Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

197 Shadows of Vengeance

William's eyes narrowed.

Something was wrong.

"Is the artifact damaged?" he wondered. "If so, he should have just told me outright..."

Then, suddenly, another possibility surfaced in his mind.

A far worse one.

There was only one reason the Imperial communication artifact would remain functional but Glenn hesitated to use it.

His entire demeanor confirmed it.

"The Emperor is unwell."

William's words came out carefully measured.

"Tell me, Glenn," he said, "has something happened to His Majesty?"

"Absolutely not!" Glenn's answer was too quick. His reaction was too sharp.

It was a lie.

William leaned back slightly, his suspicions confirmed.

"So, something is wrong with the Emperor."

If the Emperor were dead or on his deathbed, the court would already be in chaos. Glenn wouldn't be standing here, trying to maintain appearances.

Which meant…

The Emperor was still alive, but his health was failing.

Perhaps not enough to prevent public appearances, but bad enough that his closest attendants were wary of causing him any further distress.

They were delaying contact to avoid burdening him.

Not that Glenn would ever admit it outright.

William decided not to press the issue.

"Very well," he said instead. "In two days, we will report this matter to His Majesty. But if His Majesty orders the mage to be handed over immediately—"

"Then I will personally ensure it is done without delay," William promised. "You have my word."

Glenn studied him for a long moment before nodding.

"I will hold you to that, Your Grace."

Without another word, he turned and left.

William waited until the door shut behind him before letting out a breath, sinking into his chair.

"For now, at least, I've managed to keep him alive."

He had been fully prepared for the Emperor to demand immediate compliance. But thanks to this unexpected situation, he had bought himself two more days.

And that time would be crucial.

"Now, it all depends on whether the other piece of the puzzle does his job."

William's gaze flickered toward the door.

Before Glenn had arrived, he had already sent someone else out.

The pieces were moving.

The game had begun.

Deep in the dungeons, Norbeck sat motionless, his eyes bloodshot, staring at nothing.

His surroundings had faded from his awareness.

All he could see was William.

That wretched bastard.

The thief who had appeared out of nowhere and stolen everything from him—his power, his family's name, his legacy.

And now, his son.

Norbeck clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms.

"I will kill him. No matter what it takes, I will kill him."

It didn't matter how.

It didn't matter if there was no plan, no strategy.

All that mattered was hatred.

And hatred would be enough.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice.

"Norbeck Calix. How pitiful. I expected a grand scheme, yet here you are—rotting away in a cell like a common criminal."

Norbeck stiffened.

It wasn't one of the guards.

This voice was unfamiliar.

He turned sharply, his gaze landing on a shadowed figure standing just outside his cell. The man was draped in a black hood and mask, concealing every inch of his face.

An intruder.

"Who are you?" Norbeck demanded. "How did you get in here?"

The man chuckled.

"Let's just say I dislike Hern," he replied smoothly. "And as for how I got in—does that really matter?"

Clink.

Norbeck's eyes widened.

The masked man had just pulled a set of keys from his robes.

They were identical to the ones the guards carried.

Norbeck's pulse spiked.

"Those keys—!"

"Shh. Quiet now."

Click.

The first few keys didn't fit.

But the sixth one did.

Clank.

The lock slid open.

"Perfect," the man murmured before stepping inside.

He moved to Norbeck's shackles next, testing different keys until—

Snap.

The metal bindings fell away.

Norbeck remained frozen, staring at his now free hands.

"Can you move?" the man asked. "If not, I'll leave you behind."

"Fool," Norbeck scoffed. "I may be old, but I haven't even been tortured yet. Of course I can move."

"Good. Then let's go. The guards will be back soon."

The man's tone was almost commanding.

Norbeck's lip curled slightly.

A young brat barking orders at him like a subordinate?

How irritating.

But then, realization settled over him.

"Am I seriously still worrying about my pride?"

It was laughable.

Just minutes ago, he had sworn that he would sell his very soul for revenge.

"And now, I hesitate over a little bruised ego?"

Fine.

If abandoning his pride meant taking William to hell with him—

Then he would throw it away without hesitation.

Without another word, Norbeck followed his masked savior into the darkness.

This was his second chance.

His one chance for revenge.

And he would not waste it.

"Empty."

Norbeck scanned the entrance of the underground prison, eyes darting between the dimly lit corridors. Not a single soul in sight.

His masked rescuer let out a quiet chuckle from beneath his hood.

"What's wrong? Thought I'd shout 'Prison break!' and kill you the moment you stepped out?"

"I considered the possibility," Norbeck admitted.

"You still think too highly of yourself," the man scoffed. "Do you truly believe you're such a threat that William Hern would tarnish his reputation just to kill you immediately?"

Norbeck's lips pressed into a thin line.

He couldn't deny the truth of the words.

His current position was no different from a fish laid out on a chopping board.

William could take his time, slicing away piece by piece. There was no need for him to rush—not when time was already working in his favor.

"I respect your thirst for revenge," the man continued, his tone amused. "But don't let arrogance blind you. If you get yourself killed by acting recklessly, I'd say rescuing you was a waste of effort."

"Enough with the lectures," Norbeck snapped. "We don't know when someone might come. Shouldn't we be moving?"

"You're not wrong," the man conceded, "but I've already prepared a way out."

"A way out?"

"You'll see soon enough. But for now, we move."

Without waiting for a response, the hooded man turned and strode forward.

Norbeck hesitated only for a moment before following.