Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

"How foolish of me," Aizen murmured. "To have wasted my youth, only to grow desperate in my old age. The young will always rise, with or without my guidance."

His voice was light, almost teasing, but William could hear the deep sorrow in it.

Even if Aizen tried to dismiss it with a laugh, he had clearly placed his last hopes on William.

And now, those hopes had been turned down.

William hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"I have one question, Sir Aizen."

"Hm?"

"If there were another worthy successor—someone with the potential to truly inherit your legacy—what would you do?"

"...?"

Aizen blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question.

William's suggestion was simple.

William's proposal was simple: within the next two years, he would find and bring back a disciple even more gifted than himself.

"It will take time, but I will find someone whose talent more than makes up for those lost years. A disciple worthy of carrying the name of Sword Saint Aizen for centuries to come."

"Just hearing those words is enough."

"I mean it. I will find them."

"If that is the case, then I shall wait. But I fear I may have caused Your Highness too much worry with my selfishness."

Aizen let out a hearty laugh, brushing off the conversation lightly.

As if such a prodigy could exist.

William alone was already a once-in-several-centuries talent, and now he was promising to find someone even greater?

Aizen could only take it as a well-meaning gesture, meant to comfort an old man's regrets.

But unlike Aizen, William was completely serious.

"Felix the Sword Demon… He should be somewhere near Kelheim."

Felix.

A young man the same age as William, whom he had briefly encountered during his time as a mercenary in his past life.

Slender, with delicate features—so much so that he was often mocked for his beauty.

But those who laughed at him never did so for long.

For on the battlefield, Felix was an absolute monster.

"Even renowned knights could barely last a few exchanges against him."

What made it even more terrifying was that Felix had learned no special sword techniques.

His combat skills were purely technical—no magical reinforcement, no refined techniques like the Lionheart Sword.

And yet, he dominated.

William had once seen Felix instantly copy and execute a sword technique just by watching it.

At first, those around him had burned with jealousy.

But soon, their envy faded into speechless awe.

If William possessed a body blessed by the gods, then Felix possessed the god-given talent for battle itself.

In this new life, before Felix's name became known, William had to secure him.

There was just one problem.

Felix's whereabouts before becoming a mercenary were unknown.

The only thing William knew was that next winter, Felix would first appear in the small city of Vindeln, taking up mercenary work.

Until then, his exact location was a mystery.

"Aizen will have to wait at least a year… I'll have to apologize for that."

"Even so, I appreciate it," Aizen said with a smile. "It's not unpleasant to know that someone still cares for an old man like me."

At least outwardly, Aizen seemed to have cheered up.

Even if he believed William's words to be nothing more than kind reassurance, he still seemed grateful for the thought.

"Enough of this old man's ramblings," Aizen continued, his voice regaining its usual sharpness. "Whatever choice Your Highness has made, my duty remains the same—to teach you the sword."

William straightened his posture in response.

At last, the real training would begin.

"The third prince… was selected as a candidate for succession?"

Joshua frowned at the report from his servant.

Unlike his older brothers, Joshua had entered the competition for succession later due to his young age.

And now, just when he had finally started solidifying his position, William had entered the fray as well.

"This is absurd," he muttered. "That man stayed quiet all this time. What could have changed?"

His two elder brothers likely wouldn't take William seriously.

They had already established strong factions and were confident that William was not a threat.

But for Joshua, this was a serious problem.

William's sudden participation meant that undecided knights and supporters now had another option.

Many who had been considering Joshua would now hesitate, weighing their choices between the two.

"Damn it. He's nothing but a nuisance. Why couldn't he just stay out of the way and support his dear younger brother?"

"Is it truly something to worry about?" one of his attendants spoke up hesitantly. "The Third Prince has never shown ambition before. Even if he joins the competition now, it's unlikely he will—"

"Who said I was afraid of that idiot?" Joshua snapped. "The problem is that my own supporters might start wavering!"

"M-My apologies!"

His attendant flinched under the scolding.

Joshua forced himself to take a deep breath, regaining his composure.

"It wouldn't be a problem if William had continued making a fool of himself. But that damn incident with Jordy ruined everything."

Joshua had dismissed William's outburst against Jordy as nothing more than a fit of blind rage.

But others saw it differently—as a calculated, deliberate move.

The worst part was that those who had initially disregarded William were now reconsidering their stance.

Some might even switch allegiances.

That was unacceptable.

"I need to strip away his false reputation before it solidifies."

If people realized William was nothing special, they would stop entertaining ridiculous notions of hidden potential.

And all this nonsense about him having "hidden his fangs" would disappear.

But the problem was how to do it.

Now that William was an official candidate, Joshua couldn't attack him directly—harming another contender was strictly forbidden.

That meant he would have to find another way.

"Wait… What is William doing right now?" Joshua asked.

"He's currently at the training grounds, learning the Lionheart Sword from Sir Aizen," his servant answered. "Just as you once did, my lord."

A thought flashed through Joshua's mind.

His lips curled into a smirk.

"Perfect," he muttered.

Then, standing up, he barked out an order.

"Prepare two swords for me."

"Excuse me?"

"Two sharp swords. Real weapons, not training blades."

The servant paled.

"Y-You mean to challenge him with live steel?"

Joshua chuckled, his gaze fixed toward the direction of the training grounds.

"It would only be fair for a younger brother to help his dear elder sibling's training, wouldn't it?"