Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

205 Echoes of the Dying King

Torkel knew better than anyone that the importance of the mission far outweighed his personal discomfort.

William was about to dismiss him when he suddenly remembered something.

"Ah. Before you go, take this."

He pulled a vial from his coat and handed it to Torkel.

The moment Torkel saw the shimmering golden liquid inside, his eyes widened in astonishment.

"What in the world…? I've never seen a potion that glows like this."

"Nectar," William said simply.

Torkel froze. "Wait. You don't mean the nectar? As in, the divine drink of the masters?"

"It's just a potion that borrowed the name."

"The arrogance of whoever made this is astounding," Torkel muttered. "Naming a mere potion after a drink of legend…"

William chuckled. The reaction was identical to what he had heard in his previous life.

Of course, once people experienced the potion's effects for themselves, all such complaints quickly disappeared.

"So what's this for?" Torkel asked.

"If the retainers you're escorting doubt your identity, show them this," William explained. "It'll serve as proof and convince them to follow you."

Torkel's expression grew serious. "It must be something truly valuable, then."

William said nothing.

It was beyond valuable.

But there was no need to explain.

Once Torkel completed his mission, he would learn for himself.

With Lestar and Torkel dispatched, William turned his attention back to the Emperor's decree.

Glen had been leaving Asagrim repeatedly over the past few days, attempting to open a dimensional gate.

Asagrim's unique properties prevented gates from being created within its borders, meaning Glen had to travel outside to attempt the spell.

But for some reason, unlike before, the gate refused to open.

Each time, Glen would spend an entire day trying before returning, only to repeat the process the next morning.

On the seventh day, William finally lost patience.

"Sir Glen," he said, "is something wrong?"

Glen hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "No, Your Highness. The timing simply hasn't been right. But there is no need for concern—I will see the Emperor soon."

William narrowed his eyes.

Glen's voice was calm. Too calm.

For a man who usually struggled to hide his emotions, his composure was unnatural.

William decided to wait a little longer.

Then, on the seventh day—

The gate finally opened.

It remained active for only a fleeting moment, but it was enough.

Through the shimmering portal, something was passed through.

Glen took it.

And when he emerged from the gate, he was deathly pale.

"Your Highness…"

William immediately sensed something was wrong.

"What happened?"

Glen didn't respond.

He simply handed William the object he had received.

William took it—and his fingers trembled as he recognized what it was.

The Emperor's decree.

Stained with blood.

Had there been no time to even wipe away the blood?

William already knew the Emperor's condition.

But even with that knowledge, it was unlike the Emperor to reveal weakness so openly. A ruler would sooner pretend to be recovering than admit to worsening health.

And yet, the Emperor had sent this decree, stained with fresh blood.

'It must be dire.'

He was still clinging to life, but only just.

At this point, it wouldn't be surprising if he collapsed at any moment. Otherwise, he would have at least spared the time to wipe the decree clean before sending it.

"Your Highness, this is the document His Majesty promised."

Glen's voice trembled slightly as he presented the decree.

By protocol, he should have formally read it aloud on behalf of the Emperor before handing it over. But now, even the simplest of courtesies seemed a luxury.

"…Tell His Majesty that I am forever in his debt," William said, kneeling as he reached out to receive the decree with both hands.

Just as his fingers brushed the parchment, Glen spoke again.

"His Majesty left you a message."

"A message?"

Glen took a deep breath. Then, in a heavy tone, he relayed the words:

"Do not forget."

Short. Simple.

And yet, it carried a weight that could crush mountains.

Still kneeling, William lowered his head.

"I will never forget," he vowed.

Glen hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more—but in the end, he simply let out a sigh and passed the decree to William.

William broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

His eyes gleamed as he read the contents.

—To William Grimaldi Hern, Duke of Hern and Grimaldi, Warden of Asagrim, I grant the authority to pardon and recognize unregistered sorcerers as legal subjects of the Empire.

More details followed, but nothing was as important as that first line.

A decree, personally written and signed by the Emperor, granting William the power to legalize unregistered mages.

By simply announcing its contents, William could change the course of history.

Carefully, he tucked the scroll into his coat and turned to Glen.

"What will you do now? Will you return to Tivron immediately?"

"I would like to," Glen admitted, "but I must first settle my affairs here. I need to speak with the Blue Rose Knights and the city's defense forces."

"You intend to take Asagrim's former garrison with you?"

Glen's expression darkened. "...That will be difficult."

The soldiers the Emperor had lent, as well as the Blue Rose Knights, were expected to remain in Asagrim.

They had been assigned to William's service until the war with Count Calix was fully resolved.

But the former Asagrim garrison had no such obligation. The moment William took over, they had lost their reason to stay.

"They will have to return on their own," Glen muttered. "We can arrange funding for their travel expenses, but they will have to manage the journey themselves."

William barely managed to suppress a bitter laugh.

Even a city's garrison was still an army, no matter how small.

Moving troops required resources, and their presence drew attention.

Yet the Empire had effectively abandoned them—no provisions, no escort, not even a semblance of support.

'In other words, they don't have the means to take them, so they're leaving them behind.'

It wasn't surprising. The Empire had no reason to care for a regional defense force that was no longer under its command.

Whether those soldiers made it back alive was of no concern to the throne.

"I leave tonight, Your Highness," Glen said. "If there is anything else I can do for you before I go, now is the time."

William nodded.