.”

A murmur spread among the Amazarak warriors. Zephyra’s anger deepened, her eyes burning with fury.

”Really…?”

Her tone was low and dangerous.

Kenjirou bowed his head lower, still kneeling. With a pained voice, he whispered,

”If only I had been stronger… if only I could have stopped them…”

His remaining hand clenched; the stump of his left arm trembled.

”But now… it’s pointless.”

Zephyra stood, her elegant black and crimson dress flowing as she descended from the throne. She approached Kenjirou, gazing down at the broken hero kneeling before her.

Then she spoke.

”Do not worry, human.”

Her voice was cold and absolute.

Then—a slow, sinister smile crept onto her lips.

( End Of Chapter )