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

The Army of Yeokcheon (4)

Even when faced with that overwhelming swell of energy, Vincent did not forget what to do.

“Pour the oil!”

The rioting monsters were bunched up as they pushed for the opened gate. The oil spilled over the flocking monsters.

“Light them up!”

The veteran rangers then fired flaming arrows.

‘Fooosh!’

The oil was set ablaze and in an instant, flames erupted to the left and right of the gate. It was not enough – the berserk monsters could not be stopped by the lighted oil.

“Fire!”

The rangers leaned over the wall in haste and fired volleys of arrows to the sides of the gate in unison.

Hundreds of rangers baptized the monsters in a hail of missiles, and the beasts became as beehives with all the wounds that bloomed upon them.

Nevertheless, more monsters swarmed to the gate and the rangers now became desperate to stop them.

“The knights are out! They have left the gates!”

“Focus fire on the gate!”

A sight too horrifying to describe with words now transpired as the monsters tore through the gate as they roared.

Flaming monsters rushed through, bloodied from where arrows had pierced them. The gates slammed shut.

“All knights still in the castle: Kill the monsters who have entered!” Vincent ordered, his gaze still fixed to the area before the walls.

He watched as the knights wheeled their horses around sharply on the distant snowfield and rode toward the western wall.

“Well?” Vincent muttered as he widened his eyes.

He could not see the first prince who was riding on his, his flashing blue blade held before him. All Vincent could see was a riderless white horse that galloped and the Black Lancers who followed it.

Vincent scanned the area for the first prince but caught no sight of him anywhere in the ranks.

“Where is the first prince?” he screamed and then suddenly: ‘Shwaaak!’

A flash from beneath the wall had caught his eye.

He looked down, glaring as if possessed.

“Ah!”

The first prince was there, both his hands grasping onto his shining blue sword, his figure framed by the flames that roared behind him.

Only his personal warriors and the green-cloaked swords-elves were with him.

“Your Highness! Why?”

The first prince did not answer; he just hefted his sword and stepped forward.

A single step.

Yet, it was a step of great portent and lethality.

‘Too-du-duk-duk,’ the heads of dozens of monsters who were clinging to castle walls with their claws were severed.

The brains of the monsters did not realize what was happening until the moment that their necks slid from their shoulders. A few of them still scratched at the castle walls in their final paroxysms.

A golden flash of light cleaved through the monsters that fell with the prince’s next step.

This was just the beginning.

The first prince continued to run along the wall, and deathly golden flashes were followed by green shadows, their cloaks billowing.

A river of blood flowed under the walls.

There were twenty-one warriors, and the only thing they left behind was the ravaged carcasses of monsters.

“Woo ah! Woo ah!” the soldiers atop the walls shouted as they took in the glorious sight.

Their shoulders had become hunched by the presence of ominous beings lurking in the mountain, but they now straightened. Faces that had been bleached by fear now became flushed red as they watched the red procession of dying monsters.

Their fear was no longer evident; no, the soldiers were cheering as they were suffused by the power of a Sword Master for the first time in their lives.

Still, Vincent could not find it in himself to cheer on like the soldiers.

He had at first cheered the first prince, but then he remembered an important fact, and he bit his lip and moaned as he did so.

Vincent recalled it well: When his father had reached this level, he had to spend a great while to work hard and digest his new strength. He had said that any energy not digested would be expelled from the body and lost.

It was a full year since Vincent’s father had bestrode the field of battle. The first prince was now using his blade with reckless abandon, not resting at all – and he didn’t seem to know that the energy he should have digested over time and made his own would now scatter into the air.

Vincent had to warn him. He ran toward the side of the wall where the first prince was fighting, but then suddenly stopped.

Would Prince Adrian even listen?

Vincent ran a conversation they had shared so recently through his mind.

When he had asked if there was truly a need to open the gates and charge out, the first prince had replied that he had to reverse the grim atmosphere somehow before night fell. The prince had not even dared to say what a battle against the undead would be like.

Vincent now looked at the distant first prince and chewed on his lips restlessly.

The youngest Sword Master the kingdom had ever known was giving up the infinite possibilities offered to him, burning himself out by slaying monsters. And he only did it to give the soldiers a fighting chance once night fell.

It was terrible to think about.

And while the first prince was destroying his potential for the sake of others’ future, the lord of Winter Castle was standing safely on the wall and chewing his lips. Vincent wanted to charge out of the gate right away and join the fight, but he knew he couldn’t leave the wall.

