Reborn As Noble

Javier slowly ascended the stone steps to the top of the wall, Buddy following halfway before stopping to peck curiously at a barrel. The wind was quiet now, gentle as it brushed his coat.

Below him, Buddy waited patiently, while Javier looked down in silence. What had once been a sea of halfling soldiers was now merely a field strewn with scattered bodies, scorched earth, and broken weapons. Dark smoke still drifted from the mana cannon strikes.

His masked gaze swept across the battlefield, deep in thought.

Why? he wondered. Why did they choose war? Why not just retreat if they didn’t want to surrender?

Was pride truly worth more than life? Was their stubbornness… worth this much death?

He closed his eyes for a moment, silent.

I gave them a chance. I warned them. I didn’t want to kill anyone.

He exhaled slowly, softly.

But maybe that’s the difference. I fight for something. They fought for nothing but pride.

Javier turned around, hands folded behind his back as he watched the dwarves below.

The once-proud mountain warriors—stocky, muscular, loud and hearty—were now a pitiful sight. Skin clung tightly to their bones. Beards looked unkempt and thinning. Some wobbled as they stirred steaming pots. Others held their bowls like treasure, eyes wide with anticipation.

“…Dwarves,” Javier murmured quietly beneath his mask. “You’re supposed to be loud and annoying, not quiet and starving.”

He watched one soldier, barely more than a boy, shakily lift a piece of meat. His eyes lit up like he was seeing sunlight after years in darkness.

The pots simmered.

The scent of fresh meat, spices, and warm bread wafted through the air.

And the battered, weary dwarves finally smiled.

Javier stayed silent. No orders. No speeches.

Just watching.

Watching how the starving slowly remembered what hope felt like.

Javier reached into his magic storage and retrieved a small, sleek device—his one-way mana drone.

He knelt beside a crate, pulled out a piece of parchment, and began writing quickly. His hand moved without hesitation; every stroke was sharp, deliberate, and precise.

Once he finished, he rolled up the letter, sealed it carefully, and placed it into the compartment built into the drone’s core. Taking a deep breath, he channeled mana through his fingertips, activating the drone’s internal system.

The drone flickered to life. Its wings unfurled, and the humming of the mana core was soft but steady. With a silent thrust, it soared high into the sky, piercing through the orange-tinted clouds like a stealthy rocket—disappearing into the horizon, heading for Armand.

Javier stayed motionless, eyes watching until the drone was out of sight.

Then he lowered his gaze.

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the stronghold walls and stretching long shadows from his still-standing puppet knights. Five hundred of them stood silently along the battlements, unmoving and disciplined.

The air was still now—peaceful, but a peace only found after chaos.

Javier folded his arms behind his back once more and whispered softly,

“Let’s hope this peace holds…”

Dugartz gradually approached Javier, moving with respectful humility.

“Lord Javier… do you need me to prepare your food?” he asked, lowering his eyes slightly.

Javier didn’t turn to look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the distant horizon as the sun sank lower, casting a gentle orange hue over the battered fortress.

“No need,” Javier replied lightly. “Just make sure everyone eats until they’re full… and gets some rest.”

Dugartz hesitated briefly. “Can we at least help with the patrols, Lord Javier?” he asked, bowing slightly with his hands folded before him, awaiting Javier’s response.

Javier shifted his head just enough for his oni mask to catch the sunlight.

“Didn’t I warn you already?” he said smoothly, his voice calm but authoritative. “This stronghold now belongs to me. And I am the one responsible for its protection.”

Dugartz stayed silent.

“Now go,” Javier said, crossing his arms behind his back. “Eat. Rest. Because tomorrow… you’ll have a new task.”

Slowly, Dugartz straightened. The weight on his shoulders seemed a little less heavy than before.

“As you command, Lord Javier.”

Without waiting for any dismissal, he turned around and headed back down the steps.

Javier stood alone, high above, watching quietly.

The fortress, once filled with despair, now rang with cautious laughter, the clanking of bowls, and hopeful whispers.

Meanwhile, in the Beastkin Kingdom.

Princess Felicia rode swiftly through the city, her face calm but determined. She sat tall on her horse, her back straight, eyes fixed ahead. Behind her, several elite guards kept pace silently, matching her speed without a word.

When they reached the gates of the royal palace, Felicia dismounted gracefully, handed her reins to a stablemaid, and carefully adjusted her gloves—her face betraying no sign of fatigue or worry.

She stepped inside with quiet confidence.

“Is His Majesty, King Lioness, currently in the palace?” she asked, her voice steady and clear.

An elderly advisor—one of the most senior in the court—immediately straightened and bowed deeply, placing his hand over his chest.

“Ah! Pardon me, Princess Felicia. Yes, His Majesty was in the council hall earlier. We are honored by your return, Your Highness.”

“I trust nothing has gone off course during my absence?” Felicia’s gaze sharpened, but her voice remained courteous, precise.

“Certainly not, Your Highness. All schedules and security measures were maintained exactly as commanded,” the advisor replied quickly, not daring to slacken in her presence.

Felicia gave a small nod of approval. “Very well. Inform the guards. I will see my father immediately. I have urgent matters to discuss regarding the Dwarven border… and Javier De Armand.”

The advisor blinked, confused. “Javier… De Armand, Your Highness?”

She narrowed her eyes just a little.

“Yes. That young man is no ordinary noble. I need to ensure that Father is fully informed.”

Inside her mind, as she made her way through the silent halls of the Beastkin palace…

Father… I… I’m starting to love that boy.

Her footsteps echoed softly on the shining marble floor. The memory of that day in Gilikan lingered—not just the fight, not only his strength… but that one moment.

The way he panicked when he saw me.

The way he bowed so deeply, trying to apologize.

And when he said he’d take responsibility…

Her cheeks grew warm again, a faint blush rising as her fingers curled at her sides.

…And then I kissed him.

That was her first kiss.

Soft. Honest. A little impulsive.

And Javier, with all his chaos and boldness, stood there utterly stunned—like a guilty puppy caught eating royal meat.

Felicia’s face tightened slightly—half embarrassed, half amused.

She placed her hand over her chest.

“I said I’d tell Father about the promise…”

Her heart started beating faster.

“And I will.”

But even as she approached the audience hall, her steps slowed a little.

Will he accept it? Father… King Lioness… would he allow me to marry a human?

Even if that human… is Javier.

She took a deep breath. Her expression shifted from conflicted to determined.

No. Not just any human. He’s the boy who made my heart race.

The one who didn’t flinch before my sword, and the one who looked at me not as a princess, but as a girl.

A small, knowing smile appeared on her face.

( End Of Chapter )

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