I Got Reborn Into A Baron's Household

In a dimly lit room that carry a scent of old wood and faint incense, its oppressive quiet broken only by the faint creak of the door as Thaddeus slipped inside. His footsteps faltered momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the shadowed interior. At the far end of the room, seated at an ornate table adorned with gilded edges, was a figure clad in the deep burgundy and gold of high-ranking nobility.

The man's face was obscured beneath the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat, but the glint of a signet ring on his hand spoke volumes about his station. His fingers rested lightly on a crystal goblet filled with wine, the crimson liquid reflecting the faint candlelight.

Thaddeus swallowed hard, nerves gnawing at the edges of his usual bravado.

"I've done what you asked," he began, his voice low but steady. "The Eisenhart boy and his companions took the bait. They believed every word."

The nobleman's head tilted slightly, as if appraising Thaddeus through the darkness. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, smooth, and dripping with condescension.

"And? Did they suspect anything?"

"No," Thaddeus replied quickly, eager to dispel any doubts. "I played my part perfectly. Gave them just enough to believe me without overplaying my hand. They're planning to act on the information as we speak."

The nobleman leaned back in his chair, the creak of aged wood breaking the silence. He tapped a finger against the goblet, the sound echoing faintly in the room. "Good. Very good."

Thaddeus hesitated, then took a step forward. "Now, about our arrangement... I've done my part. I expect to be compensated."

The nobleman chuckled, a sound that sent an involuntary shiver down Thaddeus's spine. "Ah, Thaddeus. Always so eager for your reward." He gestured lazily toward a small chest on the table.

Thaddeus's eyes flicked to the chest, greed sparking in his gaze. He approached cautiously, his hands moving to lift the lid. Inside, glinting softly in the dim light, were several coins of gold and a small pouch that jingled when he touched it.

"This should cover your... contributions," the nobleman said smoothly, his tone dripping with calculated indifference.

Thaddeus grinned, the tension in his posture easing. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, slipping the pouch into his coat.

Before he could turn to leave, the nobleman's voice cut through the air like a blade. "One last thing, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus froze, his heart skipping a beat. "Yes?"

"Remember who you're dealing with," the nobleman said, his voice colder now, the previous veneer of civility gone. "Should anything go awry—should our little plan falter—I trust you'll know the price of failure."

Thaddeus nodded hastily, his mouth dry. "Of course, my lord. You won't be disappointed."

The nobleman waved a dismissive hand, his attention already shifting back to the goblet of wine. Taking the hint, Thaddeus hurried out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the nobleman swirled the wine in his glass, watching the dark liquid with a predatory smile. "Now," he murmured to himself, "let's see how far the young Eisenhart is willing to go."

---

The room was quiet, save for the faint flicker of the oil lamp on the nightstand. I sat cross-legged on the bed, my thoughts spiraling back to the wealth my father had left behind. The sheer volume was staggering—millions in gold, too much to count in a single sitting. And then there were the treasures I had unearthed from the ancient ruins. With these resources, I could fund an entire campaign against Count Aumale.

But gold alone didn't win wars. Strategy did. Back on Earth, I'd devour enough novels and watched enough documentaries to know that brute force was rarely the answer. My one true battle, however, had been a reckless gamble—a desperate charge into an army of thousands with only Galen at my side. If it weren't for my newly enchanted Aetherblade sword and its unrivaled power, I wouldn't be alive to reflect on my foolishness.

The memory seared into my mind. Galen had been wild, grinning like a madman as he cleaved through enemy soldiers. I had relied on my magic-infused blade and the Aetherium Band to carve a path through the chaos. Victory was mine, but the scars it left—both physical and mental—served as a constant reminder of the price of rash decisions.

A faint shift in the shadows pulled me from my thoughts. My hand instinctively moved to reach the Aetherblade sword resting beside me, but the tension eased when I saw the figure step into the light. Arnold.

"My lord," he said with a respectful nod, his voice low and steady. "I have returned."

"Good," I replied, motioning for him to come closer. "What did you find?"

Arnold stood at attention, his posture straight and deferential. "Thaddeus met with someone tonight," he began. "A high-ranking noble, judging by his attire and demeanor. They spoke in private, but I was able to observe them unnoticed. Thaddeus reported his success to this noble, claiming he'd delivered the information as instructed."

"And the noble?" I asked, my tone calm but focused.