He was not a knight, but the lord of the fortress.

Only now did Vincent understand why his father would only face the enemy head-on at the last minute if there was no other choice.

He chewed his lips even more fervently. Vincent could not shake off the feelings of self-doubt that welled up in him. Still, he had to do his duty, not as a knight of Balahard, but as lord of Winter Castle.

What the Count of Balahard had to do now was lead his soldiers on the field of battle.

“Rangers! From this moment on, give your all to annihilate the monsters under the wall!”

He had to support the youngest and quite promising Sword Master with every means at this disposal so that the first prince could at least wield his Aura Blade more than once. He had to encourage the rangers to fire their arrows at an increased pace.

“Do not spare anything! Fire!”

Having finished their turn, the Black Lancers and the other knights now began charging into the monsters from the other side, sweeping them away.

Rangers all along the walls kept firing their volleys. Vincent stood tall as he scanned the battlefield with his keen eyes.

He watched both the first prince and his sword, a prince who carried a heavy burden on his shoulders,

Vincent kept on staring with heavy eyes.

* * *

“Huegh!” I vomited, long and drawn out.

It felt as if the bile had barely gone down, but at least I wasn’t as bloated as before.

There was still a lot of the Elixir’s energy that my body had not digested. If I left things like this, it would become a poison that would harden my body and interfere with my mana flow. To a greater extent, the energies could collide with my mana heart and shatter it.

The stiffness in my body will disappear after all the poison has been burned up, so I summoned the energy of the Elixir into my blade and continued to burn it.

Meanwhile, I was killing monsters, discharging the toxins, and boosting the morale of the soldiers.

One stone and three, that was how much energy had been discharged.

By the time the remaining energy of the Elixir in my body was no longer threatening, I had reached the middle of the eastern wall, along with Adelia and the swords-elves.

“Your Highness!”

I heard the sound of a horse’s hooves behind me, as well as a call from Quéon.

“Stay back!” came his warning, so I hurriedly grabbed Adelia at her waist and flung us away from the wall.

The Black Lancers and the knights passed us by in an instant.

They trampled over the monsters who were scrabbling and scratching and scraping at the walls.

“Your Highness! Are you okay?” Carls cried as he rode to me.

“Are there any injuries!?”

I shook my head to allay Carls’s fears and looked to the top of the wall. Rangers were lined up along it, drawing their bowstrings and releasing their arrows.

There was no sign of the soldiers who had before just followed orders with faces wracked by fear.

They were now hard men, full of fighting spirit.

These soldiers were utterly immersed in the battle.

A subtle feeling entered me as I saw their raised morale.

“Fwoo,” I sighed in relief. Adelia stopped struggling so much in my arms. The murderous atmosphere of the battlefield that made her insane slowly settled down.

At some point, she stopped struggling completely.

“Your Highness,” the bloodied one-eyed cavalry commander called as he approached me. He nodded and lifted his sword high.

“We won!” he shouted.

“We won! The monsters are destroyed!” the knights roared.

The rangers lined upon the wall followed with their own cries of victory.

Still, there was no time to enjoy our triumph – the sun was setting.

“Everyone, return to the castle!”

The gate was opened again. Knights led their wounded fellows through it. I had remained to the very end as I watched the returning knights and finally followed them on through.

“Ignite the fires!”

“Stoke the flames!”

Hundreds of bonfires began to burn.

Still, even a hundred fires can not drive the night away, so it crawled upon us as the sun set.

And at that moment, the dead skulking in the shadows of the mountain were unleashed.

‘Sasa sassak, sasa sassak,’ came the sound as the snowfield, which had been palely shining in the moonlight, quickly turned dark. The faces of the soldiers, earlier flushed with victory, turned dark once more.

I stood in the middle of the wall and raised my sword high.

‘Pvooo!’

Twilight began to shine a brilliant white.

My Aura Blade, consisting now of pure mana instead of the Elixir’s energy, flashed as it lit up the walls.

It would not be enough to drive away the darkness that has already settled upon the world, but through the long night, it would serve as a beacon of hope for the soldiers.

I continued to intensify the light in Twilight.

Soldiers turned their heads as they followed my light. Thousands of eyes were staring at me.

“On this night,” I cried out as I looked at them, “none who are not alive shall cross these walls!”

I was encouraging the soldiers, but also warning the dead who already emitted groans from their jaws beyond the reach of light, in that utter darkness.

“Pour the oil under the wall!”

Upon my command, the rangers hurriedly upended the jars of oil.

