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Badboyhalo knew that as the leader of the Badlands he should’ve kept himself safe from the war that stood on his border. He knew for sure that the King of Meard certainly wouldn’t fight in the war the two of them had declared on each other because of how Meard had stolen their gold.
Yet Bad stood on the battlefield, and cringed every time someone died. He hated his powers, he always had. Sure it had been nice to call up his late mother to ask for advice for running a country when she had suddenly passed away four years ago, when Bad was only 16, but other than that Bad simply didn’t use them. It didn’t feel right.
So instead he fought against the troops himself, wishing that the war would end before too many died but promising that he wouldn’t leave the field until it did or he died. He had started this war, he forced his country through it, he had to fight in it. He felt bad enough about the war against the Antarctic that his mother had started before he was in charge. He had ended it when his mother had died, the two kingdoms writing a peace agreement which had forced a piece of his country to go to the Antarctic. Bad didn’t mind at the time, he had been grieving.
Now it didn’t matter, because this war was Bad’s and not his mother’s. He was the one who risked the life of hundreds of his own people. He felt even worse when he had to ask for anyone who was fit to fight to join.
Ant or Sam fought bravely next to Bad, both of them were meant to keep the king safe, but Bad wasn’t too bad of a fighter himself either. Ant would make sure that their enemies had the worst luck of their lives while Sam simply fought them off while joking about being the only one out of them who wasn’t a demigod.
Bad was grateful for both of them, happy that they seemed to let him be there despite all of them knowing that he should be in the castle. He didn’t have an heir, so the next in command was probably Sam, but Sam was also out there with them, risking his own life.
It was possible that the Kingdom would stand without a ruler soon, and Bad knew that it would be the worst thing he could possibly let happen as a King. A kingdom without it’s ruler was simply a land that anyone could steal, but that wouldn’t really be Bad’s problem if he died.
Bad hated the battlefield, hated feeling people die and hated the feeling of walking past a place where slaughters like this had happened. Yet he felt like it was his duty to do so, as the King. So he stayed, and he fought. He did what any noble king would do, and stood up for his people.