Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

159 The Gathering Storm

William moved fast.

The knight had already drawn his blade and started to carve into his own arm when William's hand shot forward, clamping down on his wrist like a vice.

Steel bit into flesh. Blood welled up, dark and red. If William had been even a second slower, the blade would have cut straight to the bone.

Insane.

That was the only word for it.

Just how much did this man hate House Calix?

A knight's sword arm was everything. Without it, he was nothing—a warrior who could no longer fight had no place in the battlefield.

And yet, he had been willing to sever it, just to prove his devotion.

William exhaled sharply, pushing the knight's hand away from the blade.

"Take a breath and explain. What exactly has Calix done to you?"

The knight's face twisted with anger.

"Their crimes are too many to count! They stole the Grimaldi name! They sowed division among the Northern lords! Their sins—"

"Spare me the grand speeches."

William's voice was quiet but firm, cutting through the knight's rage like a blade.

"I may be young, but I am not naive enough to be swayed by empty words. What is your real reason?"

The knight flinched.

For a moment, he hesitated—clearly reluctant to reveal the truth.

Then, finally, he let out a long, heavy sigh.

"…It's personal."

William tilted his head slightly.

"Your grudge, or your lord's?" Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

"…Both."

The knight clenched his fists. His entire body was tense, like he was trying to hold something back.

Finally, as if resigning himself, he spoke.

"They incited a rebellion in our lands."

William's gaze sharpened.

"A rebellion?"

The knight's voice dropped, thick with frustration.

"We managed to put it down. But… we lost many. Too many."

William studied him carefully.

"Who led it? Someone without a claim? If so, that would be treason against the Empire."

The knight shook his head.

"…It was our lord's second son."

William exhaled slowly.

It all made sense now.

A noble's own blood rising against them—an internal civil war. The kind of disgrace no lord ever wanted spoken of.

It didn't matter that Calix had manipulated the situation.

What mattered was that, at the end of the day, the rebellion had been led by one of their own.

And that meant the fault would always, in some way, rest on the ruling lord's shoulders.

William had already suspected that House Calix had stirred trouble among its fiercest opponents. But this confirmed it.

They hadn't just undermined Harald Osgaard.

They had planted the seeds of chaos everywhere they could.

The knight's breathing was ragged now, his body trembling with barely contained fury.

"Their sins have reached the heavens," he spat. "The Eight Gods will no longer grant them mercy. Justice is all that remains!"

He slammed his fist against his chest in a gesture of unshakable resolve.

"All we need is your command, Lord William. If you lead us, we will fight. We will burn Calix to the ground for what they have done."

William's lips curled slightly.

I see.

This wasn't about justice.

It wasn't even about loyalty.

They just needed him as an excuse.

A banner to rally behind. A name they could use to justify their revenge.

No matter how much House Calix had orchestrated the rebellion, without evidence, no one could act against them.

A small skirmish here and there would be ignored by the Empire.

But a full-scale campaign against House Calix?

That would be treason.

And unless they had enough power to justify it, the Empire would not allow it.

But William…

William was different.

He was a Hern prince.

He was Grimaldi by blood.

He was someone the Empire couldn't easily dispose of.

More importantly, he had the strongest claim to the very title House Calix had stolen.

And if things got messy?

William had connections—ties to the Imperial Court that could prevent the situation from escalating beyond control.

Of course they want me to lead them.

There's no better figurehead than someone the Empire can't easily move against.

William met the knight's gaze evenly.

"I understand your pain," he said at last.

"House Calix has committed too many sins to be forgiven. It is time they pay for their crimes."

The knight's eyes lit up.

"Then—"

"But not yet."

The knight's expression froze.

William smiled faintly.

"I have not yet reclaimed the Grimaldi name. If I am to punish them, I must do so as the rightful heir. Anything less would make me no better than them."

"Of… of course!" The knight nodded rapidly. "If you need resources, my lord, anything—anything—we will provide it!"

Without hesitation, he pulled a letter from his belt and held it out.

William took it carefully.

His eyes flickered over the seal—it belonged to a Northern lord.

A formal pledge.

They were ready to mobilize at his command.

William exhaled slowly, tucking the letter away.

Perfect.

He wasn't foolish enough to launch a direct war against House Calix.

Not yet.

Even with reinforcements, they still held too much power.

Even if the Empire allowed it, even if he gathered enough support, a premature war could crush everything before it even began.

But this—

This was better.

These are people willing to risk everything for revenge.

And what did that mean?

It meant they wouldn't let him die.

It meant that no matter what House Calix tried, William had a shield—a force that would protect him at all costs.

Even House Calix wouldn't dare attempt an assassination now.

Not when there were too many people watching.

William resisted the urge to smirk.

If House Calix wants me dead, their only option now is to face me head-on.

And if it came to that?

William would never lose.

A formal envoy arrived from House Calix.

Another delegation.

Another move in the game.

William watched as his attendants opened the doors, allowing the messengers inside.

He leaned back in his chair, smiling faintly.

Let's see what they try next.

William leaned back slightly, studying the knight standing before him.

Marcel Herscher.

Unlike Palmir, who had been arrogant and overconfident, this man carried himself calmly, his sharp eyes betraying no emotion.