Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Chapter 125 125 Beyond Duty

125 Beyond Duty

He flinched at the call, pulled from his thoughts by William's voice.

There was an unusual weight to his tone, devoid of the casualness he usually carried.

"Who do you serve?"

A simple question. And yet, its meaning ran far deeper.

Raymond closed his eyes.

If he were to answer formally, his lord was Grand Duke Sigmund. As a knight, loyalty demanded that he report everything he had witnessed today.

But... was that truly the right decision?

A heavy sense of doubt gnawed at his heart.

This discovery was too significant, too dangerous. Even the mighty Grand Duke might find himself overwhelmed by its implications.

And beyond that—

The House of Hern was currently embroiled in a fierce succession conflict.

If news of this potion reached the wrong ears, it wouldn't just be a simple matter of power—it could tear the entire continent apart.

'His Grace would likely bury this discovery rather than exploit it. With the succession battle already underway, he wouldn't risk introducing something so volatile into the equation. If anything, the one who inherits this power will be whoever becomes the next head of House Hern.'

In other words, the moment this information was revealed, one of the Grand Duke's sons would obtain the means to control the fate of the world.

Raymond's expression darkened.

That was a terrifying thought.

The eldest, Tristan, was an unyielding aristocrat with a rigid, outdated view of the world. The second, Jordi, was a ruthless opportunist who discarded even his most loyal allies once they had outlived their usefulness.

The fourth, Joshua, had shown no signs of ambition or leadership, appearing utterly ordinary in every regard.

Would any of them use this power wisely?

No. If anything, they would abuse it.

'The world wouldn't change for the better—it'd only get worse.'

Raymond let out a bitter laugh.

And then, his gaze settled back on William.

The third son of House Hern. The enigma.

William had been the one to bring this knowledge to them in the first place.

Moments later, a shadow fell over the doorway.

BANG!

The door swung open violently, revealing an enraged Heide.

"Get out here this instant! I swear, I'll break your damn legs—"

The alchemist's furious shouts abruptly died in his throat when his gaze locked onto William.

William calmly set his teacup down, completely unbothered by the intrusion.

"We meet again. I trust you've been well?" he said smoothly.

"W-Wait, Lord William? What are you doing here?" Heide stammered, visibly startled.

"I came looking for someone knowledgeable about Moonlight Grass. Turns out the largest buyer happens to be you."

"The Moonlight Grass!"

Heide's expression twisted, the veins in his forehead bulging as the realization hit.

So this was where his money had gone.

"That ungrateful little bastard..."

"Calm yourself," William said evenly. "What exactly happened to make you so furious?"

"This is a personal matter," Heide growled. "No need for you to concern yourself, Lord William. If you insist, I'll explain later—"

"I'd rather hear it now."

Clink.

The sharp sound of William setting his teacup down cut through the air like a blade.

Heide flinched.

For a brief moment, he had forgotten exactly who he was standing in front of.

Swallowing hard, he hesitated before finally speaking.

"It's because of my so-called apprentice," Heide muttered, his tone laced with barely restrained fury. "That wretched orphan, Ian. I took him in out of the goodness of my heart, fed him, sheltered him, taught him alchemy—and how does he repay me? By stealing from me."

"Interesting," William mused. "Now that you mention it, there was a boy who answered the door when we arrived."

"That was him," Heide confirmed. "He manages the house when I'm away. But I recently discovered that he's been siphoning my research funds for his own use."

A sharp grinding sound filled the room as Heide clenched his teeth hard enough to make his jaw creak.

It was clear that what truly enraged him wasn't the betrayal itself, but rather what had been stolen—his leisure funds.