Reborn As Noble

Garius stood calmly, tossing a piece of grilled meat into the air.

Giddie caught it effortlessly, squawking in delight.

The massive golden Pekko wagged its tail feathers, fully enjoying its meal.

Garius chuckled, tossing another exotic fruit.

Giddie snapped it up mid-air, crunching happily.

"My Lord?"

Garius glanced to the side as Alf approached.

The butler bowed slightly before speaking.

"Hesbeirn has arrived with a delegation from the king."

Garius raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm? And who was sent?"

"The royal force army general—General Gilmon. Along with some ministers."

Alf smirked slightly as he mentioned the name.

Garius immediately caught on.

His own smirk appeared as he gave Alf a side glance.

"Oh? You seem to have fun mentioning his name."

Alf cleared his throat, trying to suppress his expression.

"Ah, it's nothing, my Lord."

Garius chuckled, shaking his head.

"Hah… knowing you, it's never nothing."

He tossed another piece of grilled meat to Giddie before stretching his arms.

"Well then… let's see what the king's men want this time."

Javier lay completely still, his ears sharp as he listened to the conversation outside.

The moment he heard Alf mention the king's delegation—

And the way his father reacted…

A wave of relief washed over him.

"Fuhh… lucky that serious man doesn't have time to check on me."

Javier exhaled softly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

If the delegation kept his father busy…

That meant he could continue 'resting' without sudden inspections.

He peeked toward the window, just to make sure Giddie wasn't still watching him.

Seeing that the golden menace was occupied with food—

Javier grinned.

"Nice. Crisis avoided."

He snuggled back under the blanket.

Just as Javier settled back into his blanket, ready to enjoy his peaceful rest—

The door creaked open.

A soft, familiar voice called out.

"Young Master~"

Javier's eyes snapped open.

He turned his head—

And there, sneaking into his room, step by step…

Liana.

Her movements were light and graceful, but there was a playful glint in her emerald eyes.

Behind her—Gloria followed, peeking around the doorway to make sure no one saw them.

Javier blinked, processing what he was seeing. Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire

His two 'injured' maids…

Sneaking into his room.

Liana giggled softly, closing the door behind her.

Gloria pressed her back against the wall dramatically, whispering.

"Clear. No witnesses."

Javier stared at them, dumbfounded.

"…You two. What are you doing?"

Liana smiled sweetly.

"Visiting our precious Young Master, of course~"

Gloria nodded with a smirk.

"Since we got kicked out earlier, we had to wait for the right time to sneak back in."

Javier sighed, shaking his head.

"…You two are ridiculous."

But deep inside—he couldn't stop the warmth spreading in his chest.

They really were back.

And he wouldn't trade them for anything.

Inside the grand main room—the hall designated for official visits and diplomatic matters—Count Garius Armand sat at the head of the long table.

His posture was relaxed, yet commanding.

To his right—Alf, his loyal butler and the deadliest assassin in the kingdom.

To his left—Erinnete, the head of the elite battle maids, standing with quiet authority.

The doors opened, and a familiar voice spoke.

"My lord. The delegation from the royal court has arrived."

Hesbeirn stood at the entrance, his tone professional.

Garius didn't react immediately, simply tapping his fingers against the armrest.

Then—without looking up, he gave a calm command.

"Let them in."

The delegation entered in orderly formation.

At the front—General Gilmon, a high-ranking officer of the royal army.

Behind him—several of the kingdom's ministers, all carrying official documents and reports.

As they approached, Garius finally raised his gaze, meeting Gilmon's eyes with an unreadable expression.

He gestured toward the chairs.

"Take a seat."

The ministers nodded, moving to sit.

The room remained silent—

Until the household maids entered, carrying silver trays of fine dishes and drinks.

A feast was laid out before them—

A gesture of noble hospitality.

But Garius?

He simply leaned back in his chair, watching.

Waiting.

The tense silence in the grand hall was broken as General Gilmon finally spoke.

"King Edmund has issued a royal decree."

He presented the official scroll, its golden seal glinting under the chandelier light.

Alf stepped forward, took the decree with his usual cold efficiency, and placed it in Garius' hands.

Garius read through it in silence, his expression unreadable.

Then, without hesitation, he set the decree down.

"I refuse."

The room froze.

The ministers—men who were used to unquestioned obedience—gasped in shock.

Mouths hung open. Eyes widened.

But none of them dared to speak.

After all—this was Garius De Armand.

A man who had defied expectations time and time again

Gilmon, however, was unfazed.

He simply let out a long, tired sigh.

Because he saw it.

The subtle movement.

The tiny detail no one else noticed.

On the table—next to the royal decree—

Two wooden swords.

Casually placed. As if meaningless.

But Gilmon wasn't fooled.

He recognized that sly grin curling on Garius' lips.

Garius' sly grin widened.

Across the table—Alf sighed, shaking his head in quiet annoyance.

Erinnete pinched the bridge of her nose, already sensing the nonsense about to unfold.

Meanwhile, Hesbeirn?

He wasn't even surprised.

He already knew.

'This is exactly like my lord.'

And Gilmon?

The seasoned general simply closed his eyes for a moment.

Then—he exhaled.

'This bastard… I should've known.'

Garius' grin deepened as he picked up the two wooden swords.

Without another word—he casually tossed them.

One toward Gilmon.

One toward Hesbeirn.

Both men caught them instinctively.

Then—Garius leaned back, arms crossed.

"I will accept the decree… if you two duel."

A chuckle escaped him.

Hesbeirn stared at the wooden sword in his hand.

Then—he let out a long sigh.

"…Haaa, my lord…"

Gilmon rubbed his forehead.

"You really haven't changed, have you, Garius?"

Garius simply smirked.

Because in the end—this was never just about a duel.

It was a test. A message. A game only the strongest could play.

Garius' grin widened as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Now—how about we all head to the courtyard?"

He turned his gaze toward both Hesbeirn and Gilmon, his smirk deepening.

"C'mon! The two of you—best friends, best duel partners…

And always trying to one-up each other before."

His eyes sharpened.

"Entertain me."

Hesbeirn let out a short chuckle, spinning the wooden sword in his hand.

"Well, if that's what you wish, my lord…"

He smirked, stepping forward.

"…I will gladly oblige."

On the other side—Gilmon exhaled a long sigh, shaking his head.

"…You never change, Garius."

Then—a small smile crept onto his lips.

"Fine. But don't blame me if your general gets hurt."

Garius stood up, his presence commanding.

His grin turned sharper, his tone playful—yet absolute.

"No magic."

The room fell into silence.

Hesbeirn and Gilmon exchanged glances.

They both knew what that meant.

A true fight. No blessings. No enhancements. No tricks.

Only raw skill, strength, and experience.

Garius grinned as he gestured toward the exit.

"Let's see who's been slacking over the years."

( End of Chapter )