Reborn As Noble - Chapter 343

Chapter 343: Plans of Deceit ( 343 )
Zephyra’s eyes blazed with fury as she turned toward her warrior generals. Her voice was cold, commanding, and absolute.

“Prepare our troops. We march toward Armand.”

The warriors pounded their fists against their chests, bowing deeply in affirmation.

Zephyra’s tone darkened.

“If the human king tries to cover for them—then a full-scale war it is.”

The tension in the room thickened. Amazarak warriors were born for battle, and now they had a cause. The air crackled with bloodlust.

But then—

A new voice spoke, calm and measured. It belonged to a human who had remained silent until now. This man and his faction had no ties to the so-called ‘hero.’

“Your Majesty… I understand your anger. However, there is a problem.”

Zephyra’s gaze snapped toward him, sharp and expectant.

The man continued, his words slow and deliberate.

“Garius is also on good terms with the Beastkin Kingdom and the Elven Kingdom.”

A heavy silence fell upon the throne room. Zania’s eyes narrowed, and the generals exchanged anxious glances. For the first time, Zephyra paused.

(The Beastkin Kingdom… The Elves…?)

Her hands tightened into fists.

Her advisor stepped forward, her expression grave.

“Your Majesty.”

He paused, his voice dropping to a grim tone.

“If what they say is true, I do not believe the Elven Kingdom or the Beastkin Kingdom will allow our troops to pass through their lands.”

Zephyra’s fingernails dug into her palm. She felt the weight of reality pressing down on her. If she forced her troops through anyway—

It wouldn’t just be a war against Armand; it would mean fighting the Elves and the Beastkin as well. And despite Amazarak’s strength, a three-front war would be suicide.

Her rage simmered as her plans faltered. For the first time since this conversation began, Zephyra felt trapped.

Zania, still kneeling, clenched her fists. The hero’s words burned in her heart, igniting anger at the thought of Armand’s supposed cruelty.

She lifted her head and spoke with resolve.

“Your Majesty, I have a suggestion.”

Zephyra’s crimson gaze fixed on her, fierce and curious.

Zania’s tone was calm but unwavering.

“Instead of marching our army outright, we should send several warrior groups to infiltrate Armand’s territory and hunt them down.”

She bowed her head deeper, emphasizing her sincerity.

“This way, they won’t notice us, and our kingdom won’t be accused of waging war.”

The throne room fell into silence, the Amazarak generals murmuring among themselves as they considered her proposal.

Zephyra leaned back in her throne, deep in thought.

“Hmm… but if we send too small a group, they won’t stand a chance.”

Zania lifted her head slightly, encouraged.

“Then we should send multiple groups—spread them out across the region.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the Amazarak warriors. It was a sound plan.

But then—

One of the advisors spoke, his tone grave. “Your Majesty, even if we send them separately, other kingdoms will still take notice.”

Zephyra’s expression darkened, her fury tempered by the weight of cold reality.

The advisor continued, his voice steady.

“If our warriors are spotted moving in large numbers—even if they are separated—the Beastkin Kingdom and the Elven Kingdom will see it as a threat.”

A heavy silence descended upon the room. That much was undeniable; Amazarak warriors in significant numbers would never go unnoticed, even when stealth was intended.

The advisor sighed and added,

“And we must remember… the Beastkin Kingdom is in the way.”

Zania’s eyes widened slightly at the implication.

The advisor turned to Zephyra, his expression serious.

“The Beastkin Kingdom does not allow any Amazarak warriors, citizens, or even merchants to cross their borders.”

Zania clenched her hands into fists, feeling the weight of their predicament.

Zephyra’s eyes darkened further. Now, not only was war against Armand out of reach—sending warriors discreetly was nearly impossible.

The kneeling human smirked, his voice calm and confident.

“How about we help you?”

Zephyra’s crimson eyes glinted, though her expression remained composed and regal. She tilted her head slightly, her voice laced with curiosity and authority.

