Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Chapter 68 68 Terror in the Yellow Forest

68 Terror in the Yellow Forest

Tristan was saying that William's single life was worth more than those three to four hundred innocent people.

But in his past life, William had always been one of those disposable lives.

Suppressing his anger, William met Tristan's gaze directly and spoke in a firm, unwavering voice.

"Apologies, but I can't accept that. I'm going."

"Are you going to invoke the duty of a noble?" Tristan sneered.

"No. I don't care about noble duties."

William took a deep breath and, for the first time since his rebirth, spoke the words he had long held in his heart.

Words formed not from a noble's perspective, but from that of an ordinary man.

"If you can't protect those who serve you, then you have no right to rule them."

Tristan's face twisted in shock.

William's words had struck at the very foundation of aristocratic ideology.

Tristan clenched his teeth and glared at William, his voice rising with barely contained fury.

"You've read too many hero stories! You're so lost in self-righteous delusions that you've completely abandoned reality! Are you seriously suggesting we gamble with the fate of the family based on your ridiculous sense of morality?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting," William replied without hesitation.

"...What?"

Tristan's breath caught in his throat.

"Brother, you're pathetic."

The single, cutting remark left Tristan momentarily speechless.

There would be no legal repercussions for his decision. It wouldn't tarnish his standing as a successor candidate. It wouldn't even cause any real damage to his authority.

And yet...

It was nothing more than a subjective distinction of dignity and disgrace imposed by his foolish younger brother.

That was all it was.

And yet, that single remark—so meaningless, so inconsequential—burned his pride to cinders.

"You dare—!"

The robed man, Jude, spoke first, his voice laced with unsettling amusement.

"Ahh, this is nice. It's been a while since I felt so saturated with mana. The fools in the Imperial Liberation Army are more useful than I expected."

"Imperial Liberation Army," the younger mage, Colin, corrected. "Not Imperial Army. There's a big difference."

"Who cares what the sponsors call themselves?" Jude chuckled. "You young mages always fuss over meaningless details. Or is that an Astromancy school thing? Always peering at the stars and fretting over every little point of light?"

Colin suppressed a shiver.

Jude's laughter alone made his skin crawl, as if the sound itself were seeping into his flesh.

So this is what a dark mage feels like in person.

Colin had heard plenty of stories, but none of them had prepared him for the sheer wrongness emanating from the man beside him.

He had first met Jude through an introduction from the Imperial Liberation Army.

At the time, he had been given no choice in the matter. The Liberation Army had been protecting him from the Empire's pursuit—he wasn't in a position to refuse them.

At first, he had thought it was just a temporary arrangement. A few weeks at most.

But then Jude had begun demanding live sacrifices.

Colin had no deep knowledge of the Beasthood school of magic, but even he knew that any magic requiring blood payment was unmistakably black magic.

At that point, he had confronted Jude directly.

"You... You're a dark mage, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you're just... admitting it?"

"Of course. Does my honesty surprise you?"

Jude hadn't even attempted to deny it. He had laughed and admitted it outright, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Now that you know, what will you do? Tell them about me?"

"Of course I will! Even if the Empire is after me, working with a dark mage—!"

"That would be troublesome," Jude had mused, his voice utterly calm. "That means I'd have to kill you before you could tell anyone."

"W-What!?"

"It's only practical. If the others found out, they'd turn on me first. And considering your combat skills, well..."

The moment Jude had raised his hand, crimson mana pooling in his palm, Colin had known he was one word away from death.