Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 186 - The March of Power

186 The March of Power

Blood still dripped from his ear where Felicia’s blade had cut him, but he made no effort to stop the bleeding.

Instead, he simply cupped a hand beneath it, careful not to leave a stain on the ground.

William watched him go, his expression unreadable.

After Torkel had disappeared from view, his retainers approached him.

"My lord," one of them murmured. "Was it truly wise to let him go like that? He is still Viscount Harald’s heir. If he gets himself killed in this rebellion—"

"He won’t die," William interrupted.

"...How can you be sure?"

"Because he’s an outsider in all this," William said. "Even if the rebellion fails, the conspirators won’t let him be caught. No one wants it known that a foreign hand was involved in an internal dispute."

Only a fool would keep Torkel in harm’s way while trying to overthrow their own family.

Even if they did plan on killing him, it wouldn’t happen until after their victory was secured.

Though, of course, that was assuming Torkel could even convince them to act in the first place.

William smirked.

"He handed me those documents so confidently," he mused. "And yet, did you notice? He didn’t say a single word about whether or not he could actually make this happen."

A rebellion wasn’t something one could will into existence. It required careful planning, a network of willing participants, and the courage to act when the moment arrived.

If Torkel succeeded, then he was worth keeping around.

If he failed?

Then he was just an arrogant fool who had overestimated his own influence—and there was no reason to waste any more time on him.

Either way, William had nothing to lose.

So he would wait.

Calmly. Patiently.

And in the meantime, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Enough about him," he said. "There’s something I need to show you all. When the sun sets, meet me inside the White Palace."

His retainers exchanged glances.

"…You found it?" Hugo asked, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

William’s lips curled into a smirk.

"See for yourselves," he said.

That night, when Hugo and Raymond finally saw the hidden chamber beneath the throne, their screams echoed through the palace.

After witnessing the underground vault with their own eyes, both men had the exact same reaction.

"This is a treasure hoard that could overturn the Empire! No artifact repository could compare!"

"But you must tread carefully, my lord. If word gets out too soon, we won’t even get the chance to use it before it’s snatched away."

"Exactly."

William nodded in agreement.

If he could secure a strong enough foundation—an environment where he could freely wield this knowledge—then claiming the Empire as his own would no longer be just a dream.

The problem was that creating such an environment was no easy feat.

"Even if we somehow secure mages capable of deciphering the techniques, the real issue is the Imperial Court’s scrutiny. We need to wait until their attention is elsewhere before we make our move."

"That means it won’t be possible for several years, at least. With the matter of succession still unresolved, all eyes will remain on you for the foreseeable future."

"Most likely."

William spoke as if he agreed, but inwardly, he held back a wry smile.

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It won’t take that long.

In his past life, the Emperor had fallen ill not long after razing Krefeld to the ground.

Losing the First Prince had undoubtedly worsened his condition, but William knew that the Emperor’s health had been failing for some time.

Judging by how recklessly he’s been courting my favor, he’s already running out of time.

The moment the Emperor collapsed, chaos would ensue.

And in that turmoil, the legacy hidden beneath the White Palace would finally see the light of day.

But he couldn’t exactly tell his retainers that he knew the future, so he simply nodded along.

"In any case, before we can even think of making use of these treasures, I need to solidify my power base first. Debt can always be repaid later—the important thing is securing sources of revenue."

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"No matter how much the Imperial Court is willing to fund you, there’s always a limit to what they’ll provide."

"If we squeeze Count Calix’s faction dry, we can cover the shortfall. The amount we take depends on how they respond."

In truth, William was hoping for a direct confrontation.

If Calix declared war outright, then he could crush them thoroughly and strip them of everything, down to the last scrap in their vaults.

If they thought they could steal from the Grimaldi estate and still keep their own wealth intact, they were sorely mistaken.

Fortunately, the preparations for dismantling Count Calix’s faction were coming together smoothly.

The restoration of the Grimaldi name and the retrieval of Asagrim had drawn numerous supporters to his banner.

The authority granted to him as Margrave had only expanded his reach.

And now, with Torkel’s "gift" in hand…

But the most significant advantage was the Imperial reinforcements soon to arrive.

Two thousand elite soldiers. One of the Imperial Order’s knightly divisions—the Blue Rose Knights.

They weren’t his troops. They were only being loaned to him.

But for as long as they were under his command, he could wield them as he pleased.

It was the largest force he had ever led in either of his lives.

William’s pulse quickened at the thought.

What will it feel like to command an army of this size?

Soon, I’ll find out.

With one last glance at his ancestors’ legacy, William turned and left the underground vault.

The time he had always dreamed of was drawing near.

The next day, William visited Glen.

"Sir Glen," he said without preamble, "I believe it’s time you handed over the troops you promised me."

Now that accommodations for the soldiers had been arranged, there was no reason to delay.

"I contacted His Majesty just yesterday regarding that matter," Glen replied. "Preparations are complete. The reinforcements can be dispatched at any time. However…"

He hesitated.

William’s gaze sharpened.

He wasn’t about to hear excuses, was he?

"…Is there a problem?"