Our Family Is Nobility

“Huff, puff.”

Tyr ran all the way home, only to see several luxurious carriages parked in front of his house. Numerous knights stood around the carriages, and a bad feeling welled up in Tyr's heart.

The place they lived in was called the Kester Empire.

Its system was very similar to the European Middle Ages of his past life, implementing a system of nobility.

Most nobles looked down on commoners. In their eyes, commoners were merely lowly insects reeking of stench.

More often than not, nothing good happened when a commoner crossed paths with a noble.

To the nobility, even a commoner making eye contact with them was a sin.

In a world like this, a noble casually killing a commoner just because they were in a bad mood was as common as a daily meal.

Tyr had once heard that in the Kester Empire's legal code, when a noble questioned a commoner, the commoner must not turn their back to the noble; otherwise, it was a capital offense.

Some wicked nobles enjoyed using this law to toy with commoners. Two of them would stand in front of and behind a commoner, so no matter what the commoner did, they could not escape death in the end.

“Halt. Who are you?”

Just as Tyr was feeling anxious, a figure blocked his path, and a cold, gleaming blade was immediately pressed against his neck.

“Sir Filion, lower your sword. That is my son.”

Lanier walked out of the house, looking coldly at the knight pointing the sword at Tyr.

“My apologies, Young Master. I apologize for my rudeness.”

Filion sheathed his sword and bowed to Tyr in apology.

Tyr was dumbfounded. Man, you sure change your tune quickly.

“Tyr, come here.”

Just as Tyr was dazed, a soft female voice called out. It was his mother, Ivelina.

Nodding to Filion, Tyr jogged toward his mother.

Seeing Tyr running toward her, the slight coldness on Ivelina's face instantly melted away, replaced by a tender smile.

Beside her, Lanier's expression softened as well, his lips curving up slightly.

Reaching out to scoop up the running Tyr, Ivelina and Lanier walked into the house.

Once inside, Tyr realized there was a middle-aged man standing in the room.

He had the same white hair and red eyes as his father, though his face was much more weathered. He wore a set of silver-white armor, and a black sword emblem was stamped on the left side of his chest.

“Adel, I will say this one more time: we are not going back.”

Tyr could feel that his father was angry, currently suppressing his rage.

“Young Master Lanier, I did not come here this time to have you return to the family,” Adel continued indifferently, as if oblivious to Lanier's attitude. “Our purpose for coming this time is the young master.”

Almost the exact instant Adel's voice fell, a terrifying surge of magic power erupted from Lanier.

“Adel, do you realize what you are saying?”

At the same time, a golden glow emanated from Ivelina, enveloping Tyr and shielding him from the effects of Lanier's aura.

“Young Master Lanier, you should know that some things cannot be avoided. Even if you drive us away, next time, that person will come here in person.”

Adel's expression shifted slightly, clearly straining against Lanier's aura. Yet his tone remained firm, completely unshaken by the terrifying pressure Lanier exuded.

Upon hearing “that person,” the aura radiating from Lanier faltered, and his overwhelming pressure instantly dissipated.

“Young Master Lanier, the three of you have half a day to prepare. Tomorrow, the young master must return to the family with us.”

Looking at the somewhat despondent Lanier, Adel bowed slightly and turned to walk out of the house.

“Father, are you okay?”

Seeing Lanier's terrible complexion, Tyr reached out and tugged at his coat.

“I'm fine.”

Turning around to see his wife and son looking at him with worry, Lanier forced a smile.

“Tyr, you must be hungry, right? Let's eat first.”

Lanier reached out to pat Tyr's head, then turned and went into the kitchen.

Today's lunch consisted of roast meat, raw vegetables, broth, and white bread.

“Mmm, delicious.”

Cutting off a piece of meat drenched in sauce and putting it in his mouth, the rich, savory sauce and salty, flavorful meat juices exploded on his taste buds.

Although the cuisine of this world was rather simple—mostly consisting of roast meat, fried dishes, thick soups, stews, and a few other types of dishes—it was still a rare delicacy when prepared well.

If there was one thing Tyr had a slight issue with, it was the white bread. Not that the white bread tasted bad.

Honestly, for most commoners, white bread was something they could only dream of.

It was a food that only nobles and very wealthy commoner families could afford, while most commoners could only afford black bread.

But having been a Northerner in his past life, eating a meal without steamed buns always made him feel like something was missing.

Even though his body was clearly full, he still felt a psychological sense of hunger.

“But of course! Your father is a man who aspires to become a top chef.”

Hearing his son praise his cooking, Lanier immediately wore a proud, triumphant expression.

“Tyr, as a man, you must learn how to cook. Back then, your father relied on this very skill to win your mother over from so many competitors.”

As if recalling his past glory days, Lanier perked up and looked quite pleased with himself.

“Oh my, back then quite a few people said you weren't focusing on your proper duties.”

Ivelina looked at her husband and recalled those times as well, her bright smile adding a touch of radiance to the entire room.

“They were just jealous of me. A bunch of losers who could do nothing but rage in vain.”

Lanier was entirely dismissive. He never let other people's opinions become his burden. As long as he believed something was right, he would never change his aspirations, no matter how much others mocked or sneered.

And this was precisely what attracted Ivelina to Lanier; she loved her husband's confidence and free-spirited nature.

Although Adel's arrival had cast a shadow over the household, this lunch was still spent in a very pleasant atmosphere.

“Tyr, come here for a moment.”

In the afternoon, Lanier called Tyr, who was reading a book, into his room.

“Father.”

When Tyr entered, Lanier was pacing back and forth in the room. Tyr could tell his father was not in a good mood.

“Tyr, there is something I need to tell you,” Lanier said, finally letting out a sigh as he looked at Tyr standing before him. “Actually, our family is nobility.”