Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 67 - Blood for Stability

"To reclaim the glory they lost three hundred years ago, I suppose."

"Yes, normally that’s the case. That’s why the Imperial Liberation Army wouldn’t suspect them. The mages believe their desired status exists within the new society the Imperial Liberation Army seeks to establish."

If the collaborating mages were ordinary ones, they would naturally support the Liberation Army to secure their place in the new order. After all, if the empire dominating the continent refused to accept them, then they had no choice but to help create a new hierarchy.

But for dark mages, who had no interest in rank or status, it was a different story entirely. Whoever held power made no difference to them. They would take what they needed and disappear.

"The Imperial Liberation Army is convinced there will be no betrayal," William continued. "And the dark mages plan to exploit that perception. By the time the army realizes it’s been deceived, it will already be too late."

Most crucially, in his previous life, this incident had been completely covered up. In other words, it had never escalated to a scale too large to conceal.

If Bornholm Castle, an impregnable fortress and strategic stronghold, had been destroyed, it would have been impossible to keep it a secret. The events must have been written off as little more than a monster raid on Greve City.

"Well, at least we won’t have to request aid from the imperial family," Tristan mused. "If this is their plan, then our current forces should be sufficient to handle it."

"...That’s true," he conceded after a pause. A faint smile played on his lips, the weight of his greatest concern lifting from his shoulders.

"Since the dark mages’ objective is clear, we need to reinforce Greve City’s defenses," William suggested. "We should keep this quiet to avoid tipping off the enemy, but—"

"No, we won’t move any troops," Tristan interrupted. "No one else needs to know about this. We will maintain our current vigilance toward the Imperial Liberation Army, nothing more."

"...What?"

William couldn’t help but ask again.

What was he saying?

Even after discovering the enemy’s intentions, he planned to do nothing and simply maintain the status quo?

"Did you hear anything I just explained?"

"Of course," Tristan replied calmly. "Including the part where they might be capable of magic strong enough to destroy the city walls."

"And what does that matter? Their target is Greve City, isn’t it?"

"If the dark mages find Greve too well-fortified, do you really think they’ll persist in attacking it? If I were them, I’d go for Bornholm Castle instead—after all, they’d only need to break the walls there, and its garrison is smaller."

William let out a dry laugh. Finally, he understood what Tristan was getting at.

"You’re planning to offer up Greve City as a sacrifice?"

"There are only two dark mages," Tristan countered. "Even with their magic, there’s a limit to how many people they can capture. At best, they might abduct a few dozen people in the chaos of a monster raid."

"A few dozen, at the very least," William retorted. "And if you count those who will be killed in the attack, the number will be even higher."

"But it’s also the option with the least casualties overall," Tristan argued. "More importantly, monster raids aren’t uncommon. The imperial family won’t find it suspicious."

For Tristan, the worst-case scenario was the empire launching a witch hunt around Bornholm. It would be a blatant act of interference in his domain, disgrace the Hern name, and lead to massive losses in both wealth and lives.

Compared to that, a controlled sacrificial raid by dark mages was a manageable crisis. If he had to choose, he would rather let the latter happen and cover it up afterward.

"Even if Greve City is attacked, it won’t be destroyed," he continued. "It will be a disaster for the citizens, but at most, we’ll be looking at three to four hundred casualties. And they’ll handle the aftermath on their own, even without our support."

"Are you even aware that those three to four hundred people are Hern citizens?" William’s voice was cold. "You claim to be aiming for the position of the next head of the house, yet you’re willing to hand over our people as sacrifices?"

"If the imperial family learns about the dark mages, those same citizens could be burned alive by the imperial guards," Tristan replied, unfazed. "Would you rather see them die at the hands of their own ruler, or at least meet a more dignified end at the hands of monsters?"

A pointless death at the empire’s hands, or an unfortunate but inevitable loss—Tristan clearly saw a distinction.

William clenched his teeth, his rage barely contained.

"In that case, I’ll take my mercenaries and stop them myself."

"You will not."

"Not even a small group of mercenaries? Are you that afraid of the imperial family?"

"No," Tristan said firmly. "I won’t let you go because it’s you. I won’t send you into danger."

For a moment, William wondered if he had misheard.

Did his past self and Tristan share some kind of brotherly bond?

"You are a Hern," Tristan continued. "As a member of the ducal family, how could you recklessly put yourself in harm’s way? Never forget the blood that flows through your veins. You must tread carefully and choose your path wisely."

The illusion shattered in an instant.

William exhaled sharply and rubbed his temple, irritation building.

’So he’s a noble supremacist to the core.’

He had seen men like this in his past life. Those who believed noble blood alone commanded respect, who insisted even mortal enemies deserved courtesy if they were of high birth. The same people who would execute a commoner for the slightest offense but spare a noble even after they had burned entire territories to the ground.

"The Hern bloodline carries a weight of its own," Tristan pressed on. "Those who rule must always make difficult decisions. They must weigh lives on a scale and make the necessary sacrifices. Do not let trivial sentimentality lead you to throw your own life away."

Though the words were spoken with concern, William could feel a boiling rage rising in his chest.

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