Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

It wasn't enough to ruin him completely, but it did strip away nearly all his liquid assets.

He was left seething.

Twice—twice now, he had lost to William.

And as he paid the final sum and reclaimed Jenny, he left behind one final warning.

"You're enjoying yourself now, aren't you?" His voice was sharp, laced with venom. "Go ahead. Savor your little victory. Because soon enough, you'll be shedding tears of blood."

William chuckled, completely unfazed.

"Shouldn't you focus on recovering first?" he quipped. "Keep flailing like this, and you'll end up losing more than just money next time."

Jordi's jaw clenched, but he refused to give William the satisfaction of seeing him falter again.

He turned on his heel and left.

For now.

But the matter did not end there.

Whispers spread like wildfire throughout the household.

- "Did you hear? The second young master's wet nurse was whipped half to death!"

- "And instead of retaliating, Lord Jordi paid a ransom for her!"

- "It's been a whole week, and he still hasn't dared to strike back!"

Everywhere, people were talking.

The confrontation with Hendrick had been one thing—a verbal clash, a simple exchange of words.

It had been something both sides could step back from without permanent damage.

But this?

This was a full-blown war.

Jordi had directly interfered with William's finances, and William had responded by punishing his closest confidante.

There was no retreating from this battle.

For the first time, people realized—Jordi had lost.

To William.

To the "timid fawn" of the Hern family.

No one had expected this.

- "Did the third young master really wield the whip himself?"

- "That's what they say. He beat her so badly her back was covered in blood."

- "Hard to believe. He used to be too soft to even kill a fly…"

- "Shhh! Are you insane?! If the young master hears you, you'll end up like John and Brook!"

- "W-What happened to them?"

- "They ran their mouths too much and lost half their teeth. If you keep talking like this, you'll be next!"

The servants were the first to change.

Fear spread through the estate.

No one wanted to end up like Jenny—or worse, like the other two who had defied William's authority.

Their posture became more respectful. Their eyes no longer lingered on William with scorn.

And one by one, the nickname they had once used so freely—"Fawn Prince"—vanished from their lips.

Even Hans, who had once been indifferent to William, now regarded him with quiet caution.

The change wasn't limited to the servants, either.

Among the knights, murmurs about the succession began to stir.

- "The lion's cub will always grow into a lion."

- "It seems even the third young master carries the Hern blood after all."

- "What does this mean for the heirship?"

- "Doubtful. He's been away from the family for too long. No real achievements to speak of."

- "Perhaps. But the Duke's recent actions suggest he hasn't given up on him yet."

William had no faction to call his own.

Unlike his brothers, he had no powerful allies or supporters.

But this incident had planted a seed.

A seed that might one day grow into something formidable.

And for some, it presented an opportunity.

Most of the knights were already pledged to the other candidates.

But William?

William had nothing.

Which meant—if he continued to prove himself—there would be open positions at his side.

For those with ambition, a new contender in the heirship was not just chaos.

It was a chance.

A chance to rise alongside him.

Time would tell if William's momentum would continue.

And one week after the incident—A summons arrived.

Duke Sigmund Hern had called for William.

"Your Grace, I was told you called for me."

William stepped into the study, his posture straight and composed. The Grand Duke, seated behind a desk buried under stacks of documents, pushed them aside with a slow, deliberate motion. He remained silent for a moment, his expression shifting ever so slightly before he finally spoke.

"I hear you had quite the skirmish recently. You and Jordy are the talk of the estate."

It was difficult to tell whether his words carried reprimand or amusement.

William dipped his head slightly, offering a response that was more out of courtesy than actual humility.

"I wouldn't call it a grand affair. I merely disciplined a few servants who had forgotten their proper place."

"And in doing so, you've stained your brother's reputation. He won't let this go. Are you prepared for the consequences?"

"There is nothing to prepare for," William replied flatly.

"...What?"

"It was a matter of hierarchy, of enforcing order. If I were to hesitate out of fear of repercussions, I would bring disgrace to the name of Hern. I did only what was right to uphold our standing."

The Grand Duke let out a quiet huff, his lips barely suppressing an upward twitch. For a brief second, amusement flickered in his expression before he schooled it back into impassiveness.

Resting his chin on one hand, he seemed to mull something over before speaking again.

"Jordy won't let this go. He's always considered you a thorn in his side."

William remained silent. There was no need to state the obvious.

"He could have reached greater heights if not for that inferiority complex of his," the Grand Duke continued. "But instead, he's trapped by it, narrowing his vision and stunting his potential."

William's eyes sharpened at that remark. A piece of information surfaced in his mind—something he had uncovered after his reincarnation while investigating his own background.

Grimaldi.

His maternal lineage.

The Grimaldi Duchy had once been a powerful ruling family in the North, but its downfall had been long and steady. By the time William was born, the house had barely survived in name alone. They had neither wealth nor influence, and their bloodline had dwindled to a mere handful.

His maternal grandfather, the last patriarch of the Grimaldi line, had died without leaving a male heir. With no successor to carry on the name, the family had effectively ceased to exist.

Yet despite its ruin, the name Grimaldi still carried weight. Unlike the many noble houses that had sprung up after the Empire's unification, Grimaldi's legacy stretched back far beyond the establishment of the Empire itself. Once a royal family of the North, they had only been demoted to dukes after surrendering during the war.