BBYW Vol. 1 Interlude 10

Interlude 10 – Meanwhile, on the Battlefield

On the main battlefield, the two armies were standing by, observing each other.

On one side, the attackers: the first division of the Baal empire army, which attempted to invade the kingdom of Lamperouge as a step towards the empire’s goal of conquest of the whole continent.

On the other side, the defenders: the forces of the eastern province, led by Margrave Maxwell, gathered to protect the borders of the kingdom.

In the Maxwell forces’ camp, margrave Dietrich Maxwell was terribly restless.

“This is bizarre. What in blazes are they planning?”

Half a day had already passed since the battle began. Neither army, however, had suffered any significant casualties yet.

The reason was that the invaders, the imperial forces, were staying on the defensive for whatever reason.

As the eastern province forces were smaller in number, they could not attack from their own side: thus the two armies ended up in the current stalemate situation.

“Are they trying to lure us into a trap? No, this is Maxwell territory after all, and there was no sign they were building traps. What are they waiting for, then…?”

Something terrible was happening without his knowledge. Such an ominous hunch turned Dietrich’s expression bitter.

“Efreeta, send someone to scout the surroundings. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Immediately, my Lord.”

Viscount Efreeta nodded and left the camp, accompanied by a few of his men.

Dietrich looked at his retainers leave, then glared at the disturbingly immobile enemy camp.

“Empire dogs…I don’t know what you are plotting, but you will not have your way!”

“My lord! I bear shocking news!”

“What happened!?”

Viscount Efreeta, who was supposed to go scout the surroundings, had already come back.

His expression was clearly shaken: Dietrich realized that his hunch had been correct.

“The empire troops moved, right!?”

“Er, no, actually…”

Viscount Efreeta’s next words, however, were completely unexpected.

“It seems that the young master…Lord Dyngir…”


Dietrich’s body arched backwards in surprise at the unexpected mention of his son’s name.


On the other side of the battlefield, the imperial forces were restless as well.

Inside the headquarters tent of the imperial camp, the first imperial prince, Lars Baal, was shouting angrily.

“What happened!? When is Zagann coming!?”

The barely 20 years old prince, sitting on his chair, threw the cup he was holding to the ground, shattering it.

The wine in the glass spilled on his subordinates, but he continued shouting regardless.

“This is why I was against the plan!! If we attacked from the front, without cheap tricks…! We wouldn’t have to face Maxwell without our strongest general, like now!!”

“…my deepest apologies.”

The left side of the Twin Wings, Eis Halphas, bowed his head without making excuses.

(What happened to you, general Bjorc…? Please be safe and sound…)

Halphas felt restless too in his own way.

His brother in arms failed to appear, despite the expected time being past. His usual calm and collected demeanor now showed signs of worry.

Prince Lars stood up, brimming with indignation, his golden hair waving in the air.

“Our only possible course of action now is to annihilate Maxwell ourselves!! All troops, prepare to charge!!”

“P-please wait, Your Highness! That is too dangerous!!”

Hasphal hurriedly tried to stop the prince.

The imperial forces had greater numbers, but each of the Maxwell soldiers were of much higher quality. Facing them upfront was a risky bet.

“Silence!! Who caused this situation in the first place!?”


Halphas pressed further, but Lars struck him with his fist. The splendid tactician was thrown against the tent, ripping the fabric as he fell to the ground.

“What good is standing around like this!? Maxwell could come attacking at any time!! The advantage obviously goes to who moves first!!”

“B-but Your Highness…please, let us wait a little more time for general Bjorc to…”


Prince Lars disregarded his loyal vassal’s words and stomped out of the tent.

An imperial soldier, however, approached the young prince.

“Your Highness!! Soldiers apparently belonging to the margrave’s forces are heading this way!”

“Kh, so they moved after all! How many are there!?”

“T-they are…”

The soldier hesitated at first, then clearly answered his lord’s question.

“They are…only three.”

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