I Became the First Prince: Legend of Sword's Song

Sing, Play, and Dance (2)

Adelia sliced her sword at the Orc and leapt at him. The monster barely parried the blade. She briefly looked back at me, her multi-hued hair hanging across her face like the fronds of ferns. Auras of different hues surrounded her. The first aura was the color of blood and represented her [War Mania]. The other had a carnal, greasy stench to it, it was a sign of [Butcher].

The Orc gave a groan as he sensed her power, his eyes starting to glow a fiery red.

“Oh, my God!” I shouted as I saw Adelia get ready for another attack, all her terrible traits activated at once. She was controlled by an intense frenzy, even if she was faced by the intense build-up of battle fervor that the Night Slayer exhibited. No sign of her usual weakness could be seen; she knew no hesitation as she utilized her newly learned skill. Time and time again, her golden sword clashed against the red energies of the Orc’s fervor. Suddenly, Adelia stumbled while dodging a swipe from the Orc, collapsing to the ground. The Night Slayer moved in, focused on her prone form and looking to land a killer blow.

His blade came within inches of her neck as another blocked its descent: My Uncle had entered the fray once more. The Orc roared fiercely at this interruption, punching at my Uncle with its free hand. My Uncle’s sword came up, cutting into the Orc’s fist. Mana and fervor clashed once more as the Orc and the older man released their energies. Where these magical discharges met one another, a brilliant flash erupted.

Adelia’s golden blade flashed once more, its frenzied slashes forcing the Orc to retreat a few paces. My Uncle did likewise.

“Where is your honor, warrior?” The Night Slayer spat at my Uncle. The sudden attack by two warriors at once had angered it greatly, but before it could say more, the black shadow of movement that was Adelia charged at it again. Mighty strikes that seemed impossible for one with such a small frame as she came on after the other, the beast being hard-pressed to parry this frenzied assault.

“What type of embarrassment is this?” He snarled when he got the chance. Being insulted by Orcs was in itself a compliment, yet Adelia paid no heed to this fact, for she could not. No, she was unaware of her actions, her surroundings, and everything else. She just swung her weapon at him time and again like a madwoman, and one of these flashes finally stabbed into the Orc. He roared like a rabid animal, more out of shame and embarrassment than any feeling of pain. The fact was clear: His [Open Eyes] were of no use against [Butcher], which led a warrior to chop and hack away at their foe as if they were just a piece of meat on a slab, frenzied slashes with no subtlety or art. So too the nature of [War Mania] was well suited to counter the Night Slayer, for a lunatic gave no heed to their own safety or anything else: When an insane human attacked you, all that flashed through their mind was to end your existence at any cost and by any means, by tooth and nail if need be.

This monster, who had so easily fended off the assault of a Sword Master, was struggling against a woman who was a mere Sword Expert.

The Night Slayer was visibly maddened by her attacks, sporting a few ugly wounds already, for he was not well-armored. With every second that she fought, she seemed more and more like a crazy dog. I was glad that I did not have to face her bark or her bite. My Uncle now stood next to me, both of us unable to aid Adelia due to the unpredictable strikes that she launched at the beast.

“What the hell is that kid doing?” he asked me, shocked at her display.

“Let’s just say that she might be a light warrior, but also a heavy hitter,” I responded. He looked at me, nodding his agreement at my appraisal.

“Let’s finish this together,” I said, raising Twilight. My Uncle had also recovered and summoned his power into his blade.

I could hear shouts of encouragement coming from the walls, for the men knew that the best way to kill an Orc was to do so as fast as possible. The Orc, having created some space between himself and Adelia, looked in our direction as it sensed our powers. There was desperation in its eyes, and I was sure that it was regretting its earlier arrogance and impatient attack. It gave a roar, swinging its sword in a wild arc that smashed into Adelia’s blade, the force hurtling her into my arms. I held her, despite her frantic attempts to once more charge at the beast. The Orc was readying all its battle fervor at once, its dark green body glowing red as the power suffused its entire being.

“Even if I never stand before my King again,” his voice rang across the castle walls. “I shall ensure his might will never be ephemeral!”

His eyes bore into Adelia as she still struggled in my grip. She stopped her struggling as her soul, bound by [Poetry of Subjugation], absorbed and negated the malice and murderous intent directed at me through the Orc’s fervor. I hugged her tightly as I looked at my Uncle for guidance. He nodded, and I released Adelia, who averted her eyes as she made her departure.

I now stood before the Night Slayer and decided to utter a poem of hatred at the vile beast.

“I piled up green carcasses, raising myself a mountain!

Red streams flowed from it, as bloody nails.

I honor our fallen before this mountain of mine!”

Karmic power flowed into Twilight as I once more recited the phrases. The hatred against the Orcs had festered in the hearts of the soldiery of Winter Castle for many winters, and the defense gained new spirit as the Rangers and infantry embraced this anger. It was then that a great force slammed into all of us, a force that felt as if it was reducing my existence to the point of nullity. It had been the energy of the Warlord, which had overwhelmed us. My soul had been almost crushed, the blue flames sputtering out upon my blade. The Orc looked stronger than ever, his spirits raised. The flame of Jinsou had been placed in great danger by this release of power from the Warlord. “Goddamn Orcs,” I swore under my breath as I gritted my teeth, wondering whether I would open a part of my soul to counter what had just occurred. A new voice rang out, the voice of my Uncle:

“I piled up green carcasses, raising myself a mountain!”