"He was cautious, my lord. He didn't reveal much. After their meeting, he left the mansion without delay. I couldn't get a clear look at his face from above, as he wore a hat, but it's clear he's entangled in something much larger. He paid Thaddeus handsomely and departed with guards who moved with the precision of seasoned professionals."

I nodded, absorbing the information. "They're setting a trap, then. Using Thaddeus to lead us into their hands."

"Undoubtedly," Arnold confirmed. "Thaddeus is a pawn, but a well-placed one. He's being used to feed us exactly what they want us to know."

I leaned back against the bedframe, my mind turning over the possibilities. "Let him think we've taken the bait," I said after a moment. "For now, he may still serve a purpose. But keep a close eye on him, Arnold."

Arnold inclined his head respectfully. "As you command, my lord. I'll ensure he doesn't stray from your watchful eye."

As he turned to leave, I stopped him. "Wait," I said, focusing as I retrieved a carefully wrapped bundle from within the Celestial Vault, materializing it in the air before me.

Arnold froze, his gaze curious but patient.

I unwrapped the cloth to reveal the twin daggers I had taken from the ancient ruins. Their shadowsteel blades shimmered with an otherworldly light, the ghostly patterns on their surface shifting like living smoke.

"These," I said, holding them out to him, "are the Phantom's Embrace. They're enchanted with Wraithwalk, allowing the wielder to become intangible for a brief period. You can phase through walls, evade attacks, or strike where the enemy least expects."

Arnold's eyes widened slightly, but his expression quickly returned to one of composed respect. He accepted the daggers reverently, his fingers brushing the silk-wrapped hilts. "My lord, these are extraordinary," he said, his voice betraying a hint of awe.

"They're yours now," I told him firmly. "You've served my family loyally, and these will make you even more effective in your duties. Use them wisely."

Arnold bowed deeply, the daggers held against his chest. "You honor me, my lord. I will not fail you."

"I know you won't," I said, allowing a small smile. "Continue gathering information. I want every detail about the location where my sisters are possibly being held. Don't rely solely on Thaddeus's account. Find out the truth for yourself."

"As you command, my lord," Arnold replied, his tone respectful and resolute. "I will leave no stone unturned."

"And one more thing," I added, leaning forward slightly. "I need an exact count of the troops stationed there. Thaddeus may have given us numbers, but I don't trust them. If I'm right, he is leading us to an army far larger than what he shared with us."

Arnold nodded, his grip tightening on the daggers. "Understood. I will gather precise intelligence and return as swiftly as possible."

"Good," I said, my gaze steady. "We're walking into the lion's den, and I won't tolerate any surprises. Be careful, Arnold. We can't afford to lose you."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'll return, my lord. Count on it."

With that, Arnold turned and melted into the shadows, the enchanted daggers practically invisible in his hands. I exhaled slowly, my mind already turning to the possibilities.

If Thaddeus had lied—or even omitted the full truth—then the situation could be far worse than I anticipated. But I couldn't let doubt paralyze me. Strategy and precision were my only weapons now.

The night stretched on as I planned and prepared, knowing that when Arnold returned, I would have the information I needed to confront Count Aumale's forces. The thought of my sisters in captivity hardened my resolve. No matter the cost, I would bring them back—and destroy anyone who stood in my way.

---

Ebonstone Stronghold

Arnold crept through the dense forest surrounding the enemy stronghold, his every movement precise and silent. The twin daggers, Phantom's Embrace, rested in his hands, their dark, ethereal glow blending seamlessly with the shadows. The stronghold loomed ahead, fortified with palisades and watchtowers illuminated by flickering torchlight.

He crouched low, observing the guards patrolling the perimeter. It was a tightly run operation; their routes overlapped, leaving minimal gaps for infiltration. But Arnold wasn't an ordinary infiltrator. With a slow exhale, he activated the daggers' Wraithwalk enchantment.

The sensation was disorienting but familiar now—his body shimmered, turned translucent, and then intangible. Shadows wrapped around him like a second skin, and he moved forward, phasing through the wooden palisades with ease.

Inside the stronghold, the camp bustled with activity. Soldiers sharpened their weapons, officers barked orders, and the distant sound of blacksmiths hammering steel filled the air. Arnold counted the troops as he moved, his sharp mind calculating their strength. It was clear now: Thaddeus had grossly underestimated their numbers.

"This isn't a mere slave encampment," Arnold thought. "This is an invasion force."

He slipped between tents, eavesdropping on conversations as he passed:

"The count's reinforcements are arriving within days. Velrois doesn't stand a chance."

"And the prisoners?"

