Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke-Chapter 98 - The Duel That Ended a War

98 The Duel That Ended a War

The battle raged on.

Swords clashed, spears pierced flesh, and screams of pain filled the air.

Dominic, one of Krefeld’s commanders, grinned as he cut down another enemy soldier.

Victory was assured.

The coalition army was already in shambles—their defenses broken, their soldiers weakened.

It was only a matter of time before they collapsed entirely.

And yet…

Something was wrong.

No matter how many men they cut down, the enemy refused to break.

They fought like men who still believed they could win.

Dominic frowned.

"They think they have a chance?"

That was impossible.

The entire coalition army was gathered here.

There was no one left to reinforce them.

Unless…

A deep, resounding horn cut through the battlefield.

All at once, the fighting stopped.

Both armies turned toward the sound—

And saw the banners of House Hern cresting the horizon.

"…Hern?" Dominic breathed in disbelief.

A furious roar erupted from the coalition forces.

"William Hern has arrived!"

Hope reignited in the soldiers’ eyes as their morale surged.

And as Krefeld’s forces hesitated, the tide of battle began to shift.

Dominic’s face contorted in fury.

"Damn it all!"

Something was wrong.

Dominic had expected to see House Hern’s banners immediately upon their arrival, but they had been absent—hidden, waiting in the rear.

And now, the battlefield had turned on its head.

His thoughts raced.

Even with their reinforcements, we still have the numbers. But most of our forces are locked in battle. Except for the reserve unit, there’s no way to reposition in time...

If things continued like this, they would be pinned down and struck in the flank.

And once their formation broke, it would be over.

They had to stop Hern’s advance before that happened.

There were only two ways to do it.

Capture the First Prince and end the battle in a single decisive move.

Or eliminate Hern’s commander and shatter their momentum.

The first option was unlikely.

The coalition forces were desperate to protect the prince.

Marquis Bernhardt was guarding him personally, along with Blasker—the head of the Fire School—and Jurgen’s royal guard.

Even if Dominic threw everything he had at them, they would hold the line until Hern arrived.

That left only one choice.

His jaw tightened.

"Reserve unit, with me!" he barked, spurring his horse forward.

William studied the battlefield as he rode.

The coalition was struggling, but they hadn’t broken.

Even now, with their forces battered and exhausted, they fought on.

More importantly, Krefeld’s troops were hesitating.

The moment they saw House Hern’s banners, they had faltered.

"They’re holding their ground," Gerard noted, riding alongside him. "We should strike now before they recover."

William nodded. "Form up and prepare for the charge. We’ll break their flank in one sweep—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

A group of enemy soldiers had suddenly broken away from the main force, heading straight for them.

William narrowed his eyes.

There weren’t enough of them to be a serious threat.

If they charged forward, these men would be trampled in an instant.

Then why—

His thoughts cut off as a lone figure rode ahead of the enemy line, armor gleaming, banner trailing behind him.

A noble.

The man pulled his horse to a stop and raised his sword.

"I am Dominic Lyre, Count of Krefeld and commander of this army!" he bellowed. "Hern’s commander! If you are not a coward, face me in single combat!"

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William blinked.

Then he let out a short sigh.

"Idiot."

Beside him, Gerard scoffed.

"They broke the Grand Accord, and now they want to duel?" He shook his head in disgust. "The nerve."

William chuckled.

"Lord William, there is no reason to entertain this. Let’s wipe them out and be done with it."

"No, I’ll accept."

Gerard stiffened. "What?"

"Slow the charge slightly, but don’t stop. This will only take a moment."

"You can’t be serious—!"

Before Gerard could finish, William had already surged forward.

Dominic grinned.

He thought his plan had worked.

That William had taken the bait.

But then—

His expression shifted as he realized something was wrong.

Hern’s forces weren’t stopping.

William wasn’t dueling to buy time.

He was simply removing an obstacle.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Dominic roared. "If you accept a duel, you must halt your advance!"

William’s response was cold.

"You lot broke the Grand Accord. Don’t expect me to honor tradition now."

"You bastard—!"

"Besides," William continued, raising his sword. "Why would I bother following proper etiquette for a man who is about to die?"

Dominic’s face burned red with fury.

This boy—this arrogant child—was treating him as if he were nothing.

"Then suffer the price of your arrogance!"

Dominic spurred his horse forward, blade flashing as he lunged.

William didn’t hesitate.

He met the charge head-on.

Dominic’s mind raced.

He’s using the Lion’s Fang.

A direct, overwhelming strike, meant to finish a fight in a single exchange.

It was strong.

But predictable.

Dominic knew exactly how to counter it.

The Lion’s Fang was powerful, but it restricted movement.

William wouldn’t be able to shift his attack mid-strike.

If Dominic met the strike head-on, neither of them would be able to control their landing.

They would both fall.

And I will recover first.

He had fallen in battle before.

He knew how to land.

William, young and inexperienced, would panic.

That brief hesitation—just a few seconds—would be all Dominic needed to drive his sword through his heart.

The moment their blades met, he knew he had won.

Then something went wrong.

His sword snapped.

William’s didn’t.

A split second later, Dominic’s world spun— and his head was no longer attached to his body.

His mind processed the impossible a moment too late.

He had miscalculated.

He had assumed their blades were equal.

He had been wrong.

As his severed head tumbled through the air, he saw William’s calm, impassive gaze.

And then he heard the last words he would ever know.

"Apologies. My sword is of finer quality than yours."

William caught Dominic’s head mid-air, blood still dripping from the clean cut.

For a moment, silence gripped the battlefield.

Then—

"Hern! Hern! Hern!"

His men roared, their voices echoing across the plains.

And with that, the tide of battle shifted.

Krefeld’s forces hesitated.

And in war, hesitation was death.