The Wrong Hero Has Been Summoned
Chapter 13: Nobles

Chapter 13: Nobles

The following day, Luther woke up first and went outside, hoping that the line would have thinned out but to his surprise, the line was still going strong.

"Lazy fucks." He said, turning to look around the place. That’s when he spotted a girl swinging a sword, sweat running down her face. "Isn’t she..." He squinted his eyes to see better, "yeah, that’s the girl that was guarding the nobles last night."

He thought about it for a second and decided to approach but not he couldn’t even get close before her partner threw a sword at his feet. She was just sitting on top of inn, watching him with cold eyes.

He looked at her and then at the sword, "you lose something?" He asked casually, pulling out the sword and testing its weight, ’hmph, I like mine better.’

She jumped down and approached him with that cold look in her eyes not leaving. The other girl continued training, as if nothing was happening.

She reached him, her hand outstretched for her sword.

"What’s your name?" He asked, still holding her weapon.

She remained silent, just staring at him with those emotionless eyes.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" He twirled the sword once before holding it out to her, handle first. "It’s a decent blade. Bit light for my taste."

As she took the sword, the nobles from the previous night exited the inn. They walked in a tight group, talking among themselves and completely ignoring everyone around them. The two sword-wielding girls immediately straightened up and moved to flank them.

One of the nobles, a young man with perfectly styled blonde hair, noticed him watching them. He whispered something to the older man with silver-streaked hair, who glanced over with a look of pure disdain.

"You there," the older noble called out, his voice dripping with authority. "Step aside. You’re blocking our path."

He looked down at where he stood, then at the wide-open space all around him. He was nowhere near their path.

He didn’t move.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" the young blonde noble sneered. "Lord Haver gave you an order."

He crossed his arms. "I’m not in your way and I don’t take orders from you."

The nobles gasped as if he said something shocking. The other travelers in the area quickly backed away, heads bowed.

Lord Haver’s face darkened with anger. "Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to, boy?"

"Some rich guy who thinks he owns everything, including people," he replied with a shrug. "Seen plenty like you before."

The blonde noble stepped forward. "This peasant needs to be taught respect, Father. Let me—"

"No need to dirty your hands, Elias," he said. He snapped his fingers, and one of the guards moved forward.

He tensed, ready for a fight, but before anything could happen, Vess appeared at his side.

"Please forgive my companion, my lords," she said with a perfect bow. "He’s not from around here and doesn’t understand our customs."

"So he is filth from lesser regions?" He looked even more disgusted. "That explains the smell and lack of manners."

His hand instinctively moved toward his sword, but Vess gripped his arm tightly.

Lord Haver noticed the movement and laughed. "You think you could draw that sword against me? I could kill you with a thought before your hand reached the hilt."

"Maybe," he said calmly. "But thoughts don’t always move faster than hands. Want to test it?"

The air seemed to grow heavy. Even the birds stopped chirping. The blonde noble, Elias, looked nervous despite his earlier bravado.

"Father, we’ll be late for the viewing," he said quietly.

Lord Haver stared at Luther for a moment longer, then made a dismissive gesture. "Not worth my time. The tournament will sort out trash like this soon enough."

As they walked away, Luther caught the eye of the cold-eyed girl. For just a second, he thought he saw something like respect flicker across her face before it returned to its emotionless state.

Vess released his arm once the nobles were out of earshot. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" she hissed.

"They’re just people with fancy clothes," he said. "Back where I come from, I dealt with rich assholes like that all the time."

"These aren’t just ’rich assholes,’" she said. "Lord Haver is an A-rank noble. He could literally vaporize you with a gesture."

"Yet he didn’t," he pointed out. "Guys like that are all the same. They want you afraid. The moment you show you’re not, they don’t know what to do."

Luna and Selene joined them by this point, having rushed out of the inn.

"We heard there was trouble," Luna said, looking worried.

Selene shook her head. "Antagonizing House Haver before the tournament even starts. Bold strategy."

"House Haver?" He asked.

"One of the most powerful noble families in Section B. They sponsor fighters in the tournament every year. Lord Haver himself is known for his cruelty to those he considers beneath him—which is basically everyone."

He watched the nobles’ retreating backs. "Yeah, well, where I’m from, there were people who thought they owned the world too. They stepped on anyone weaker just because they could. Always hated that."

"It’s different here," Vess insisted. "The power gap between us and them isn’t just money or status—it’s literal power. A single S-rank noble could destroy an entire city without breaking a sweat."

He shrugged. "Power’s power. Whether it’s money, magic, or muscles—people who have it usually use it to bully those who don’t." He turned to look at his companions. "But that doesn’t mean you bow and scrape just because they want you to."

Selene studied him with a curious expression. "You’re either very brave or very foolish," she said finally. "Possibly both."

"Been called worse," he replied with a half-smile. "So, are we going to get in line, or what?"

As they walked toward the checkpoint line, he noticed several people watching him and whispering. His confrontation with the nobles hadn’t gone unnoticed.

"Great," Vess muttered. "Now everyone knows who we are, again."

"Could work in our favor," Selene said thoughtfully. "Luther just stood up to House Haver. That will earn respect from some quarters."

"And a target on his back from others," Luna added worriedly.

He ignored them all, his eyes fixed on the checkpoint ahead. Rich or poor, powerful or weak—it didn’t matter to him. He faced impossible odds before and survived. This world, with all its ranks and nobles, was no different from the one he left behind.

The strong preyed on the weak, and the rich thought they could buy or bully their way through anything.

But he had never been one to bow, no matter the cost.

"Let’s go," he said, stepping into line. "I’ve got a tournament to win."