"They're still alive, for now. The three girls are in the tower, but it's heavily warded. Nobody gets in or out without the commander's seal."

Arnold's heart quickened. He needed to confirm if these girls were his lord's sisters. Moving carefully, he approached the northern tower the guards had mentioned. It loomed above the rest of the camp, its stone walls radiating an ominous energy.

As he phased through the outer wall, he felt it—a resistance, like wading through thick mud. The barrier around the tower was powerful, designed to block both physical and magical intrusions. Arnold gritted his teeth, forcing his way through, but when he reached the other side, his connection to the daggers' enchantment flickered.

He deactivated the ability, his breath shallow from the effort. The tower's interior was cold and oppressive, with narrow hallways lit by dim, sputtering torches. He moved cautiously, his ears straining for any sound.

Reaching the cell block, he peered through the bars of the last cell. Three young girls sat huddled together, their faces obscured by shadows. Their clothes were tattered, but their posture hinted at resilience.

"Stay strong," one of them whispered. "We'll find a way out."

Arnold's chest tightened. Were these the Eisenhart sisters? The possibility tugged at him, but without closer inspection, he couldn't be sure. The barrier that had resisted his phasing had also blurred his senses, preventing him from confirming their identities.

A sudden noise—a guard's footsteps echoing down the hallway—forced Arnold to retreat. He melted back into the shadows, his daggers whispering against the air as he reactivated Wraithwalk. This time, the barrier resisted even more fiercely, but he pushed through, emerging on the other side of the tower's walls with a gasp.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "I can't be certain. I'll have to report what I've seen."

Arnold phased out of the stronghold and into the safety of the forest. Once he was far enough away, he deactivated the daggers' enchantment, his body solidifying as he crouched behind a thick tree. The information he'd gathered was critical, but it wasn't complete.

With a grim expression, he began the journey back to the rented room where his lord awaited. The moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated his path, but Arnold's thoughts were shadowed by uncertainty.

---

I sat at the wooden table in the dimly lit room we had rented, my fingers steepled as I stared off into space. My mind was racing, not with thoughts of wealth, but with strategies. What moves would give us the greatest advantage? Could my Celestial Vault be a factor in those plans?

The thought that intrigued me most was whether the Celestial Vault could store living beings. It was designed as a limitless space for objects, but I had never tried it on anything alive. What would happen if I forced someone into the Vault? Would they survive, or would the infinite void consume them?

Curiosity clawed at me, and an idea formed. "Galen," I called.

The man lounged against the wall, sharpening his blade. He looked up with an arched brow. "What is it now, my lord?"

I leaned forward, steepling my fingers. "I want to test something. Could you—"

"Not a chance," Galen interrupted, his voice flat. He didn't even let me finish. "You're about to ask me to go inside that creepy ring of yours, aren't you?"

I frowned. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Please," he snorted. "I know that look. And no, I'm not volunteering to become some kind of celestial experiment. What if I never come back? Or worse, what if I come back… different?"

"It's purely theoretical," I insisted.

"Exactly my point," he shot back, crossing his arms. "Find someone else to test your theories. I like being solid, thank you very much."

Before I could argue further, the faintest creak of a floorboard drew my attention. My senses sharpened, but I didn't bother to look. "Arnold," I said, my voice calm, "what did you learn?"

He stepped forward from the shadows, moving with his usual precision and grace. When he knelt before me, his voice was measured and respectful. "My lord, the situation is more complicated than anticipated. The enemy's numbers are far greater than Thaddeus claimed—there are five thousand, possibly more, stationed at the fortress."

I leaned back, my jaw tightening. "Any news of my sisters?"

"There are three girls held in the northern tower," Arnold said. "But their cell is protected by a powerful barrier. I couldn't confirm if they're your sisters. The guards mentioned that only a commander's seal can bypass the wards."

I frowned, tapping my fingers against the table. "A commander's seal…"

"There's more," Arnold continued. "Count Aumale's reinforcements will arrive soon. They intend to crush Velrois completely, and the prisoners are leverage. If their demands aren't met, the girls will be executed."

The weight of his words pressed heavily on me. Why is Aumale using them as leverage? Every second brought us closer to disaster, and we had precious few of them left. "Good work, Arnold," I said after a moment. "We'll use this information carefully."

Arnold hesitated briefly. "My lord, what do you intend to do about Thaddeus?"

A faint, humorless smile tugged at my lips. "Capture him—alive. He will be useful for my experiments."