Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 104 - Game of Authority

104 Game of Authority

The Emperor took in the battlefield with a measured gaze before turning to Claude.

The First Prince struggled to find his words.

"F-Father—no, Your Majesty, I... the war—"

"There’s no need to explain. I already understand."

Claude’s face twisted in confusion. "H-How? The messenger was sent only two days ago—"

"There are ways to know things." The Emperor’s voice was firm, but his expression softened slightly. "For now, let’s just be grateful that you are safe."

With uncharacteristic warmth, he placed a firm hand on Claude’s shoulder.

The prince lowered his head, shame evident in his posture.

After a brief pause, the Emperor shifted his gaze.

"Cedric."

The Second Prince straightened immediately.

"You did well supporting your brother. I heard you rode with the frontlines—are you hurt?"

"By the grace of the Eight Gods and the Great Dragon, I am unharmed."

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction.

"Good."

The words themselves were no different from before, but the tone behind them was unmistakably distinct.

When the Emperor spoke to Claude, his voice was full of warmth—almost fatherly. But when he addressed Cedric, there was only a hint of concern, nothing more.

After ensuring both his sons were unharmed, the Emperor turned his attention elsewhere. His gaze settled on Marquis Bernhardt.

"Marquis Bernhardt."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"A swift and decisive strategy. A wise choice."

"Your Majesty, I—"

"The war is far from over." The Emperor cut him off. "Even if no more battles are fought, as long as one side refuses to concede, it has not truly ended."

The unspoken meaning was clear.

This war will continue to drain resources—and you will bear the cost.

If the Marquis did not wish to take full responsibility for this failure, he had no choice but to continue his support.

Understanding the veiled warning, Bernhardt suppressed a grimace and lowered his head.

"You are correct, Your Majesty. As long as the war continues, the House of Logran will provide unwavering support."

"A fine answer. See that you uphold it."

The Emperor’s voice was as cold as ever. Without another word, he moved on.

And, predictably, the next place he stopped was in front of William.

William lowered his head slightly, awaiting the Emperor’s judgment.

Will it be reprimand or recognition?

It could go either way.

He braced himself, ready to respond accordingly—

But then, the Emperor spoke.

"You have my deepest gratitude."

William’s breath caught.

"As Emperor of the Empire… and as a father… I thank you."

"...!?"

The world stood still.

The Emperor—the ruler of the greatest empire on the continent—had bowed his head in gratitude.

William stared at the sight before him, his expression unreadable.

He had considered the possibility of being praised—but he had never expected the Emperor to bow.

"Your Majesty, this is too much. I do not deserve such an honor. Please, raise your head."

"You saved my son. And beyond that, you have safeguarded the Empire’s future. You are more than worthy of my thanks."

"I only did what was expected of me as a vassal."

"No. There is no such thing as ’expected.’" The Emperor’s gaze was firm.

"A ruler grants trust. A vassal repays it with loyalty. That is the natural order. But Claude had already withdrawn his trust from you, and yet you still risked your life to save him. That alone is worthy of gratitude."

Despite the seemingly heartfelt words, William’s expression subtly hardened.

It was not lost on him that the Emperor was not simply expressing thanks—he was making a statement.

A warning.

He was subtly reminding everyone that he knew everything that had transpired on the battlefield.

He isn’t even trying to hide it.

William realized this display was as much for the other nobles as it was for him.

A silent message: Nothing escapes my notice. Do not think the Imperial Court is blind.

But at the same time… the Emperor’s gratitude was genuine.

"If not for the Empire’s dignity, I would have knelt before you. That I can only bow my head is my own regret."

William exhaled quietly. This man was dangerous.

Even in this moment of thanks, he was controlling the entire situation, making sure no one forgot who held true authority.

"Your Majesty, your words alone are already more than I deserve. Please, I implore you—raise your head."

The Emperor chuckled softly.

"I suppose I shouldn’t push too far. It would be a shame if my gratitude became a burden to you."

With that, he lifted his head, effortlessly dissolving the tension in the air with his natural charisma.

William found himself reassessing Karl von Bey Austria—the last Emperor of the Empire.

In his past life, he had heard countless conflicting accounts of this man.

Some claimed he was an incompetent fool, responsible for sowing the seeds of the Empire’s downfall.

Others argued that he lacked power but was a ruler of admirable character.

Some even insisted he was a brilliant monarch who had simply been born into the wrong era, his failures the product of fate rather than ability.

But one thing had never been disputed:

When it came to the matter of succession, his judgment had been disastrous.

I used to believe he was nothing more than a failed ruler…

But now, having met the man in person, William could no longer say that with certainty.

This was not a ruler unworthy of his throne.

From miles away, he had grasped the entire situation on the battlefield. And when Claude’s failure had tarnished the Imperial family’s reputation, he had personally come to restore it.

Now, through his carefully chosen words, he had reasserted his authority, making it clear that the Emperor was still in control.

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He had even gone so far as to publicly express gratitude—an action that ensured his loyal subordinates knew their efforts would not go unrewarded.

This was a man who understood power, diplomacy, and the hearts of men.

If this were a time of peace instead of war… I might have even considered swearing loyalty to him.

But then why?

Why had someone this capable mishandled the issue of succession so disastrously?

Before William could dwell on it further, the Emperor suddenly smiled.

"If you do not mind, I would like to have a conversation with you. Would you accompany me?"