“Oh? And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

The man’s smirk deepened, revealing his confidence.

“We can disguise your warriors as hired laborers.”

A murmur spread through the warriors and advisors, a mix of skepticism and intrigue.

Zephyra raised an eyebrow.

“Hired workers, you say?”

Leaning forward slightly, she rested her elbow on the throne’s armrest, her fingers tapping lightly against the surface.

“And how do you intend to make that work?”

The human’s smirk remained unwavering, his tone smooth and persuasive.

“Our lord—Duke Ibzles, along with other high-ranking nobles—will assist you.”

Zania’s eyes widened in surprise, while Zephyra’s gaze sharpened, alert and thoughtful. She remained silent, keenly listening.

The man continued, his tone steady and compelling.

“We will arrange for carriages to transport your warriors, along with the necessary documents to make them appear as simple laborers.”

He smiled, sensing he had captured their attention.

“Once they arrive at our lord’s domain, they only need to work for a day or two—just enough to maintain the disguise.”

A pause followed, the room charged with anticipation.

Then—his smirk widened.

“After that, they can proceed with their mission… unnoticed.”

Zephyra fell silent for a moment, her fingers ceasing their tapping. A slow, predatory smile curled onto her lips.

“Hmm… interesting.”

Her crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she turned to her younger sister.

“Zania.”

Zania immediately straightened, her fist pressed over her chest.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

Zephyra’s tone was calm but absolute.

“You will lead this mission. Ensure everything goes smoothly.”

Determination flared in Zania’s eyes as she bowed deeply.

“I will not fail.”

Kenjirou, still kneeling, lifted his head slightly, a feigned look of sincerity crossing his face.

“Let me assist as well.”

Zephyra’s gaze shifted to him, a moment of silence hanging in the air. Then, her smile widened. She had no intention of letting this handsome man slip away just yet; she had other plans for him.

Her voice turned silky, smooth, and enticing.

“No, Kenjirou.”

She stepped down from her throne, moving closer to him.

“You will stay here.”

Kenjirou paused, surprise flickering across his features.

Zephyra’s smile deepened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “You will train. Grow stronger. Become the best warrior Amazarak has ever seen.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a soft, honeyed whisper.

“And when the time comes… don’t worry.”

Her crimson eyes locked onto his, her voice carrying a promise… and something darker.

“…You will have your revenge.”

Kenjirou’s breath hitched.

“…I understand, Your Majesty.”

Then—

A gentle touch lifted his chin. His breath caught as he found himself staring into Zephyra’s gaze. Her fingers rested lightly under his jaw, her touch seductively discreet. Her lips curled into a sly, knowing smile.

“Don’t worry, handsome~.”

Kenjirou swallowed hard as Zephyra’s nails traced lightly along his chin before pulling away.

“Train hard. Become the best among the best.”

Stepping back, she lifted a single elegant hand, her nails shimmering.

Then—her voice dropped to a low whisper.

“…And when your body is ready—”

She smiled, a slow, dangerous smile.

“You will regain what you lost.”

Kenjirou’s heart raced. His eyes widened.

“Y-Your Majesty?”

His voice trembled slightly, uncertain if it was from excitement or something else entirely.

“Are you saying… I can regrow my missing limb?”

Zephyra chuckled softly as she stepped past him.

“Oh~ for me, that’s easy.”

She turned her head just enough for him to catch the gleam of amusement in her glowing eyes.

“But… you must grow stronger first.”

Her voice held both an order and a tantalizing promise.

“Train. Push your limits. My warriors will assist you in your training.”

Kenjirou’s fists clenched, his body trembling with anticipation.

A chance. A chance to reclaim what he had lost. A chance to become even stronger. A chance to have everything… and more.

His breath was uneven, but his voice was steady.

“…I will do it.”

Zephyra’s smile widened, for now—

Kenjirou belonged to her.

( End of Chapter )