‘Fwook!’

Smoldering stumps of wood were thrown upon the oil, and the fire blazed into life, further fueled by monster carcasses.

A curtain of fire appeared along the walls.

I stared at the raging inferno.

I knew that this would not be enough to ward off the long night.

“Gather the soldiers.”

We had arranged this in advance, so Vincent classed the soldiers without a word. All ordinary soldiers, knights excepted, were gathered at the bottom of the walls. Their weapons were taken from them and placed in a storehouse, which was sealed.

“Disable the gate. Loosen the pulleys and remove the chains.”

I made sure that the chains were unwound from the pulleys and stored elsewhere. Furthermore, I chose knights to protect the gate, instead of the normal guards.

“No matter what you see or hear, do not be fooled,” I instructed.

“We will cover our ears and not listen, not even turning our heads,” the knights answered without hesitation.

Normally, I would have doubted that they would have followed such orders, but not today.

“Stay with each other, but report any weird behavior immediately.”

“If you say that again, it’ll be the tenth time,” said Vincent, but I couldn’t laugh at his words.

“Everyone, stand firm.”

This was going to be a real long night.

* * *

The flames, fueled by monster fat, gradually faded, and after a while, barely lit up the walls.

As the fires faded, darkness swiftly came. I could hear that hissing breath in my ears, and I knew that real night has begun.

“Huhhm… ugh!” sounds of sickness began to sound from all across the walls.

Some rangers gazed beyond the walls at the snowfield, and their eyes became red. Some of them were shedding tears.

“Your Highness, this is…” Vincent had come up and talked to me. His face seemed overwhelmed by concern. And while I looked at him, I was astonished that I could not hear him speak. Furthermore, his face, always rock-solid, was not so now.

“…never be shaken. Well, Your Highness- No!”

Vincent grabbed my shoulder as he grimly pointed with his other hand to an area under the wall.

“Father! Father is here! Over there!”

I could see only black darkness where his finger pointed.

“My father is alive!”

I raised my hand and slammed it into Vincent’s cheek.

“Bale Balahard is dead. Stay upright,” I told him with clenched teeth, and continued, “If you, the lord, falter, then this castle will not last through a single night.”

Vincent’s eyes had been rolling in their sockets, but they now returned to their normal state.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

“Stand firm and guard your mind. Know that the dead do not dwell among us.”

I didn’t blame Vincent for his lapse, and it wasn’t just him.

“Lidoval, you are… Wait! Wait, I’ll save you!”

“Jake! What are you doing? Cubs, hold him!”

Jake’s fellow rangers raged as they caught him just before he could jump from the wall.

Such scenes were occurring across the walls; no, throughout the entire castle.

Under the wall, the recruits had started playing dice and card games, and as a group, they were very confused. The soldiers and knights approached them and bunched them into orderly lines. Some had started to run toward the gate with blank eyes, as if they wished to open them and invite living beings.

The knights guarding the gates beat these runners into submission or unconsciousness.

I studied the darkness beneath the walls. The dead could not invade the homes of the living without their permission, so now they were awaiting the moment at which the living would open the gates for them.

‘Adrian! My nephew, come on, open the gate.’

‘My wounds are deep. If you don’t heal me…’ #

‘I came back to you, why don’t you open the gate for me?’

The undead were constantly whispering in the voices of those I so longed to see again.

I took a deep breath.

“Isn’t it mine, either those high halls

“Or that dignified throne?

“There is nothing that is not my seat.”

I silently ran [The Poetry of the Defeated King] through my mind. My poem, having reached perfection, spread throughout the entire castle.

The weeping, moaning, and urgent yells subsided.

And finally – there was utter silence.

‘Sssh, sssh,’ a tongue of pure darkness formed – as if staring at me.

“If the king of the dead arrives today, we will take him on, but we will not be taken.”

The Aura Blade was my teeth, and the poem was my roar – I growled fiercely as I stared at the darkness.

Through that long night, I stood tall, constantly reminding the darkness of my presence.

How much time has passed?

In the distance, I heard a cock heralding in the dawn.

‘Kookooru Koo-Krokwaa!’

The darkness drew back its tongue and slowly started to recede. I could see the first rays of dawn come from afar, and then the twilight drove night away until morning had finally come.

“Aaagh,” came the collective groaning of knights and soldiers as they sank to the ground.

“What, you haven’t stepped back?” someone asked me, relieved, but I shook my head.

I knew – the real nightmare has just started.