Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

199 The Emperor's Summon

"Forget how he escaped," William said, shifting the focus. "House Calix has existed for centuries. It was inevitable that some would remain loyal to him. What matters now is what comes next."

William turned to the map on the wall, studying the layout of the north.

"If Norbeck has fled, then there's only one place he'll go—his territory. From there, he'll gather forces and cry out for justice, claiming his innocence."

"That means war," Glenn muttered.

"Not necessarily," William corrected. "By now, everyone knows House Calix is a sinking ship. No one wants to go down with it. If we counter his claims quickly, this won't even be a war—just a cleanup operation."

A one-sided purge.

But if even a fraction of Norbeck's rhetoric gained traction—if people believed his words—

Then it would be real war.

Glenn shut his eyes for a moment, exhaling sharply.

"Damn it."

Now what?

If they handed over the mage to the capital now, it would only weaken William's position.

It would look as if the Imperial Court was sabotaging its own Duke.

And Glenn knew, without a doubt, that this would only deepen the rift between William and the Empire.

Which meant one thing.

He had no choice but to delay.

William already knew it.

"Regardless of what happened," William said calmly, "your task remains the same, Sir Glenn. Tomorrow, you will report to His Majesty and seek guidance on the mage's fate."

"…Understood."

There was nothing else to be done.

Glenn simply nodded, accepting the reality of the situation.

Not long after Glenn left, another visitor arrived.

"Your Grace," Torkel said with an air of exaggerated pride. "Mission successfully completed."

William scoffed.

"Successfully? That's debatable."

Torkel blinked. "What do you mean—?"

"You promised you'd be back in time for the banquet," William reminded him. "Yet somehow, you only returned after I left for the Centenary Hunt."

"Well, I mean—technicalities."

"Miss a deadline, and your work is worthless."

Torkel coughed awkwardly. "Yes, well—aside from that, the mission was executed flawlessly."

William waved a hand dismissively.

"At least you proved you're competent. That's something."

Torkel visibly relaxed.

Taking a seat, he leaned forward.

"So," William said, "your friend—what was his name? The third son of House Beor?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Now that he's inherited the title, is he still on our side?"

"He has no choice but to be," Torkel replied confidently. "Even as a blood heir, a rebellion is still a rebellion. To secure his position, he'll need your approval."

William smirked.

"Good. I was concerned he might change his tune after taking power."

"On the contrary," Torkel said. "He'd lick your boots if you asked. You'll see for yourself soon enough."

William's eyes gleamed with amusement.

Before the conversation could continue, Torkel hesitated.

"By the way," he said, "about last night—"

"Stop."

The single word sent a chill down Torkel's spine.

William's voice had lowered—just slightly.

But the change in tone was enough.

A warning.

A dangerous one.

One step further, and Torkel knew—the trust he had rebuilt would vanish.

He swallowed.

"…I was just going to say," he corrected himself, "that the moon was clear last night. Shame I wasn't around to enjoy the view."

"Perhaps another time," William said smoothly. "Anything else?"

Torkel shook his head. "No, Your Grace. But when you do decide to speak, I'll be listening."

William smiled.

"Good answer. You can go."

Torkel rose from his seat and started toward the door.

Then—just as he reached it—William spoke again.

"Oh, and about that potion you took?"

Torkel turned. "Yes?"

"You should rest for the next few days."

Torkel frowned. "Why? I thought you said it wasn't poison?"

"It's not. But the potion forcefully pulls strength from your body. By tomorrow, you'll feel exhausted and sore. If you push yourself, you'll be bedridden."

The potion had been used for years during wartime—a last resort.

Minimal side effects, but if abused, it could seriously damage the body.

Torkel paled slightly.

"…Noted," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder.

William simply chuckled.

"You'll be useful soon enough."

Torkel had matured—his past failures had humbled him.

Now, he could control his temper, suppress his impulses.

All he needed now was experience.

William's gaze flickered toward the map once more.

Then, lifting his teacup, he murmured to himself:

"Poor old Norbeck."

The man had escaped, yes.

But the journey back to his territory would break him.

At first, he'd feel strong. Unstoppable.

But soon, the exhaustion would set in.

His old body would betray him.

By the time he returned, he'd be weaker than ever.

And then—

"Instead of gathering allies, he'll start losing them."

A leader who showed weakness lost support.

William sipped his tea, a slow smile creeping onto his lips.

"Just hold on a little longer, old man."

Soon enough, I'll crush you myself.

Another day passed since the news of Norbeck's escape had sent shockwaves through the White Palace.

And now, the time had come.

Today was the day that Collin's fate would be decided by the Emperor himself.

William, not one to leave things to chance, paid Glenn an early visit.

"Sir Glenn," he said smoothly, "I trust you'll fulfill your promise and bring this matter before His Majesty today?"

"…Of course," Glenn replied, though there was an unusual stiffness to his tone. "However, an abrupt morning report would be disruptive. It would be better to wait until the afternoon."

William smiled.

"Naturally. Whenever you see fit—so long as we have an answer before the day's end."

There was no rush.

William had no pressing matters to attend to today, so he was content to wait for Glenn's report.

Or so he thought.

The sun set. The stars emerged.

Yet Glenn never came.

A delay was one thing, but Glenn wasn't the type to ignore an obligation.

By this point, worry began to creep into William's mind.

"Did something happen?"

Glenn was a man of strict principles, someone who never failed to honor his word.

If he hadn't returned by now, something was wrong.

William was just about to personally go and check when—

BANG!

The doors slammed open.

"Your Grace—!"

William turned, half-expecting to see a man on the brink of death.

Instead, Glenn stood there, physically unharmed.

But his face—

His complexion was ghostly pale, as if he had just come face-to-face with death itself.

William's brows furrowed.

"Sir Glenn," he said slowly, "your meeting was scheduled hours ago. What exactly—"

"His Majesty… wishes to see you."

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Author's Note: Whoever guesses what will happen in the next chapter correctly, I will give them 10 free chapters.

Offer valid for 12 hours