Reborn As Noble

Edmund stepped away from the throne for a moment and moved toward the tall, arched window on the side of the royal court. He looked out over the capital—his kingdom—bathed in the golden light of late afternoon.

"Can't wait to claim all this land," he whispered to himself. "And then... the rest."

Behind him, the nobles continued their debates, while the advisor remained silently watchful. But Edmund's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Toward Armand.

Toward the man he once called friend.

"Garius…" he muttered, narrowing his eyes slightly.

He knew.

Garius would not be easy to destroy. He wasn't like the other nobles—greedy, shortsighted, and predictable.

No.

They had once fought side by side, laughed together, and bled together in wars long past.

And despite the paths they had taken since, Edmund never forgot one thing.

The only thing he ever truly hated Garius for...

Was Francesca.

The woman he had once loved. The one he had imagined beside him—Queen of the Kingdom.

But she hadn't chosen him.

She chose Garius.

That choice had changed everything.

Standing before the tall stained-glass window, King Edmund clasped his hands behind his back.

The city stretched far below him—his capital, his crown.

But even as he stood at the center of power, his mind wandered far beyond reach.

To her.

Francesca.

Even now… after all these years.

Even after she had married Garius and borne him three sons… even though her place was firmly beside that man—

Edmund still wanted her.

She was supposed to be his.

In his youth, he had imagined it. Dreamed of it.

An elegant queen standing at his side, ruling with him.

But she had chosen someone else.

And what stung most wasn't just that she loved another—

But that she had only grown more beautiful with time.

Francesca, with her serene smile and calm, commanding grace. Her youthful radiance hadn't faded; it had grown stronger. As if time itself had chosen to leave her untouched.

Even now, she looked like the first day he laid eyes on her.

Perfect.

Young.

Beautiful.

But Edmund wasn't a fool.

He knew Garius.

Strong. Cautious. Always prepared. Always one step ahead.

Killing him outright… storming Armand... taking Francesca by force with his army or his throne—

That wouldn't break Garius.

It wouldn't bring her to him.

No…

He needed something more.

Something deeper.

He didn't just want to defeat Garius.

He wanted to ruin him.

Destroy his legacy.

Crush everything he had built and everyone he protected until there was nothing left.

He had once stood beside Garius.

Not as a king. Not as a rival.

But as an ally.

A young man filled with fire and ambition, chasing glory alongside one of the most brilliant tacticians and magic users the kingdom had ever seen.

Back then, they had fought together in one of the kingdom's darkest campaigns—

The hunt for the Celestials.

Edmund remembered it vividly:

The raw terror of facing a Celestial entity—one that hadn't yet chosen a vessel, but even unbound, its power warped the sky and scorched the land.

Yet, Garius had stood at the front.

Calm.

Unshaken.

He read the battlefield, adapted, and coordinated the sealing ritual flawlessly—subduing the creature with a level of strategic command that Edmund had never seen before or since.

Even without a vessel, that Celestial had been monstrous.

And Garius had sealed it without casualties.

That was the day Edmund realized—

He could never defeat Garius through sheer force.

Not then.

Not now.

Which was why he needed more Celestial power.

More than Garius could predict.

More than the world could contain.

"I must not just match him…" Edmund whispered inwardly, narrowing his eyes.

"I must surpass him."

And when the time came—

When the final blow was ready—

He wouldn't just kill Garius.

He would erase him.

The nobles continued to argue, trying to make sense of the coming chaos.

But Edmund no longer heard them.

His mind was elsewhere.

On her.

Francesca.

Still flawless.

Still the only thing that had ever slipped through his fingers.

He had tried everything back then—words, status, wealth, even quiet loyalty.

But she chose Garius.

Always Garius.

And even now, years later, with three sons and a noble house of her own, she still stood beside him.

Edmund's lips twitched, his expression unreadable.

"If she will not come to me willingly…" he thought coldly, "then I will simply take her."

Not yet.

Not now.

But once he stood above all...

Once every Celestial was his and the kingdoms bent the knee—

Then there would be no one left to stop him.

Not Garius. Not anyone.

And Francesca?

She would have no choice.

Because the strongest man in the world does not ask.

He claims.

"Your Majesty?"

The voice gently broke the silence.

One of the nobles noticed King Edmund standing motionless, lost in thought, his expression unreadable as he gazed out the window.

"Hmm?" Edmund blinked, slowly turning his head, his calm mask slipping seamlessly back into place. "What is it?"

The noble bowed slightly. "N-nothing, Your Majesty. We were simply… awaiting your command."

Some nobles exchanged glances.

They didn't say it out loud, but many still harbored quiet resentment from the Holy War.

Back when the Saint of the Three Gods rose with noble support...

And when Armand stood alone against them.

Where was Edmund then?

A king who did nothing. Who watched from the sidelines while Garius crushed the holy coalition with terrifying precision.

Some had wanted to blame him for inaction, for letting Armand grow too powerful. But none dared speak it aloud.

Not yet.

Still, Edmund knew what they were thinking.

He always had.

But the truth was far more calculated than they could imagine.

He didn't help in the Holy War... not because he was weak.

But because he couldn't risk crushing Armand too early.

If Garius had died back then, while the ancient Celestial Seal was still stable—

The seal might have never weakened.

And he knew Garius.

Knew the man always planned far ahead.

If Garius had sensed his death was near, he would've activated a fail-safe.

Some spell. Some curse. Something embedded in the magic of the seal itself.

Something that would ensure that no one—not even a king—could ever claim the Celestials once the seal broke.

"If I had killed him too soon…" Edmund thought, eyes narrowing, "he would've locked the power away forever."

And that—

That would have made all of this meaningless.

So he waited.

He let Armand win.

He let Garius live.

Until now.

Because the seal had begun to weaken.

King Edmund stood in still silence.

But inside…

He could feel it.

The power.

The two Celestials now sealed within him—pulsing like a second heart beneath his skin.

The first, claimed in secret—the one sealed beneath the Noble Academy.

No one knew what he did there.

No one ever saw what was locked beneath the school's foundation, forgotten by history and time.

The second, taken from Duke Ibzles—absorbed in a violent ritual that no one survived to speak of.

Now, both Celestials surged within him.

The divine pressure that once would've crushed him now bent to his will.

His strength—his mana, his senses, his body—had evolved beyond mortal limits.

He clenched his hand once and felt the mana swirl in response. It trembled at his command.

He was stronger than ever before.

And yet...

His smile faded.

Because he knew.

Garius wasn't weak.

Even with two Celestials, even as king, Edmund did not underestimate him.

Garius was the man who fought and sealed a Celestial without ever needing one himself.

The man who foresaw entire wars before they happened.

Who turned a defensive border region into a fortress strong enough to stand alone against kingdoms.

And now… the Celestials were awakening.

Vessels were surfacing.

War was creeping closer.

Edmund narrowed his eyes.

He knew the truth.

When Celestials fully awakened inside their vessels… their true power begins to bloom.

And Garius?

He wasn't a vessel.

But he was the kind of man who, even without one, could still find a way to win.

And that's what made him dangerous.

If Edmund faced him too early—if he fought Garius head-on without total advantage—he wouldn't come out unscathed.

He might even fall.

"Not yet," Edmund whispered under his breath, his voice tight.

"Not until I have all of them."

( End of Chapter )