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Early BBYW Vol. 4 Chapter 63 (WN)
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 14:39:29 +0000 UTCFull title: I’m a Bastard But You’re Worse!
Note: This chapter has not been TLCed yet, and might slightly differ from the public version. If you found any typos/mistakes, pls write them in the comment. Thanks.
Translator: Dario
Note 2: This is the web novel version
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Chapter 63 - An Escape Route Called Hell
The “Terror Armies” plaguing the ailing western province was neutralized.
The defeat of the evil deity and destruction of “Hades” turned all of the undead invaders into sand.
House Sphinx was planning to send a scouting platoon to the “Undead Capital”, so eventually the treasures left in the ruins were going to be collected as well.
There were going to be more than enough funds to restore House Sphinx to its prime, as well as rebuild the towns and villages ravaged by the mummy horde.
The people who took refuge away from their homes were slowly returning: step by step, the restoration of the western province was proceeding.
However, there were those who could not find peace in such solace.
“Damn it!! Why is this happening!!”
In a mansion on the outskirts of a small town to the east of the capital of Thebes, a nobleman of the western province — Nahib Massab was twisting his facial expression almost beyond recognition, while also wildly scratching his scalp. Hair scattered from a head that had grown rather deserted in the last few years, but Nahib was nowhere composed enough to pay it any mind.
“What can I do? What should I do? How am I supposed to get out of this!?”
In the residence he used as a secret hideout, Nahib was desperately looking for a way out of his situation.
Thanks to Dyngir Maxwell’s efforts, House Sphinx had managed to take back Fort Giza. There were also reports, albeit unconfirmed, that the other undead who had crossed the border had turned into sand. The western province had overcome the threat of the “Terror Armies”, and was already on the path of restoration.
Having regained its peace, House Sphinx would soon start questioning the native nobles who had been uncooperative before the battle, just like Nahib’s House Massab.
Such an investigation might reveal that Nahib had plotted with nobles of the central province to assassinate Valon Sphinx and let the “Terror Armies” inside the western province.
“This is bad…really bad…!! Jaar, you blasted fool, you haven’t ratted out on me, have you…!?”
Jaar Menfis, Nahib’s spy in House Sphinx, had been reported dead at Fort Giza.
He had been ordered to kill Dyngir Maxwell, so it was highly likely that he fell at the hands of his target.
Nahib had also lost contact with the assassins he sent to murder Vert Sphinx and his daughter, a clear sign that they had failed.
“A-Anyway!! I have to get rid of any evidence leading to me…then hide somewhere safe for a while, and think of a plan…!!”
Nahib had been renting this residence since one month ago, and it was only a matter of time until someone from House Sphinx found out. He packed the documents proof of his deal with the central nobles and all valuables he could find in a suitcase and left the residence via the rear entrance.
The clock had just ticked past midnight: the small countryside town was completely quiet, with barely a soul in sight.
“Viscount Massab is recovering from a grave illness and cannot see anyone at present…yes, yes, let’s go with that. I’ll go hide somewhere close to the capital…if I’m that close to the central nobles, they won’t be able to get their hands on me so easily!”
“And then? What are you going to do after that?”
“Hmm, I suppose I’ll send money to my collaborators in the central province, have them appease House Sphinx for me. They must have weakened during this ordeal, so they shouldn’t be able to come off too strongly…eh!?”
Nahib spontaneously answered the sudden question, but eventually stopped in his tracks, biting his lip.
“If you want to escape so much, I have the perfect destination for you. It’s hell, how about it?”
“Y-Y-Y-You are…!?!”
Nahib turned towards the voice, his head moving like a gear that hadn’t been oiled for a while.
Leaning against a tree near the rear entrance was a young man, a single sword hanging from his waist, his right hand on the handle.
The young man exposed his canines with a grin. His eyes, targeting Nahib as a predator does prey, sent chills down the spine of the wannabe fugitive.
“I suppose I might as well introduce myself. My name is Dyngir Maxwell. It’s a pleasure to meet you…for the first, and last time.”
“Bghwuah!?”
Someone appeared behind Nahib, and the man slumped on the ground.
The leader of the native nobles suddenly found his lips kissing the ground: he somehow managed to look up, despite the terror in his heart, at Dyngir Maxwell’s face.
