Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 95 - Risky Alliance

95 Risky Alliance

"A favor? I believe you’ve come to the wrong person. I am nothing more than a staff in the hands of the Imperial family."

There was a stiffness in his tone, an unmistakable reluctance.

Regardless of how well he managed social interactions, it was clear he wanted nothing to do with politics.

William wasted no time in correcting the potential misunderstanding.

"This has nothing to do with personal politics," he said smoothly. "It is for the sake of His Highness, the Supreme Commander, and the Imperial family."

Blasker’s brows furrowed slightly.

"What do you mean?"

William glanced around, ensuring there were no eavesdroppers, then stepped closer and lowered his voice.

He whispered the details of his request.

Blasker’s eyes widened.

"Lord William, that is—mutiny."

"As far as His Highness is concerned, yes," William admitted without hesitation. "That is why I’ve come to you."

"No matter how righteous your cause may be, this is not the proper way," Blasker warned. "And should things go wrong, I’ll be held responsible as well."

"But it is also a necessary measure to prevent disaster," William countered. "I will take full responsibility for whatever comes of this. I only ask for your cooperation."

Blasker groaned, rubbing his temples. He was silent for a long while, deep in thought.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

"I suppose a safeguard would not be unwise. Very well… if it comes to it, I will do as you ask."

"You have my deepest gratitude, Lord Blasker."

"But let me make this clear—if we reach Bodiam without issue, this conversation never happened," Blasker warned. "If we make it that far, then your concerns are unnecessary."

"Of course."

William bowed his head respectfully, though inwardly, he doubted they would reach that point unscathed.

He had lived through this war before.

Time and time again, the First Prince had led his forces into situations where this very precaution had been necessary.

And unless his decision-making had miraculously improved in this life, history would repeat itself.

William could only hope that when the time came, he would be ready to take control.

The more mistakes the prince made, the more he would stand out as the one prepared to handle them.

As far as William was concerned, as long as the First Prince stayed alive, nothing else mattered.

"You will remain near the Horsen River and be prepared for any unforeseen circumstances."

With that short and dismissive order, the First Prince cast William to the rear lines.

Perhaps he believed adding some flimsy justification would make his decision seem more reasonable.

But no one—not the soldiers, not the knights, not the lords—was fooled.

The common soldiers, though uninformed about the deeper politics at play, could clearly see that this was nothing more than internal strife.

And for those who did know the full truth, the decision was downright infuriating.

"Unforeseen circumstances," my ass.

"The farthest border of the Empire? What kind of ’unforeseen circumstances’ could possibly happen out there?"

"If he wanted them stationed in the rear, he could have at least kept them close enough to serve as a proper rearguard."

But no one dared to voice their frustrations aloud.

Though the prince had yet to lead them to a loss, the fact remained—he was their supreme commander.

And for now, his authority was intact.

Once both William and the Second Prince were removed from the march, the First Prince finally seemed to relax.

"Now then, let us move on to the next village," he declared, a smile creeping onto his face. "The well there may have been sabotaged, but there is a stream nearby. Securing drinking water should not be difficult."

"Indeed, Your Highness," Bernhardt agreed smoothly.

Then, under his breath, he clicked his tongue.

Sabotaging a village well but not tampering with the stream nearby?

What kind of fools did the prince think they were dealing with?

Still, it was true that they needed to check the water supply as quickly as possible.

Without further argument, the coalition forces moved forward.

Soon, they arrived at the next village.

And, unsurprisingly, the sight that greeted them was bleak.

"The place has been thoroughly razed."

"The well is completely ruined. The water is undrinkable."

It seemed that after their assassination attempt had failed, the Krefeld forces had abandoned all pretense.

Rather than attempt another deception, they had simply begun to destroy everything in their path.

"As expected," Bernhardt muttered. "We should head for the stream."

The First Prince merely scoffed.

"You act as if this is some great setback," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "It only means our swift advance has caught them unprepared. They did not have time to destroy everything."

"You believe they lacked the time to sabotage a stream?"

"And why else would it still be intact?"

The prince’s certainty unsettled the lords, but no one voiced their doubts.

It’s not as if we have any other choice.

And so, after another day’s march, the coalition finally arrived at the stream.

A scout rushed to report his findings.

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"They attempted to divert the water flow, but the stream itself is clean! The water is safe for drinking!"

"...!?"

The lords exchanged glances, disbelief flickering across their faces.

The enemy had gone to such lengths to ruin everything else.

And yet, here was their water source—untouched.

Before anyone could question the anomaly, the First Prince clapped his hands together, his expression smug.

"It is as I said," he declared. "Our swift movements have thrown their plans into disarray. They did not have time to do more."

Bernhardt forced a smile and nodded, though inwardly, doubt gnawed at him.

"Then let us clear the blocked passage and restore the water flow," the prince continued. "Our men have suffered long enough."

The lords, still uneasy, reluctantly agreed.

One by one, the soldiers moved to remove the stones and debris that clogged the stream.

The weakened trickle of water soon began to strengthen, returning to its original state.

And as the work neared completion, Blasker, who had remained silent until now, suddenly furrowed his brows.

"Your Highness," he murmured, his voice unusually tense.

"Something is wrong."

No matter how he looked at it, Blasker couldn’t believe that the enemy had simply run out of time before they could destroy the stream.

The scale of the water source wasn’t large enough for that. If anything, it felt deliberate—as if they had wanted the coalition forces to stop here.