Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

179 Claiming the North

The knight in charge of the gate drew his sword without hesitation.

"I swear upon His Majesty's name—any further insult to the Imperial Family will be met with death."

A deadly stillness followed his words.

"Leave now. This is your final warning."

The shouting and protests died down, but no one moved.

If anything, the atmosphere only grew hotter.

The silence wasn't born of fear—it was the quiet simmering of anger.

The injustice of the situation was burning within them, threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation.

A single misstep would ignite a massacre.

"That's enough."

A new voice broke the silence.

William stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention.

The knight guarding the gate narrowed his eyes.

"And who might you be?"

William smirked at the lack of formal address.

He might be young, but his attire alone should have made it clear that he was no ordinary noble. Yet the knight had chosen to speak to him so crudely.

"Open the gates," William said.

"...What?"

"Open the gates and let them in. I permit it."

"You permit it?" the knight scoffed, his voice thick with disdain. "Are you under the delusion that this is your land!? This is His Majesty's direct domain!"

"It is mine," William said smoothly. "As of today."

"You insolent—!"

"William! Enough!"

Glenn finally intervened, rushing forward.

He had wanted to stop William earlier but had held himself back.

Now, however, things were spiraling out of control.

But William only turned toward him with a wide grin.

"Ah, perfect timing, Sir Glenn," he said. "We might as well make it official now."

"...Official?"

"I'll receive my appointment here."

"Here? At the city gates!?" Glenn groaned.

"As long as I'm within my territory, it shouldn't matter where it happens. And I rather like this spot," William replied cheerfully.

Glenn sighed, rubbing his temples.

"...If you insist."

"What nonsense are you babbling?" the knight snapped. "And just who are you supposed to be?"

At that, Glenn's expression darkened.

He turned to face the knight, his voice cold and sharp.

"Watch your tongue, fool. Do you even know who you're addressing?"

The knight blinked.

Glenn reached into his coat and pulled out a badge—the insignia of the Imperial Inquisitors.

"I am Glenn Reinhardt of the Black Scale Knights, a royal inspector serving under His Majesty himself!"

The knight's face drained of color.

"A-An Imperial Inquisitor…?"

"And you dare point your blade at His Majesty's representative? Speak your name, knight! Are you Sir Rottier, Captain of the Asagrim Guard? Or are you one of his subordinates?"

The knight—Rottier—flinched.

If Glenn had his name, it meant he was indeed a real inquisitor.

And if Glenn was truly acting under direct orders from the Emperor…

Then he had just threatened one of His Majesty's envoys.

Instantly, Rottier lowered his sword and dropped to one knee.

"I-I deeply apologize for my disrespect, Sir Glenn! Please forgive my foolishness!"

"Save your excuses for later! Stand aside at once!"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Rottier turned and shouted toward the walls.

"Archers, stand down! Lower your bows immediately!"

The soldiers hesitated for only a second before obeying, retreating from their positions.

Glenn clicked his tongue in irritation but dismounted from his horse.

"Your Highness," he said, looking at William.

"I'm ready," William replied.

Glenn nodded, then retrieved a sealed parchment from his coat.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice so all could hear.

"By the decree of His Imperial Majesty Karl Vin Austria, and by my authority as his representative—I, Glenn Reinhardt, hereby proclaim William Grimaldi Hern as the Margrave of Asagrim!"

A stunned silence followed.

The Margrave of Asagrim?

A Grimaldi noble receiving a border lordship?

It was strange enough, but the real shock came next.

"Furthermore, His Majesty grants him full dominion over Asagrim as his rightful fief!"

Even the murmuring stopped at that.

The entirety of Asagrim… belonged to William?

Glenn continued, barely pausing to acknowledge the crowd's stunned expressions.

"His title as Duke remains unchanged, and he shall serve as both Duke and Margrave henceforth. In addition, His Majesty grants him the White Palace as his official residence—!"

The declaration was complete.

William took the sealed decree from Glenn's hands and stood.

As he turned, his gaze landed on the young man who had spoken out first.

"You there," William said.

"Y-Yes?"

"Do you want to enter Asagrim?"

The young man hesitated.

"Uh… yes?"

At this point, refusing would have been absurd.

William smirked.

Then, turning to Rottier, he gestured toward the gate.

"Open it."

The knight's face tightened.

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"This… This is…"

"It's my land," William said coolly.

"..."

"His Majesty himself granted it to me. Are you saying you plan to defy that?"

"...No," Rottier admitted reluctantly.

"Then?"

William stepped closer, leaning in just enough that they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Open it."

Rottier shut his eyes tightly.

There was no way out of this.

Refusing would be the real act of treason now.

"...Open the gates!" he shouted.

A moment later—

—Rumble.

The heavy doors groaned as they slowly swung open.

The impenetrable gates of Asagrim, which had denied countless travelers before, now stood wide.

All because of a single man's words.

"...What?"

The gathered pilgrims gawked.

The sheer absurdity of it left them speechless.

After all that, after the threats, the tension, the standoff…

It had all been undone in mere moments.

William turned back to them and smirked.

"What are you waiting for?"

He spread his arms wide in invitation.

"I'm the landowner. I give you permission."

His voice rang out, confident and unshakable.

"Come in. Take your time and enjoy the view."

The pilgrims hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before cautiously stepping forward.

They glanced around, half-expecting someone to stop them, but the guards remained still.

Only Rottier, his expression a tangled mess of frustration and resignation, took a step back, avoiding their gazes.

That was all the assurance they needed.

One by one, the pilgrims crossed the threshold into Asagrim.

And the moment they did—

"Ah…!"

A collective gasp escaped from their lips.

Before them lay the heart of the ancient Northern Kingdom.