Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 53 - March to Bornholm: William’s First Command

William barely suppressed a chuckle.

That much was obvious.

In his previous life, Tristan had been a rigid perfectionist, a man who detested anything resembling negotiation or bargaining.

Unlike Jordi—who would manipulate and deceive—Tristan was honest to a fault.

If a soldier fulfilled exactly what was promised, he would receive exactly what was agreed upon. No more, no less.

It was why, when William had once been part of a patrol unit near Kelheim, he had seen firsthand how strictly Tristan enforced discipline.

Even when conditions were calm, he had refused to grant additional rest periods, insisting that no soldier should be idle.

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So if he was the one handling negotiations with mercenaries?

They were at a stalemate.

Neither side would budge.

Which meant… the situation remained unresolved.

"That is why one of you will be sent to handle the negotiations and command the mercenaries in the field."

Silence.

Sigmund’s gaze swept over his sons, waiting.

Jordi and Joshua, however, looked away.

The reason was clear.

Now that they fully understood the situation, it had only become less appealing.

Dealing with unruly mercenaries was one thing—but leading them into battle was another.

There was no guarantee they would follow orders.

If things went wrong, the so-called ’allies’ at their back might be just as dangerous as the enemy in front of them.

And on top of that…

No matter how well they performed, they would still be under Tristan’s command.

Jordi clenched his fists.

No matter what, Tristan would get the credit.

No matter what, they would be nothing more than his assistant.

No matter what, this was a thankless task.

They refused to volunteer.

The silence stretched, thick with tension.

Sigmund’s expression darkened, disappointment evident in his gaze.

But just as he was about to speak—

"I will go."

William’s words rang clear and confident.

Jordi and Joshua’s eyes widened, caught completely off guard.

Even Sigmund himself raised a brow in mild surprise.

"You?" the Grand Duke asked. "Are you certain?"

William nodded.

"I have never left Kelheim before, nor have I commanded soldiers," he admitted. "But this is an opportunity—one I will have to face eventually. Better to gain experience now than later."

Sigmund studied him for a moment before responding.

"And the funds for the mercenaries?"

"That is my only concern," William said. "Negotiation means nothing if I lack the coin to make a deal."

"You will be given sufficient funds," Sigmund assured him. "Not limitless, but enough."

"Then I have no complaints."

It was more than enough.

Because William had no intention of spending it all.

Negotiating with mercenaries?

That was the easiest part.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

For the first time in a long while, he was returning to familiar territory.

Preparation began immediately.

The moment the meal concluded, William wasted no time arranging for his departure.

A long journey lay ahead—days of travel, not hours.

The sooner he moved, the better.

Kelheim’s land stretched vast and wide, and the border where Bornholm lay was at the very edge of the Grand Duchy’s reach.

Fortunately, there was a major river along the way.

Traveling by water would halve the time it would have taken by road alone.

A small mercy.

Before setting out, William turned to Hans.

"You’ll be in charge while I’m gone," he instructed. "Keep an eye on the estate. If Jordi or Joshua try anything… stop them."

Hans scoffed, crossing his arms.

"They won’t dare touch your quarters anymore," he assured. "Not after what happened last time. Besides…"

His gaze flickered to the servants standing behind him—all former subordinates of Hugo.

"If they even think about trying something, these guys will make sure it doesn’t work."

William chuckled.

That much was true.

Every single one of those men had been personally selected by Hugo—handpicked for their loyalty and skill.

Not just ordinary attendants.

But guards.

"Speaking of which," William added, turning to Hugo, "you’re coming with me."

"I’d be insulted if you left me behind," Hugo said, grinning.

"Just know that this mission is about assisting my brother. You may not get a chance to earn any achievements."

"That’s fine," Hugo replied with a shrug. "I’d rather be in the field than sitting around wasting time."

William smirked.

"Besides," Hugo added, "who else is going to take care of you out there?"

William let out a soft laugh.

"Good point. Let’s not waste any more time, then. Anything we need, Father will provide. We travel light."

With that, they stepped through the castle gates.

And waiting for them outside—

A familiar sight.

Five men, clad in black armor, their presence commanding yet silent.

William recognized them instantly.

The Black Lions.

They had accompanied him once before—back when he had ambushed the Marquis’ son.

One of them stepped forward, offering a crisp salute.

"It has been some time, Third Prince," the man greeted. "I am relieved to see you in good health."

William arched a brow.

"Am I to assume you’re my escort for this journey?"

"Indeed," the knight confirmed. "Frankly, we are the only elite unit suited for the task."

William paused—then let out a short chuckle.

Hard to argue with that.

At one point, the Black Lions had been a legendary secret force—a shadowy name whispered among the elite.

But now?

Having encountered them so often, William couldn’t help but feel they were losing their air of mystery.

"Since we’ll be accompanying you for the foreseeable future, we should have identifiable names," the leader of the Black Lions said. "You may call me Raymon."

One by one, the other four followed suit—Martin, Vincent, Jude, and Widrow.

William arched a brow.

Identifiable names?

"Is that your real name?" he asked, skeptical.

Raymon offered a faint smirk.

"One of three names I rotate between," he admitted. "I primarily use this one for escort missions."

William clicked his tongue.

So it was a fake name.

None of them had given a surname either.

Which meant—every single one of their names was an alias, swapped out whenever necessary.

They really do handle assassinations and covert operations, then.

It made sense. A group that operated in the shadows would never use their real names in the open.

William decided not to pry further.

Their pasts were not his concern.

And whatever secrets they held… Sigmund was the only one privy to them.