Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

195 Ashes of Betrayal

A sudden, thunderous sound echoed through the hall as the heavy doors were thrown open.

William strode in, his expression like carved stone, his gait unyielding and firm. Even before he spoke, the tension in the air was suffocating.

"Your Grace—"

"Godfrey is dead."

The words fell like an axe.

The room fell deathly silent.

"He tried to kill me," William continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "And instead, he died. A clever trap—far more elaborate than I expected. I didn't realize the good Count was such a meticulous man."

Every gaze in the room turned toward Norbeck.

His face had gone ghostly white, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"G-Godfrey… My son is dead?"

"Bring him in."

At William's command, his retainers entered, dragging a bound and shackled figure behind them.

The moment Norbeck saw the man's face, his eyes went wide with shock.

The mage.

The sorcerer who could call down lightning—the very one he had sent to aid Godfrey.

And yet here he was, a prisoner.

William barely spared Norbeck a glance before turning his attention to the captive.

"Speak," he ordered. "Tell them who you are and why you're here."

The bound man hesitated for only a moment before replying.

"I… I am Colin, a mage of the Celestial School. I was hired by this old man to assassinate His Highness."

A sharp intake of breath swept through the hall.

An assassination attempt was expected. But hiring an unregistered mage—one whom the Empire had outlawed—was a crime bordering on treason.

"What nonsense is this!?"

Glenn, who had been silently watching until now, suddenly stepped forward, his face flushed with anger.

"Are you claiming that this man is an unregistered mage? Do you have any idea what you're accusing the Count of!?"

Hiring an outlawed mage wasn't just an ordinary crime—it was an act of rebellion. This wasn't something that could be dismissed as a mere political maneuver.

"Your Highness, you must explain yourself!" Glenn demanded. "If this man truly is what you claim—!"

"Patience," William interrupted smoothly. "The story isn't over yet. Mage—continue."

Colin flinched at the commanding tone but nodded hurriedly.

He recounted everything—the way he had wandered aimlessly until he was discovered by Count Calix's men. How he had tried to escape, only to be captured and enslaved by the Count's household. Forced into servitude, used as a tool for their bidding. And eventually, when Godfrey set out on his mission, he had been dragged along, forced to partake in the assassination attempt.

"…But in the end," Colin finished, "I couldn't stand it anymore. So instead of killing His Highness, I used my magic to eliminate Godfrey and his men. Then, I surrendered myself to His Highness."

The hall erupted into chaos.

"You lying snake!"

Norbeck had never felt rage like this before. It coursed through his veins, threatening to burst from his very skin.

Enslaved?

Forced to work against his will?

Nonsense.

That wretched sorcerer had walked in willingly and had been paid handsomely for his services. He had enjoyed every luxury, roamed freely through the estate, and now—he dared to twist the story into this pathetic lie?

But Colin remained unfazed.

"If you need proof," he said, "I can provide it. I can describe, in detail, the secret estate where I was kept. The layout, the hidden rooms—things no ordinary person could know. Send your men to check it for themselves."

Norbeck clenched his teeth so hard it hurt.

He had given Colin that hideaway himself.

The mage had asked for a secluded place, and he had granted it.

"Additionally," Colin continued, "I was frequently taken through the Count's private tunnels. I know exactly where they are."

Of course, those tunnels had been shared with him—for his own safety. If he had been seen in public, it would have been disastrous.

"We also regularly acquired materials for my magic. The records should still be there."

That was the final straw.

The grinding sound that escaped from Norbeck's throat was pure, unfiltered fury.

"Count," Glenn's voice was dangerously calm. "Is any of this true?"

Norbeck barely heard him.

There was only one thing he needed to confirm first.

"My son…" he whispered, his voice shaking. "Where is Godfrey?"

William tilted his head slightly.

"I told you," he said. "He was struck by the very magic intended for me. You should have already guessed what that means."

"You expect me to believe that?" Norbeck growled. "For all I know, you killed him with your own hands!"

William smirked.

"I figured you'd say that," he said. "That's why I made sure to bring him along. He was much lighter than I expected—made the transportation much easier."

Norbeck's face drained of all color as William gestured toward the entrance.

"Shall we take a look?" William asked. "Though I doubt you'll be able to recognize him."

A hollow, humorless chuckle escaped from Norbeck's lips.

His lifeless gaze remained fixed on the corpse sprawled before him.

The body was so thoroughly charred that identifying it by sight alone was nearly impossible.

The gathered nobles grimaced at the gruesome sight, murmuring among themselves.

"Is that really Lord Godfrey?"

"He looks… smaller than I remember."

"Burned bodies shrink from the heat. That's normal. When someone dies in a fire, their—"

THUD.

The sharp crack of a cane striking stone silenced the room.

Norbeck had slammed his staff against the wall with enough force to split the skin of his palm, fresh blood trickling down his knuckles.

Not a single noble dared to speak after that.

A long silence stretched across the hall before Norbeck, forcing himself to remain steady, let out a trembling breath.

"I… I need to confirm it."

"As you wish," William replied with a casual shrug before gesturing toward the guards.

The soldiers stepped aside, leaving the body unguarded.

Norbeck knelt before the corpse, hands shaking as he pried open the mouth.

The face was unrecognizable, but no amount of fire could rearrange a man's teeth.

And there it was.

The missing canine. The chipped front tooth.

It was undeniable.

Norbeck's breath hitched, his body sagging as he slumped to the floor in defeat.

William's voice cut through the silence.

"Is that confirmation enough for you?"

At that moment, something inside Norbeck snapped.

All-consuming hatred burned away the despair, flooding every fiber of his being with rage. His bloodshot eyes locked onto William.

"YOU DARE—!"

He lunged.

Or rather, he tried to.

Before he could take more than a few steps, there was a sickening crack as Felicia's sword hilt struck his forehead.

The force sent him collapsing onto the ground.

"Lord Norbeck!"

"What is the meaning of this!?"

The knights of House Calix hesitated, caught between their oaths and the grim reality before them.