Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 79 - March of the Storm

79 March of the Storm

"Well, they’re hardened veterans. They’ve survived multiple subjugation campaigns. To them, you probably looked like a rookie."

"That’s exactly how they treated me." Hugo scowled. "Even after beating them in duels, they still didn’t fully accept me. It wasn’t until I told them about my battle at Bornholm that they finally stopped giving me hell."

He shuddered at the memory.

"If I didn’t have that experience, I probably would’ve been kicked out."

William smirked. "Well, at least you have them under control now. All that’s left is proving yourself in battle."

Hugo nodded. "Yeah. But I doubt they’ll fully accept me right away." He hesitated. "Should I… ask for your support? If you speak up, they’ll fall in line immediately."

William raised a brow.

"You sure about that?"

"I—" Hugo immediately shook his head. His eyes burned with determination.

"No."

His voice was firm.

"If I can’t handle ten men on my own, then I don’t deserve to call myself a knight. I’ll earn their respect my way."

William smirked.

"Good answer."

It was a test—one Hugo had passed.

Everything was ready.

William mounted his horse, a thousand soldiers standing at attention before him.

The farewells had been said. His father’s speech had been delivered.

The only thing left was his command.

William inhaled deeply.

Then, he raised his voice.

"All troops—march!"

And with that, the Hern Army moved forward.

At William’s command, a thousand soldiers marched forward.

The route had already been mapped out, the estimated travel time calculated. For now, all they needed to do was keep moving.

Or so he thought.

Not long into their journey, Gerard—his assigned strategist—spoke up.

"I recommend maintaining our route but doubling our pace."

William raised a brow.

"That’s a forced march," he pointed out. "The soldiers will burn out fast."

"They would if they were conscripts," Gerard admitted. "But these men are standing army veterans. They can handle it."

William didn’t reject the suggestion outright. Instead, he asked,

"Then explain why we need to move faster."

Gerard’s answer came immediately.

"Politics."

William tilted his head slightly. "We haven’t even arrived yet, and you’re already talking about politics?"

Gerard remained calm.

"In coalitions like this, conflict is inevitable. No matter how much authority the supreme commander has, disagreements always arise."

William nodded slowly. "That’s expected."

"The issue is that those disagreements can escalate. If left unchecked, they can even split the coalition into factions."

That, William knew, was a disaster waiting to happen.

Factionalism wasn’t just about petty rivalries.

When military alliances fractured, everything became compromised—resource distribution, reinforcements, strategic coordination.

Sometimes, infighting was more dangerous than the actual enemy.

"If we arrive too late," Gerard continued, "then the fractures may already be too deep to mend. We won’t have the option of preventing the split—we’ll be forced to pick a side."

William’s expression darkened.

"…So we get there early to steer the situation before it gets out of hand."

Gerard nodded.

"Exactly. The sooner we arrive, the more control we have. Even if we can’t stop the conflicts, at least we’ll understand who stands where."

William exhaled slowly.

It made sense.

In his past life, he had seen this happen before—especially in large-scale mercenary campaigns.

Whenever multiple groups were hired for the same war, power struggles inevitably broke out.

If the Hern army arrived after things had spiraled out of control, they’d be at a disadvantage.

A preventative measure, then.

William nodded. "Fine. We’ll increase our pace—but if the soldiers collapse from exhaustion, this will have been pointless."

Gerard saluted sharply. "Understood, sir!"

His expression noticeably brightened as he left to relay the orders.

The increased pace proved to be no issue at all.

The soldiers marched in perfect discipline, their formations unbroken.

Not one of them slowed.

Not one of them complained.

William watched them closely.

"Not a single sign of fatigue?"

Even he, who had seen countless armies, found himself mildly impressed.

"So this is what it means to command an elite force."

It wasn’t about sheer numbers.

It was about quality.

A thousand men like this could easily defeat an army several times their size.

This was something he’d have to remember when he built his own forces in the future.

Thanks to the increased speed, they arrived far ahead of schedule.

William scanned his soldiers as they neared the coalition’s rendezvous point.

"…Not even a hint of exhaustion," he muttered. "I expected them to at least look fatigued."

Gerard smirked.

"Hern soldiers wouldn’t allow themselves to show weakness. This is expected."

William nodded.

At least they wouldn’t embarrass themselves in front of the other noble houses.

But when he turned to survey the coalition camp, he paused.

"…It looks like we weren’t the only ones who moved quickly."

Near the Horsen River, banners filled the landscape.

Each crest marked a different noble house.

Despite arriving early, more than half the coalition was already here.

William chuckled.

"You were right, Gerard. If we had moved at our original pace, we really would have been late."

Gerard nodded. "The others likely had the same concerns I did. They must have hurried as well. But I doubt they’ve been here long—three or four days at most."

William hummed in agreement. "That makes sense, considering the distances between the territories."

His gaze lifted.

A single banner stood taller than the rest.

A red dragon emblem.

"…So even the First Prince is already here."

A crest reserved only for the imperial family.

Raised higher than every other banner, the message was clear.

"The supreme commander is present."

William clicked his tongue.

"I thought it was an unspoken rule that the supreme commander arrives last."

That way, everyone else would be forced to wait—rather than making the supreme commander appear late.

"It depends," Gerard said. "Sometimes, they arrive first to preemptively settle disputes."

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freeweɓnøvel.com.

William smirked.

"’Settling disputes,’ huh?"

He wasn’t convinced.

He had never met the First Prince personally, but none of the rumors about him had been positive.

"Well, whatever. Either way, I have to meet him."

As William’s troops neared the Horsen River camp, the atmosphere shifted.

The moment they identified themselves as Hern, the area stirred.

Before they could even finish the registration process, a group of knights wearing the Red Dragon emblem came rushing forward.

At the head of the group, a young knight stepped forward and bowed.

"We express our gratitude for the unwavering loyalty of House Hern. I am Jurgen Wald, commander of the Black Scale Knights. I welcome the Duke’s representative."