Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 75 - The Game No One Expected

75 The Game No One Expected

"There’s no need to worry. I understand the situation completely. I won’t make the mistake of getting too close to the First Prince. You can rest assured."

The reactions around the room grew even more bewildered.

He knew. He understood the political risks, the hidden motives, the dangers—and yet, he was still volunteering?

Veronica eyed him warily. "What are you planning?"

"Planning?" William gave a bemused look. "Now that’s odd. Weren’t you the one who suggested I go? You’re suspicious of your own choice?"

Her jaw clenched, but she had no rebuttal. She had wanted him gone, but now that he was agreeing too easily, she was second-guessing herself.

William turned back to his father.

"As you can see, I am the most qualified choice. Sending Tristan could create complications with the Emperor. Jordi and Joshua have no battlefield experience. That only leaves me."

"…Is that all?" Sigmund’s voice had cooled slightly, but his eyes were sharp.

"There is one more thing," William admitted. "If I am to go, I request full authority over my forces."

Sigmund frowned. "You’ll already be acting as my representative. That alone gives you full authority. What more could you want?"

William met his gaze without hesitation.

"No hidden supervisors. No ’advisors’ given to me under the pretense of guidance. If I am to lead, I will lead."

Sigmund went silent.

Because William had struck right at the heart of the matter.

Sigmund had indeed considered assigning an advisor to accompany William.

It was only natural—how could he entrust full military authority to a boy who had yet to see twenty? War was unforgiving. A single misjudgment could cost lives, territory, or even his son’s own head. A responsible overseer was necessary, someone who could provide counsel and, in the worst-case scenario, take control if things went awry.

"…They would only intervene in a critical situation," Sigmund finally said. "Unless you make a severe mistake, command will remain in your hands."

"So, if deemed necessary, my command can still be revoked," William observed.

"Only in an emergency."

"And the one who determines that emergency… would be the advisor."

Sigmund’s frown deepened. "Whoever is assigned will have far more experience than you. Are you saying you wouldn’t trust their judgment?"

Though the Duke’s tone was heavy with disapproval, William remained unshaken.

"This isn’t a matter of trust. It’s a matter of authority. As the commander, I must have the right to override any advisor’s orders. It cannot be the other way around."

Sigmund let out a dry chuckle.

The request was bold, reckless even.

Young men—especially those seeking to prove themselves—were known for their impulsiveness. They chased glory, overestimated their abilities, and too often made the kind of foolish decisions that got them and their men killed. If William truly held full authority, there was no telling what might happen.

But rejecting the request outright wasn’t so simple.

William had volunteered despite knowing his brothers and their mothers were trying to set him up for failure. If Sigmund denied him this as well, it would appear as if he, too, was throwing his son to the wolves.

Sending another son instead wasn’t an option either. None of them would willingly go, and forcing them would only create further conflict.

With no better alternative, Sigmund sighed and gave a slow nod.

"…Fine. You will have full authority."

"Thank you, Father."

"But," Sigmund added firmly, "given your lack of experience, you will still be assigned an advisor. Whether you heed his counsel or not is up to you—but do not dismiss it carelessly."

William smiled. "Of course."

The other family members also seemed satisfied.

They had assumed William’s insistence on full authority came from a reckless desire for glory, that he was simply another young fool blinded by ambition.

’They’re not entirely wrong,’ William mused.

He did seek recognition, and he did intend to do something bold.

The only difference was that unlike a fool, he had no intention of failing.

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They would come to realize that soon enough.

"The campaign begins in two months," Sigmund had said. "Once you leave, you will not return until the rebellion is quelled. Use this time wisely."

William smirked at the thought.

Two months was an exceedingly generous timeline.

Back in his past life, when the age of chaos had fully taken hold, wars didn’t afford such luxuries. Armies weren’t built up carefully over months—soldiers were conscripted overnight, supplies were stolen rather than secured, and battle began before one could even consider the logistics.

’This is the last war that will follow the old ways,’ William thought.

The Krefeld Rebellion was more than just a crisis for the Empire.

It was the beginning of the collapse of order itself.

After this, betrayals would become commonplace, dishonor would be expected, and war would be waged with no regard for tradition or strategy—only desperation.

William had no delusions about preventing that future. The fall of the Empire was inevitable.

What he could do, however, was buy time.

’I need more preparation before the chaos truly begins.’

The era of lawless warfare was coming, and when it did, William would not face it as a powerless noble caught in the storm.

He would face it as a ruler, standing above the storm.

He was about to leave for another meeting with Hugo and Hans when an unexpected voice stopped him.

"Deep in thought, I see. What kind of scheme are you cooking up this time?"

William turned to see Jordi approaching, his gaze sharp.

"Brother?"

"You look far too pleased with yourself for someone who just got saddled with supporting the First Prince in a rebellion."

William tilted his head with a sly smile. "Well, some people see crisis as an opportunity. Others can only see it as a crisis."

Jordi didn’t rise to the bait.

Instead, he studied William for a long moment before saying coldly—

"Do you know what the term cadet branch means?"

William blinked. "…A noble house splitting off to form its own family line, correct? Surely, you don’t think I’m an idiot?"

Jordi didn’t laugh.

"You understand the term. But do you understand what it truly means?" His gaze was unwavering, filled with something deeper than mere curiosity—something closer to suspicion.

"Cadet branches are nothing but parasites," he continued. "They abandon their claim to the main family, yet still leech off its name, its wealth, its influence."

William raised an eyebrow.