I Got Reborn Into A Baron's Household

Arnold moved swiftly, the shadows his ally as he disappeared to carry out my orders. I remained seated, my mind racing with possibilities. The Celestial Vault was an enigma, an artifact whose true limits I had yet to uncover. If it truly could store living beings, it might give me an edge no one else possessed. But I needed proof—a subject to test the theory.

Thaddeus.

Hours later, Arnold returned, dragging a bound and gagged Thaddeus into the abandoned warehouse where we had agreed to meet. The dimly lit space was cold, its silence broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling. Thaddeus squirmed in Arnold's iron grip, his muffled protests ignored.

"He's all yours, my lord," Arnold said, tossing Thaddeus onto the floor with practiced ease.

Thaddeus landed with a grunt, his eyes wild with fear as they darted between Arnold and me. I stepped closer, my boots echoing ominously against the wooden floor.

"Thaddeus," I began, my voice calm yet sharp enough to cut through the tension. "I know what you tried to do. Leading us into a trap? Clever. Unfortunately, you underestimated your own value to me."

I crouched before him, my golden eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You see, I'm not just interested in your betrayal. I'm interested in what you can help me accomplish."

Thaddeus shook his head frantically, muffled words spilling from behind the gag.

"Remove it," I ordered.

Arnold obeyed, pulling the cloth from Thaddeus's mouth. The man gasped for air, then spat out, "You're insane! You won't get away with this!"

I tilted my head, a wicked grin spreading across my face. "Insane? Perhaps. But I prefer visionary? Definitely."

I stood and removed the Celestial Vault ring from my finger, holding it up so its intricate runes glinted in the dim light. "This artifact can store anything—gold, weapons, treasures beyond imagination. But I've always wondered... could it store something living?"

Thaddeus froze, his confusion turning to panic. "What? No, you can't—"

"I can," I interrupted, my tone shifting to that of a scientist explaining an experiment. "But the process requires consent. Fascinating, isn't it? The ring refuses to take unwilling subjects. So, I'll give you a choice."

I leaned in, my grin taking on a darker edge. "Either you agree to cooperate, or Arnold here ensures you no longer have the capacity to refuse."

Thaddeus trembled, his resolve cracking. "You're mad... completely mad."

"Perhaps," I said, my tone light and almost playful. "But you'll find that madness often leads to discovery."

Defeated, Thaddeus muttered, "Fine. I'll do it."

"Good," I said, sliding the ring back onto my finger. I activated the Celestial Vault, focusing its power on Thaddeus.

At first, nothing happened. Then, with a sudden pull of invisible force, Thaddeus was yanked into the infinite space of the Vault, his body vanishing before our eyes.

Galen, who had been silently observing from the corner, let out a low whistle. "Well, that's unsettling."

I ignored him, my attention fixed on the ring. After a few moments, I activated the Vault again, pulling Thaddeus back into the room. He reappeared exactly as he had been, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.

Thaddeus blinked rapidly, his expression dazed.

"How was it?" I asked, crouching down to meet his gaze.

"How was what?" Thaddeus rasped, his voice shaking.

"Inside the Vault," I clarified, my excitement barely contained. "What did you experience? What did you see?"

Thaddeus stared at me, his confusion evident. "I... I don't know what you're talking about. I was just here, and then... I was back."

I straightened, my mind racing. "No perception of time, then. Fascinating."

I turned to Galen, who was leaning against a support beam, smirking. "Looks like your mad theory wasn't so far off," he quipped.

Ignoring him, I activated the Vault again, sending Thaddeus back inside. This time, I waited twenty minutes before retrieving him.

When he reappeared, his expression was the same—confused, as if nothing had happened.

"How long were you inside?" I asked.

Thaddeus frowned. "Inside what? I was here the whole time."

A thrill ran through me. Time didn't pass inside the Vault. It was a stasis, a timeless void. The possibilities were endless.

I turned to Arnold, my grin returning. "This changes everything."

Arnold's expression remained stoic, though a flicker of unease crossed his features. "What now, my lord?"

"We need to question him," I said, slipping the ring off my finger and inspecting it closely.

Thaddeus groaned from the floor, his voice weak. "You're a monster..."

I glanced at him, my expression unbothered. "Well, its not the first time someone had told me that. Now tell me about the noble you met. And the three girls locked in the northern tower. Why is Aumale using them as leverage?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He looked like a man caught between a boulder and a cliff. "I—I can't," he whispered finally, his voice trembling. "If I talk, that noble... he'll kill me."

