Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Aizen's explanation did not end there.

"Your Highness is not only gifted in potential. Even if another knight were to reach the same level, your body's purity would set you apart. The effect of magical enhancement will be significantly greater for you. You will be able to use more mana, with far higher efficiency and purity."

"Are you saying that even against knights of the same level, I will have an advantage?"

"In the beginning, it will be a slight edge. But as time passes, you will grow strong enough to face two knights of the same rank at once. And eventually, you may even stand on equal footing against those of a higher realm."

William swallowed dryly.

When he had set his sights on learning the Lionheart Sword, his ambitions had not been so grand.

All he had wanted was to step into the realm of true mastery—one he had never reached in his past life.

That alone would have been enough to earn recognition from the world.

Besides, he had always understood that he could not devote himself solely to the sword. If he was to prepare for the future, he needed to focus on more than just martial prowess.

But now, Aizen was telling him that he could aspire not just to mastery, but to the title of Sword Saint—perhaps even beyond that.

"I want to see it."

Before ambition, before strategy—as a swordsman, his heart pounded with excitement.

But at the same time, something Aizen had said earlier weighed on his mind.

"You mentioned that I should give up my claim as heir. Why? Is it impossible to balance swordsmanship with my duties as a successor?"

"Well..."

Aizen hesitated, his words trailing off.

William remained silent, waiting.

Finally, Aizen let out a deep sigh.

"Your Highness, look at me."

"Excuse me?"

"Look at my face. What do you see?"

The old knight ran a hand over his face as he spoke.

It was an abrupt question, and William frowned slightly, unsure of what Aizen meant.

What was he supposed to see? Other than wrinkles, there was nothing particularly striking.

And then—

"Ah."

"I see you've realized."

Aizen let out a wry chuckle at William's reaction.

"I am old, Your Highness. Energy circulation has kept my body in good condition, but... I can feel it. My time is running short."

It was true.

In William's past life, Aizen the Sword Saint had died eight years from now.

At the age of over a hundred, he had passed peacefully—without suffering from illness or injury.

A good death, by all accounts.

But eight years was far too short a time to train a successor to the level of a Sword Saint.

The higher the peak, the longer it took to climb.

Aizen, as a Sword Saint, must have accumulated a lifetime of knowledge—an entire mountain of techniques to pass down.

Even if he dedicated every waking moment to instructing William, even if they forsook rest and trained relentlessly, there was no guarantee that all of it could be passed on in time.

And that wasn't even considering the countless moments where a disciple might hit a wall, struggling for weeks or months to break through a bottleneck.

"I do not have enough time to pass everything down. If I must divide that time further, competing against the other heirs, it becomes outright impossible."

"I understand what you mean."

William closed his eyes briefly, deep in thought.

The next Sword Saint…

It was undeniably tempting.

If the world were to remain peaceful forever, he would have cast aside the struggle for succession without hesitation, dedicating himself entirely to the sword.

Why spend decades competing with other heirs when he could instead become the sole inheritor of a Sword Saint's legacy?

But there was a problem.

"The world is descending into chaos."

William had seen it happen.

The Emperor's authority would crumble, and powerful warlords would rise, proclaiming themselves kings.

Figures like Hugo—men who relied on nothing but raw strength, without legitimacy—would flood the land.

But those who lacked rightful claim to power were despised as usurpers, constantly challenged by rivals and enemies.

It was simple.

Even in murder, there was a world of difference between avenging one's parents and killing for no reason.

Those who seized power without legitimacy soon found themselves beset on all sides, facing a never-ending stream of challengers.

A ruler without rightful claim was a ruler who could be overthrown just as easily.

"Betrayal and assassinations became daily occurrences. Power balances shifted overnight."

The few who truly stabilized their domains were those who had both power and legitimacy.

That was when William had learned—without legitimacy, power alone could never last.

If he was to prepare for the approaching storm, securing legitimacy was essential.

And now, Aizen was suggesting that he cast it aside?

To officially renounce his claim as heir to House Hern—one of the most prestigious bloodlines in the empire?

To discard the name that connected him to both the Hern family and the imperial line?

"Absolutely not."

Becoming a Sword Saint was tempting, yes.

But the price was far too steep.

No matter how much it pained him, Aizen's offer was not an option.

"I'm sorry," William said, his voice firm. "I cannot accept. I will remain as Hern."

"...Ah."

Aizen exhaled slowly, as if letting go of something.

Regret and sorrow filled his gaze.

"I see. Then there is nothing more to say. Perhaps my greed has clouded my judgment."

"I appreciate the offer, truly. It was an honor to even be considered."

"No, there is no need to apologize. If anything, the fault is mine. I forced a choice upon you that I had no right to demand."

Aizen let out a quiet laugh, though there was little mirth in it.

"I suppose, if given enough time, you could challenge the title of Sword Saint on your own. But I wished to see it happen with my own hands. I was selfish."

"...."