BBYW Vol. 2 Chapter 37 (WN)

Chapter 37 – The Cornered Creep

“W-Where should I run to now!?”

In the Second Imperial Army encampment, the Second Imperial Prince — Grett Baal was scurrying left and right.

The reason why he was still in his army’s camp, without running away…was certainly not because he was resolved to face the First Imperial Army or the Maxwell forces head-on. But the simple fact that fighting had broken out all around the camp, leaving no room for escape.

“Your Highness, please calm down! Our defeat hasn’t been decided yet! If we exert all our powers, we can easily crush those Maxwell peons, and…”

“You absolute fool! The First Imperial Army turned against us and for some reason the Imperial Knights won’t come to our aid! How can we hope to fight, isolated as we are?”

All hopes for an imperial victory at Fort Bryden were already gone. Grett did not consider fighting to be an option anymore and focused only on how to escape.

Aside from his humanity — or lack thereof —, Grett Baal was a fairly shrewd politician. How he quickly gave up on fighting the northern nomads and built the great wall instead, or his ability in making many imperial nobles and merchants his allies, proved that he was a worthy candidate for the throne.

His skills as military commander, however, were the opposite. Unlike Lars Baal, he had received little to no martial training and was now experiencing an enemy attack up close for the first time ever.

Thrown into utter disarray by this new experience, Grett had lost what little ability he had to lead his troops.

“The Maxwell forces are right outside our camp!! We urgently require orders, Your Highness!!”

“E-Eeek!? W-What!? I don’t know!! I don’t know anything!! Do something about it yourselves!!”

“Gh…! Men, we must stop them!!”

The Second Imperial Army knight quickly realized Grett had become completely useless and started giving orders to the troops.

“I-I’m not supposed to die in a place like this…how could something superior like me die…in such a stupid way…?”

Grett held his head in his hands, his whole body shaking violently.

It wasn’t supposed to go like that.

The massive imperial allied army should have crushed Fort Bryden, and in the meantime he’d have found an opening to kill Lars. Afterwards, he would have traded the fort with Rossellia and returned to the empire in triumph. With his one rival gone, the throne was his for the taking: Grett was going to be the emperor, with the most beautiful woman in the world as his empress.

That was the vision he had painted in his mind. A future now completely shattered, with the blade of death pointed at his throat instead.

(There has to be a way to turn this situation…yes!!)

Grett raised his head, as if he had received a divine revelation.

“I will return to my tent for the time being. You stay here and contain the Maxwell forces, as long as possible.”

“B-But, sire…”

“Was I not clear enough? Hold them off until your last breath. You are not allowed to retreat or surrender. Now then…”

Grett said what he wanted and immediately entered his tent, without waiting for a reply. The army’s commander was thus gone, leaving the knights completely baffled.

“What…are we supposed to do now…?”

The soldiers looked at the vice commander, perplexed. With Grett gone, he was now the army’s impromptu supreme officer.

“…whatever you want. If you have loyalty to honor, go out and fight. If you have someone waiting for you back home, run away. You won’t be punished, just go!”

“Y-Yes Sir!!”

In the end, only one third of the total forces remained. The Second Imperial Army, now decisively smaller in numbers, readied their weapons to fight the Maxwell army.

“…I really picked the wrong person to serve. A couple skirmishes and I’ll surrender.”

The vice commander let out a long sigh and tightened the grip on his spear.

“Yes, this is it!”

Back in his tent, Grett Baal fervently rummaged through his luggage, eventually finding what he was looking for: a palm-sized purple crystal sphere, a magic tool he had paid a hefty price for.

“Hahaha! I am fated to survive, after all! The gods have extended a helping hand to save me from danger!”

Special individuals possess special fates: Grett, who was born as imperial prince and had lived a very special life, firmly believed in those words.

As someone chosen by fate, he wouldn’t fall in such a pitiful place. No matter the danger or calamity, he would surely survive in the end.

“You better remember this day, Dyngir Maxwell!! I shall have the pleasure of destroying you in our next battle. Until then, Rossellia…”

“You looking for me, Mr. Second Prince?”


Someone had called his name out of the blue. Grett turned around and shrieked.

“W-W-W-Who in blazes are you!? A Maxwell soldier!?”

“Nope…I’m not a soldier, nor a knight…but Maxwell himself.”

“T-This can’t be…!!”

Grett Baal turned pale as a sheet. The man drew his sword and pointed it at the prince.

“Dyngir Maxwell, at your service. For the little time you have left, at least.”

Looking at the cornered enemy commander, the man…*I* introduced myself.

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