I sighed, letting my patience thin. The air around me grew heavy, oppressive, as I allowed my aether to flow freely, lacing it with intent. Thaddeus's face twisted in panic as he dropped to the floor, clawing at his throat as if the very air had turned against him.

"You don't seem to understand," I said coldly, my tone sharp enough to cut. "I don't care about your fear of him. Right now, you should fear me far more. Now, talk."

He gasped, his body trembling under the weight of my aura. "P-please," he choked. "You don't understand! That noble... he's powerful! If he finds out—"

I stepped closer, towering over him. "Do you think his power matters to me?" My voice dropped, each word sharp and deliberate. "I can crush you here and now, and there won't be enough left of you for him to care about. Speak."

Tears mixed with sweat on his face as he broke. "I don't know much! I swear!" he cried, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "He told me to lead you into the trap and report back. I didn't ask questions—I couldn't! He'd kill me if I did!"

"And the girls?" I pressed, my tone icy. "Why does Aumale want them alive?"

"I don't know!" His voice cracked, raw with desperation. "I only overheard bits and pieces. Something about leverage... someone important. That's all I know! Please, I swear, I'm telling the truth!"

I studied Thaddeus, his form trembling before me like a leaf caught in a storm. His excuses were meaningless, his fear palpable. This man had no value, no purpose beyond being a disposable piece in someone else's cruel game.

A pang of hesitation flickered within me. Back on Earth, in the world I once knew, ordering someone's death would have been unthinkable. Life had rules, laws, and consequences. But this wasn't Earth. This was a place where power dictated morality and survival demanded cold, calculated decisions.

I exhaled slowly, steeling myself. Hesitation would only weaken my position.

"Arnold," I said, my voice sharp but steady.

Arnold stepped forward, his figure a shadowy silhouette in the dim light. "Yes, my lord?"

I met his gaze, then shifted my eyes back to Thaddeus, whose terror-stricken face was pleading for mercy I couldn't give. "Kill him," I said. "He's no longer of use."

Thaddeus's eyes widened, his knees buckling as he fell to the ground. "No! Please! I—I can be useful! Just give me another chance!"

His voice grated on me, each word a reminder of his cowardice. I turned away, unable to look at the pathetic display any longer.

Arnold moved with quiet precision, drawing one of the Phantom's Embrace daggers. He had removed its hilt, leaving the shadowsteel blade bare—simpler, more utilitarian. Thaddeus's cries grew louder, desperate, but they were silenced in an instant as Arnold drove the blade into his chest.

The room fell silent, save for the faint rustle of Arnold cleaning the blade with methodical care.

I closed my eyes briefly, letting the weight of my decision settle. This wasn't the first time I'd taken a life—or ordered one to be taken—but it never got easier. Maybe that was for the best. Becoming numb would mean losing what little humanity I still clung to.

"Dispose of the body," I said finally, my voice devoid of emotion. "Leave no trace."

"Yes, my lord," Arnold replied, his tone calm, as though this were just another task in his daily routine.

I glanced at the faint glow of the Celestial Vault on my finger. It pulsed with power, a reminder of the stakes I was playing for. Count Aumale thought he could manipulate me with pawns and schemes, but this wasn't his world.

It was mine now. And in this world, I made the rules.

---

The morning sun cast its light over the city, a warm glow that contrasted with the icy resolve I felt within. Today was a new step in the plan. If Count Aumale wanted to play this game of power, I would ensure I had the means to counter every move.

Galen stood beside me as we walked through the bustling streets toward the mercenary guild. The city was alive with activity, merchants hawking their wares, and commoners going about their day. But my thoughts were elsewhere—on the forces I needed to build, on the battles yet to come.

"The guild here is well-known," Galen said, his tone measured. "Their mercenaries are reliable, though costly."

"I'm not concerned about the cost," I replied, my eyes scanning the streets ahead. "What matters is their loyalty—temporary as it may be—and their skill."

We reached the guild, a large stone building that exuded a rugged charm. The sound of clinking armor and raucous laughter spilled out from within, a testament to the kind of people who gathered here.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of sweat, smoke, and ale. Mercenaries of all shapes and sizes milled about—some sharpening their weapons, others engaged in loud conversations over tankards of beer. A few glanced our way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

I approached the counter where a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek sat. His sharp eyes appraised me and Galen.

"You don't look like the usual type," he said, his voice gravelly. "What can I do for you?"

"I need mercenaries," I said plainly. "One thousand men, ready to march within the week."

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "A thousand? That's a tall order. You planning to start a war or end one?"

"Neither," I said with a faint smirk. "But I won't be caught unprepared when one comes my way."

He leaned back, folding his arms. "We can supply the numbers, but it'll cost you a fortune. And you'll need to convince the men this is worth their time—and their lives."

