Reborn As Noble

Chapter 876: When Passive Means Risk ( 876 )

Garius’s gaze swept slowly across the room.

“Now,” he began, his voice calm yet carrying authority, “the next matter is important. It will decide whether we act, or remain neutral.”

Every eye turned toward him.

He leaned back slightly, his hands folding neatly atop the table.

“Three envoys from the Arjam Region came to me earlier.”

His tone deepened, his expression sharpening.

“They requested assistance for their region. As you all know, Arjam is currently lordless. Nobles are sending their troops to seize whatever land they can, and the so-called temporary government lacks both the authority and the means to restore order.”

He paused, then glanced to his right.

Alf rose promptly. “As Lord Garius stated, our investigation confirms that the Arjam Region has fallen into complete disarray. Since the death of its last lord, structure and law have all but collapsed. Bandits and rogue knights roam freely, looting border villages and intercepting merchant caravans.”

He turned a page in his folder before continuing.

“Even the local militias have splintered, some have pledged to noble factions, others have sold their swords as mercenaries. The few that remain loyal to the people are under-equipped and too few in number to maintain peace. Several towns now operate under self-proclaimed councils, but none hold the power to unify the region.”

Garius listened quietly, his gaze unmoving, but his eyes grew darker with each word.

“As you all know,” he said finally, his voice low, “we, the Armand, have no obligation to act. Arjam is the crown’s responsibility, not ours.”

He let the silence settle for a moment before continuing, tone heavier, deliberate.

“However… if we do nothing, the consequences will still reach us. More refugees will pour across our borders. The northern trade routes will be strained.”

He exhaled softly, his fingers tightening slightly against each other.

“Even if our own merchants remain safe, the issue lies with the foreign traders who come to buy our goods. If they cannot pass safely through Arjam, the flow of commerce will slow, and the influx of refugees will worsen. Both will destabilize the balance we’ve worked to maintain.”

Garius leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as his gaze shifted toward Aelius and Athine.

“The trade routes are not our biggest concern,” he said calmly. “Aelius and Athine have already ensured stability along our major lanes. And as for goods…” He paused, his tone steady but thoughtful. “We still maintain open channels with our allies—the Demon Kingdom, the Beastkin Kingdom, and the Elven Kingdom. Trade flow will not be an issue.”

He shifted slightly, his voice lowering with deliberate weight.

“If we choose to assist the Arjam Region, it means committing Armand troops and resources beyond our border. It will be seen as a statement to the Kingdom.”

Everyone knew what he meant. Garius had neither pledged loyalty nor opposition to the new ruler, King Kimar. His silence alone had already become a form of quiet defiance.

“But…” he continued, his tone even, “if we remain neutral, the Arjam Region will likely collapse into complete anarchy. And those people, will keep coming south. Every week, every day. Eventually, the burden will spread across our land.”

His gaze moved slowly around the table before stopping on one person.

Javier.

The boy was fiddling with mana, using creation magic to transmute a fragment of iron ore, melting it, reshaping it into a cube, then back again into liquid form just to pass the time.

The faint hum of energy vanished the moment Garius’s eyes landed on him.

Javier froze. “A–ah… s-sorry.”

“Now, Javier,” Garius said quietly, his tone unreadable.

“Y–yes, Esteemed Father?” Javier sat upright at once, straightening his back.

Garius’s expression remained calm, but his words carried a subtle edge.

“Since you were the last to arrive,” he said evenly, “and since we have already discussed this matter in full before you entered, let’s hear your thoughts before the council or me decide.”

The room fell silent again. All eyes turned toward Javier, waiting.

Here we go again… Javier thought.

He stood slowly, feeling every eye in the room shift his way. From the corner of his eye, he caught Liana and Gloria sitting in the attendant section, both trying to stifle their laughter.

Ceh… they’re enjoying this way too much.

Javier let out a quiet sigh, forced himself to keep his tone steady, and glanced at his father, who, despite his serious expression, wore the faintest hint of a smirk.

Inside, Javier’s thoughts raced.

Father’s already seen everything with those Eyes of Truth. He’s a better strategist than anyone. I bet he knows exactly what I’m about to say, and probably already weighed out every risk and outcome.

The problem is… I have no clue what his actual plan is.

What he’ll do if things go wrong, or how he’ll react if I take the bait.

All I know is, whatever happens, the burden always falls on me in the end. Sigh.

It’s not that I hate him… it’s just… dealing with that mind of his, that brilliance…

Sometimes it feels like he’s already played this scene a hundred times before I even get to speak.

And now, since I was late, he wants me to say it out loud, just to test if I’ve caught up.

Alright… let’s get this over with.

Javier cleared his throat, stood a bit straighter, and spoke in a calm, steady voice.

“Regarding our problem with the request from the Arjam envoy, we, as Armand, do have several choices to consider.”

He glanced down at the report in front of him, using it more to anchor his nerves than to actually read.

“We could choose to do nothing and remain neutral. We could let the Arjam Region face its own fate, seal the northern border, issue strict warnings to refugees that no entry will be allowed without proper clearance. But that won’t stop people from trying to enter, or from sneaking in some other way. And we, the Armand, are not heartless.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“We’ve already done more for them than anyone else. Unlike other nobles, or even the Kingdom, we’ve given shelter, food, and basic needs to those seeking refuge.”

Javier lifted his eyes, his tone steady but clear.

“But if we keep this neutral stance, the problem will only get worse. Refugee numbers will rise, disease and crime will increase, hunger will hit the camps, and trade routes will remain crippled.”

He let the weight of his words linger before continuing.

“And there’s one more danger, religion. Here in Armand, we allow freedom of belief as long as it harms no one. There is only one exception: the Saint of the Three Gods sect.”

He let the name hang in the air, his expression tightening.

“They kill those who refuse their doctrine. They force tithes, manipulate the desperate, and twist war into some kind of holy crusade. They were the ones who incited the Noble Coalition War against us.”

He glanced around the table.

“If we stay passive, that sect will try to take root again. Especially among the refugees, since we know most from the Arjam Region practice that faith. We’ve already warned them: no preaching, no spreading doctrine in Armand. Our people know to report any attempts immediately.”

( End Of Chapter )

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