Reborn As Noble

Chapter 1631: A Smirk Across the Breakfast Table ( 1631 )

Meanwhile.

At the private villa dining room.

Garius sat at the head of the table, his knife cutting slowly through the steak on his plate. The meat was tender, seared to a perfect golden brown, the juices glistening along the cut edges, a rich, dark sauce pooled around it. He lifted a piece to his lips and chewed thoughtfully, his expression calm and composed despite the morning.

Lioness sat to his right, slumped heavily in his chair, one hand pressed to his forehead, groaning. His eyes were half-closed, his face pale and drawn.

"Ugh... my head... it feels like a hammer is pounding against the inside of my skull..."

Veldrac sat across from him on the left, cutting into his own meal with slow, elegant precision. He took a sip of his drink and set it down.

"You should have controlled your drinking last night, Lioness. You were the one pouring bottle after bottle down your throat while boasting about how you could drink the entire cellar dry."

Lioness narrowed his eyes toward Veldrac.

"Lower your voice... Veldrac..." He pressed his palm harder against his temple and let out a pained groan. "Every word you say is like a knife stabbing straight into my head..."

Veldrac smiled and shook his head.

"I didn’t even raise my voice. You were the one shouting loud enough to wake the dead last night."

The door at the back of the dining hall opened, and an Armand officer stepped in, standing at a distance where Alf could see him. The officer bowed politely, spoke something quietly to Hesbeirn, who stood with his arms crossed near the doorway. Hesbeirn glanced down at him with an uninterested expression, then gestured with his head, giving permission to enter.

The officer bowed again and walked toward Alf, placing his palm over his left chest and bowing before extending a folded paper toward him. Alf took it with a nod and gestured with his hand, dismissing him. The officer bowed and left.

Alf opened the folded paper, read it, closed it, and walked toward Garius’s side. He placed his palm over his left chest and bowed.

"Your Majesty."

Garius glanced up from his steak.

"Hmm? Yes, Alf?"

"The Armand officer has relayed a message from the command center. We have received contact from a man by the name of Vane."

Garius paused mid-cut, his knife stilling against the steak. He looked up.

"Ah..."

A smirk spread across his face.

"So their own messenger is already safely back, and they’ve made their way to him."

Alf’s expression mirrored the smirk, subtle and knowing.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Vane made his first contact with the Armand command center this morning."

Garius’s smirk widened. He returned his attention to his steak and resumed cutting, the blade sliding through the tender meat.

"Good~ Tell the command center to inform the man to wait for my contact. It will come later. Perhaps after this meal. Or perhaps after this vacation ends."

Alf inclined his head.

"As you wish, Your Majesty. Now, if you will excuse me."

He took a step back, turned smoothly on his heel, and returned to his position behind Garius’s chair, his hands clasping behind his back, his monocle catching the light as he resumed his watch over the room.

Lioness crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Garius, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You trust this guy? This Vane from the other continent? A man who was supposed to be our enemy? A summoned hero from the coalition? What makes you so sure he won’t turn around and stab us in the back the moment we give him something useful?"

Garius chuckled, glancing at Lioness.

"It wasn’t me who agreed to send those devices."

He cut another piece of steak and lifted it.

"The letter and the package for the Amazarak messenger, the ones meant to be delivered to their leader, Vane... were prepared personally by my youngest son. Javier."

Veldrac smiled faintly, setting his glass down.

"What was in the letter?"

Garius ate the meat, savoring the taste, before swallowing. He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. A smirk crossed his lips.

"A simple letter."

He set the glass down.

"A warning. Betrayal means death. No negotiation, no mercy. That if he turns on his own, he will share the fate of every traitor Armand has ever faced."

He paused.

"But more than that... a quiet bit of bragging. Pointing out that their coalition has no chance at all. Explaining exactly why. Their best weapons are single-shot rifles. One bullet, then a manual cycle before the next. Their dependence on old-style messengers and letters that delay every order. How their artillery is ancient compared to anything Armand can field."

Garius smiled.

"Javier made it very clear. Their coalition might have numbers. They might have summoned heroes. They might have their false goddesses. But they don’t have a chance."

Both Lioness and Veldrac glanced at Garius in silence for a moment.

Then Lioness threw his head back and let out a booming laugh.

"Bwahahaha! Oh man! Your youngest really has no mercy at all, does he? Not only does he look down on the entire enemy continent, he even warned this Vane fellow to his face! No dancing around it, no sweet words. Just ’betray us and you die, and by the way, you’ve already lost’!"

Veldrac shook his head with a soft chuckle, lifting his glass to his lips.

"He’s confident. Completely confident. It’s like Javier is already certain of winning this war against the other continent’s coalition. Not hoping. Not preparing. Certain. He wrote that letter as if the outcome were already decided and he was just informing them of the result."

Garius smiled.

"That’s because, for him, it is."

He set his knife down and leaned back in his chair.

"The preparations we’re making are not for this other continent. Not really. The coalition, their armies, their summoned heroes, their false goddesses... those are secondary concerns."

He paused.

"According to the documents my future daughter-in-law, Celine, brought from her father, the coalition’s best weapons, their total army count, which heroes lead which battalions, how they march, how they supply, how they communicate... all of it is fully accounted for. Every detail. Every weakness. Every delay in their command chain. We know exactly what they have and exactly how to break it."

He lifted his glass and took a slow sip.

"Every trap has already been set. Every countermeasure has already been prepared. Every soldier on the other continent is already standing exactly where we want them to stand. The coalition isn’t preparing for a war they can win. They’re marching into a corridor we’ve already built for them."

He murmured softly, his voice dropping low.

"No... our real preparation is not for the coalition at all. It’s for what comes after. For the ones who wait in the shadows."

( End Of Chapter )