BBYW Vol. 2 Chapter 2 (WN)
CHAPTER 2 – Every Country has its Bastards
【POV: Grett Baal, second prince of the Baal empire】
“It’s amazing, really. I’m surrounded by imbeciles.”
After the round table conference, I walked down the court’s corridor, recalling the discussions and my idiotic brothers.
My elder brother, Lars Baal, is loved and respected by some for his honest personality, but can never become merciless when it’s truly necessary: as a result, he is collecting failure after failure.
My younger brother, Cerros Baal, puts up the pacifist act, but is just a coward, always running away from any decision.
Neither of them is fitting as the supreme leader of our glorious empire. The only one who can become the conqueror and unifier of this continent is naturally me.
“Indeed, indeed, Prince Grett!”
Saim Fulcas, one of my retainers, nods in agreement while stroking his prized white mustache.
There are two kinds of people in this world: fools that can prove useful and fools that can’t. This old man is one of the few fools I recognize as the first type.
“Though he may be your older brother, I find it simply appalling to even think that such a man could ever stand above you, M’lord! Please ascend to the throne soon, to build our empire in the heaven on earth it deserves to be!”
“Naturally…but for that to happen, Lars needs to be taken care of soon…”
There are two paths for me to ascend to the throne.
The first is to fulfill father’s will and conquer one enemy country. The other is for the other possible successors to the throne, especially the firstborn Lars, to die.
The first path has already proven to be impossible, so I have given up on it.
The enemy country I was assigned to destroy was the land of nomad tribes of the north, the Samel.
Those nomads, however, do not have fixed cities, nor does their “country” have real borders: the several tribes that make up the Samel live while traveling across the northern plains.
Just when you think a tribe has been defeated, another one comes invading. As soon as we have one tribe surrounded and driven to annihilation, another one strikes from the rear.
Their horsemanship skills also give them extremely high mobility: my troops were dragged into the nomads’ guerrilla warfare and forced to taste defeat one too many times.
No matter how much talent and genius I might have, to completely defeat the Salem nomads with only the troops assigned to my command, the Second Imperial Army, was simply unfeasible.
Having quickly reached this conclusion, I have put my domain under special taxation and built a 1000km long wall along the northern borders of the empire, in order to stop the Samels’ incursions.
(Which led to civil riots…I just can’t understand how idiots think.)
Thanks to the wall, the people living in the northern areas do not need to fear the Samels’ raids anymore. Yet they fail to understand such a simple concept and riot instead, irritating me to no end.
“Thanks to the wall, the fruit of our efforts and toil, we only need a minimum amount of troops to defend the border. Now we would have enough manpower to take down Lars, but…”
“The remaining issue is Prince Cerros, yes?”
Lars’ troops, the First Imperial Army, went and failed on their own, getting weaker every time. My Second Imperial Army could crush them with ease now.
Doing that, however, would mean transgressing my father’s will and bearing the name of a traitor. Thus giving Cerros just cause to strike me down.
(Even if he himself is a spineless wimp, the Third Imperial Army is mostly unscathed…I cannot overlook that.)
It would be ideal if Lars attacked me instead, so I would have just cause to kill my idiot of a brother…
As I walked down the corridors, contemplating such thoughts, I arrived at the flower field built in a corner of the court. There, I saw—
“Ah! Rossellia!”
“…Lord Brother Grett.”
There, I saw an angel. I left Fulcas behind and ran up to her heavenly presence.
Golden locks flowing down to the waist adorned the figure of the heavenly maiden. Her name was Rossellia Baal: the late emperor’s fourth-born child and only daughter. The imperial princess Rossellia turned 18 years old this year.
In this godless world, ravaged by the flames of war, Rossellia’s beauty alone testified that, indeed, god existed.
“Ooh, Rossellia, my beloved sister! Picking flowers, are you? As beautiful and dazzling as ever!”
“…thank you, Lord Brother. Is the conference already over?”
Rossellia frowned, despite my showering praise. Even if clouded, however, the beauty in her expression was spotless: I felt my chest thunder with excitement.
(Aah, my adored sister…! I shall be the one to remove all your pains and anxieties! I shall conquer this whole continent, and present it all to you!)
I viewed all those around me as lacking and inferior — but Rossellia was an exception. This maiden, god’s magnum opus, was the most precious treasure this world ever saw.
“Yes, yes, it’s over…though I tell you, both Lars and Cerros are such imbeciles, it was almost pointless to hold it in the first place! As expected, I have no choice but to become emperor! And when I do…I shall take the world’s most beautiful female as my empress!”
“Is that so? She will be truly fortunate, then. I shall celebrate your union too.”
“Indeed, indeed she will! I will make her the most fortunate woman in the whole world!”
I intended my words to be an indirect proposal, but Rossellia did not seem to notice. This slightly dense side of hers was so adorable too!
“Rossellia, do you happen to have a bit of time now? I would love to share a cup of tea and…”
“My deepest apologies, Lord Brother, but I must head to my dance lessons.”
“ But, s-surely you could postpone them to another time…”
I squeezed out every last drop of courage in this invitation, yet it was flatly rejected. I eked out a protest, but…
“Every lesson is necessary for me to become a good wife for the wonderful man that will one day receive me. Please forgive me.”
“I see! It would be uncouth of me to get in the way of your bridal training! Go on, do your best!”
“…if you will excuse me.”
Rossellia left, accompanied by her maids.
As she walked away, I religiously observed her back, her waist, wrapped in her dress and cascading golden hair, the pure white ankles peeking from her shoes.
“Er, ehm…Prince Grett?”
“Silence, please! I am burning Rossellia’s image in my memory!”
I slammed down Fulcas’ awkward call for attention and delved into this moment spent with Rossellia.
Graceful blonde hair, blue eyes, pearly white skin, a voice like a melodious chirp, a scent of flowers. I impressed them all in my mind, in my treasure chest of memories never to forget.
After reliving this moment of bliss for a good ten minutes, I finally looked at Fulcas’ face.
(…hideous.)
After seeing Rossellia, the old man’s features appeared even more disgusting. I couldn’t help but let the irritation leak into my tone of voice.
“…you were still here? What do you want?”
“Ah…er…my humblest apologies. One of the merchants at Your Highness’ service has sent a gift, so I thought I should inform you…”
“A gift?”
“Yes, a beautiful doll, apparently.”
“My! Have it sent to my chambers!”
I barked the order to Fulcas, then briskly headed over to my room. Soon enough, someone knocked: Fulcas had brought the “gift”.
“Please enjoy yourself to your heart’s content, M’lord.”
“Oh my, oh my, what wonderfully crafted dolls!”
“Ah…”
The mustachioed old man had brought three young girls into the room. They were all around 12 years old and had long blonde hair.
“Hmm, yes, the best dolls are blonde, after all…”
“Hk…!!”
I drew the girls closer and pressed my lips on their golden locks. They probably applied some perfume, as a whiff of flowers tickled my nostrils.
“Haha…Rossellia…my Rossellia…just you watch, my dear, one day you will be my empress…”
“Eep…”
“No…”
I tossed away the girls’ clothes and ran my hands all over their body, as tiny moans escaped their lips. I savored their teary voices, my thoughts running to my beloved sister.
(Aah, Rossellia…I wonder, what voice will you moan with…?)
The emperor’s throne and your body are mines for the taking.
And I will kill anyone who dares get in my way…