“Uncle?”

“Red streams flowed from it.”

He repeated the [Poetry of True Marriage] time and time again, his voice almost stuttering.

His four rings started to rotate, a strong resonance emitting from them. The strong wave of power from the Warlord still battered at my ears as if someone was pounding a gong inside my head. Yet, every time my Uncle spoke a verse, my heart regained a semblance of courage, his now eloquent voice sounding like a drum of war calling us to the march. Another voice now joined his:

“Red streams flowed from it, as bloody nails.”

It was from Vincent.

“I honor our fallen before this mountain of mine.”

Arwen’s voice joined Vincent’s. Then, the walls erupted in the verse of Muhunshi as the knights took up the poem.

“I piled up green carcasses, raising myself a mountain!

Red streams flowed from it, as bloody nails.

I honor our fallen before this mountain of mine!”

Hundreds of voices recited this as they faced their respective foes, their voices finally syncing up into a great roar of martial spirit. It felt now as if a great many drums were beating in my head all at once. Mana flowed freely through the air, and many rings had been activated. The energy I sensed made my breath come in short rasps, and my head feel dizzy. I suddenly knew what had to be done.

I felt every strand of mana in the air from every voice that sang my Muhunshi. I focused my spirit, gathered all these disparate strands into me, and united them when I recited the poem once more:

“I piled up green carcasses, raising myself a mountain! Red streams flowed from it. I honor our fallen before this mountain of mine!”

A new verse slipped from my tongue, coming unbidden:

“In the harshest season, we sing the bitterest songs.”

What I had created sounded different from Muhunshi, and very unlike the melodies that the elves sang in their sword dances. A message appeared then:

『You have created a new poem.』

『Its class is [Poetry of War], and it is the first of its kind.』

More verses escaped from my lips after I had seen this alert:

“Silent are the snowy mountain peaks and the blood-drenched walls.

Only our horns of war are heard, for a new day dawns into which we advance!”

This song swam around within my brain, like a fevered hallucination. The great drum kept pounding in my head as my heartbeat quickened. I took a step forward, singing the poem I had crafted softly under my breath. The flames that had deserted me once more made their power known. The Night Slayer was staring directly at me, the red fervor still glowing in his eyes. Slowly I advanced towards this beast, not a kernel of fear to be found within my breast. My Uncle, who had been ready to attack the Orc once more, could see that something within me had changed. He stepped back.

The Night Slayer tightened his two-handed grip upon the hilt of his sword, emitting a loud roar. He clearly was not going to back down from me. The roar did not sound as fierce to me as before. No, it sounded like the mewling of a frightened cub. He gave a yell, charging at me with his sword raised, the last of his battle fervor thrown toward me in a last desperate surge. I held my ground, thrusting Twilight sharply into the air as I released my own power. A blue spear of light sped from me, spreading through the air as it pierced through the Night Slayer’s heart.

The Orc stared stupidly at where my power had cleaved into him, staring at the empty hole where seconds ago his heart had still pumped his lifeblood through him.

“My king…” He managed to utter before blue flames spread from his wound, consuming him in a glorious blaze. It was at that moment that a great crashing sound reverberated through the courtyard as the gate of Winter Castle came crashing down. Ordered lines of infantry had filled the gap, Orcs already charging into the breach.

“Hook the thing and pull it back up! Hook it back up!” came the frantic orders from a siege-engineer, the entire left half of his body burned gruesomely by a mishap with a cauldron of burning oil. I calmly made my way to this breach in our defenses, soldiers respectfully making way for me as they sensed my newfound power. Orcs who had failed to gain our battlements were now pushing and shoving at each other, their eagerness to charge through the gate impeding their collective momentum. I now stood before the gathered ranks of defenders, raising my sword to the sky. Against a darkened sky and the snowy ground, the blue lighting that flowed from Twilight lit up the sky, as if in a mockery of dawn.

“Men, let us be ready!” My Uncle’s voice washed over the knights and infantrymen who stood behind me. None of them evinced the exhaustion that should by all rights have rendered them ineffective after so many hours of the brutal battle. Mana still flowed freely among the knights; I could feel their magical energies pulse in tune with my heartbeat.

Only

Now was the time for a righteous battle.

“Adrian, at your command,” my Uncle said as he turned to me. All the gathered squads of knights and infantry had their eyes raptly focused on me, relishing the moment when that one single word would escape from my lips. The Orcs had been driven back a few meters by my crackling wall of flame, some having trampled over their comrades. Their lines were in disarray.

“Charge,” I said, almost a whisper as I pointed my sword at the ranks of our most hated foe.

“Charge! Charge!” My forces roared, taking up my command and rushing towards the breach. A flash of gold was seen as Adelia rushed into the fray as well, felling Orcs left and right by severing their heads and limbs with her frenzied, inhuman strikes.

The Rangers upon the walls, not able to fire their crossbows into the chaotic melee below them, sang songs of war to bolster the hearts of their comrades. In fact, I recognized the verses that flowed from their mouths:

“Silent are the snowy mountain peaks and the blood-drenched walls.

Only our horns of war are heard, for a new day dawns into which we advance!”

With Twilight aflame in my grasp, I also charged forward. I would cleave through the massed ranks of greenskins like an avenging angel, cleansing Winter Castle of their corrupt kind once and for all.