I reached into my coat and pulled out a pouch, placing it on the counter. The man opened it, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the gold coins within.

"This is just the down payment," I said, my tone firm. "There's more where that came from, provided your men follow orders and fight when needed."

The man studied me for a moment, then nodded. "You've got yourself a deal. I'll gather the men and have them ready by the end of the week. But a word of advice—mercenaries aren't the most loyal. Keep them paid and fed, or they'll turn on you the first chance they get."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, my voice cold.

Galen and I turned to leave, but I paused at the door, glancing back at the room of hardened warriors. These men weren't bound by honor or allegiance, only by the promise of gold. They were tools to be used, nothing more.

As we stepped back into the sunlight, Galen spoke. "Do you trust them?"

"No," I said simply. "But trust isn't necessary. Fear and gold will keep them in line."

We walked on, the weight of the next steps in my plan pressing on my shoulders. With these mercenaries, I would have the strength I needed to tip the scales.

Count Aumale thought he could outmaneuver me, but he didn't know who he was dealing with.

A week had passed since I commissioned the mercenary guild. During that time, Galen and I had worked nonstop to prepare for the battles ahead. Supplies were secured, and nearly a thousand mercenaries now gathered on the training grounds outside the city.

The sight before me was... chaotic, to put it mildly. The men were a ragtag mix of seasoned warriors, reckless adventurers, and opportunistic cutthroats. Their mismatched armor and rowdy behavior screamed one thing: they didn't respect me, and they didn't intend to.

"They look... spirited," I said dryly, watching as a group of them argued loudly over a game of dice.

"Spirited isn't the word I'd use," Galen replied, his tone clipped. "This lot won't listen to orders unless you prove yourself."

I sighed. "Of course they won't."

As we approached, the crowd gradually turned their attention to us. I could feel their eyes sizing me up, their expressions ranging from amusement to outright disdain.

"So," a booming voice called out. "This is the kid who's paying for all of us?"

The speaker was a hulking man with a scar running down his nose and a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. A massive battle axe rested on his shoulder as he stepped forward, clearly relishing the attention.

"You got a lot of nerve, boy," he continued, smirking. "What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? You really think you can command us?"

The men laughed, and I could feel Galen tense beside me. I held up a hand to stop him from intervening.

"You have a problem with my age?" I asked, keeping my tone even.

"Yeah," he said, his grin widening. "I do. Why should any of us take orders from some rich kid who probably hasn't even killed a man yet?"

More laughter rippled through the crowd, and I let it go on for a moment before speaking again.

"Good question," I said, stepping forward. "Why don't we settle it? You and me."

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, forming a circle around us. The scarred mercenary's grin faltered for a moment before he nodded, setting his axe aside.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "But this won't end well for you."

"No weapons," I said, handing my sword belt to Galen. "Just fists."

The man cracked his knuckles and squared up, clearly confident. "Hope you're ready to beg for mercy."

I didn't respond, instead stepping into the circle. The crowd fell silent as the fight began.

The mercenary came at me with a wide swing, aiming to overwhelm me with brute strength. I sidestepped easily, letting him stumble past me before landing a quick jab to his ribs.

"Was that it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He growled and came at me again, his attacks wild and predictable. I ducked under a punch and drove my knee into his stomach, sending him staggering back.

"You're strong," I said, watching him recover. "But you fight like someone who's used to winning without trying. That's your first mistake."

He roared and charged again, but I was ready. I caught his arm, twisted it sharply, and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a loud thud, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

Before he could get up, I placed my foot on his chest and leaned in close, letting my aether flare. The suffocating aura I released silenced the crowd entirely.

"You follow me because I pay you," I said, my voice cold. "You respect me because I'm stronger than you. And if you ever question me again, you won't get back up."

The man stared up at me, his bravado gone. "Understood," he muttered weakly.

I stepped back, dusting off my hands as the crowd broke into a mix of cheers and laughter.

"Well, that was embarrassing," I said, glancing down at the defeated mercenary. "Do you want me to help you up, or should I find you a stretcher?"

The crowd roared with laughter, and the man groaned, shaking his head.

As I turned to address the group, I couldn't resist adding, "Anyone else want to test their luck, or can we move on to more important matters?"

The mercenaries shook their heads, some still laughing, others nodding in grudging respect.

Galen stepped beside me, his lips twitching in what might have been a suppressed smile. "You've got a way with theatrics."

"Thickheaded men require a thick approach," I replied, adjusting my coat. "Now let's get to work. We've wasted enough time as it is."

The road ahead was still long, but for now, I had their attention—and their respect.