Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Chapter 99 99 A Stolen Triumph

99 A Stolen Triumph

"L-Lord Dominic!"

"The Count has fallen!"

The moment Dominic's severed head was raised for all to see, his remaining forces collapsed into chaos.

An army without a commander was no army at all.

His men, who had followed him with such confidence, now found themselves victims of the very same strategy he had tried to employ.

"Crush them!"

William's command rang out like a war drum, and his thousand elite knights surged forward, trampling the remnants of the reserve unit beneath them.

Already outnumbered, already shaken—the enemy line shattered in an instant.

As the last of the reserve troops were cut down, William tossed Dominic's head to Gerard.

"Sir Gerard! Mount this on a spear and make sure everyone sees it!"

"At once, my lord!"

Gerard swiftly ordered a nearby soldier to hoist the grim trophy high, its presence casting a shadow over the battlefield.

And then—

Fear took hold.

The Krefeld troops, who had already begun to waver at the sight of Hern's reinforcements, now watched in horror as their commander's head swayed in the wind.

"L-Lord Dominic...! H-His head—!"

Their spirits, already battered, crumbled into dust.

They faltered.

They hesitated.

And in that hesitation, the Hern knights slammed into their exposed flank.

"Cut them down! Drive them from the field!"

"Run! Run if you want to live!"

"You fools! Hold the line! Hold—!"

Panic spread like wildfire.

The lower-ranking officers tried to restore order, but it was already too late.

The moment they hesitated, their troops abandoned discipline entirely, each man thinking only of his own survival.

Some turned to flee.

Some froze in place, paralyzed with indecision.

And those who tried to rally the others?

They were the first to die.

William moved through the fray like a storm.

Each time a captain or officer tried to reassert control, he rode them down.

His sword flashed.

His enemies fell.

The battlefield, once a contest of strength, had become a one-sided slaughter.

"No survivors!"

"They broke the Accord first—show them no mercy!"

"Remember my name! I am Hugo! Remember me as you die!"

The coalition forces, driven by anger and vengeance, cut through the fleeing enemy like scythes through wheat.

Victory was certain.

And amid the triumphant bloodshed, Cedric arrived before the First Prince.

"Brother!" he called, dismounting and dropping to one knee. "We have come to your aid! Are you unharmed?"

He had made no claim.

He had done nothing but act in his brother's interest.

A perfect illusion.

William had won military glory.

And Cedric?

Cedric had cemented himself as the only man truly capable of governing.

He will get the fame.

I will get the power.

The thought was intoxicating.

But just as he was about to solidify that image further—

"What wisdom!"

A voice rang out.

Loud. Booming.

Marquis Bernhardt, his face smeared with blood, suddenly burst into laughter.

"Truly, His Highness the First Prince has foresight beyond our understanding!"

The nobles blinked.

"What?"

"What are you saying, Marquis?"

"Think, my lords!" Bernhardt cried, gesturing dramatically. "Would His Highness Cedric, ever so loyal, truly disobey an order?"

A pause.

The realization settled in.

"Surely not...!"

"Exactly!" Bernhardt declared. "This was all according to His Highness the First Prince's plan!"

Cedric's eyes widened.

He clenched his teeth.

That damned old fox...!

"It is all clear now!" Bernhardt pressed on. "From the beginning, His Highness allowed Cedric to appear as if he had been sent away, so that should any spies be watching, they would not suspect this masterstroke!"

He turned to Claude.

"Brilliant, Your Highness!"

Claude, still too dazed to fully process the situation, barely managed a nod.

"Y-Yes!" he blurted out. "That is exactly it!"

Cedric barely kept his composure.

The fool.

The absolute fool!

Claude's panic had allowed Bernhardt to seize control of the narrative.

The noble factions, who had only moments ago been reconsidering their loyalties, were now forced to backtrack.

Bernhardt had ensured that Cedric's success would not be his alone.

It would belong to Claude.

Damn you, Bernhardt...!

Cedric met the old marquis's gaze.

Bernhardt smiled back, his sharp, knowing eyes filled with unspoken words.

I will not let you take the throne.

Cedric swallowed his rage, forcing himself to bow.

"Of course, brother. As expected of you."