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

Chapter 164

The Roaring Lions of the North (3)

I stared at the ranked infantry with a blank face, even though the cylindrical weapons that were hooked upon the edges of their shields were guns I’d already seen before.

In the distant past, when orcs and giants, faeries and dwarves ruled the world, there existed elite armies representative of each race.

For the greenskin race, there was the ‘Enraged Flame Legion.’

The giants had the ‘Lighting and Thunderbolt Corps.’

They were the ‘Death Dance and Song Corps’ for the faeries.

And the dwarves had the ‘Boiling Iron Legion.’

The elite gunners of the latter, dwarven force had used the same long-barreled hakenbusche, or hook guns, that the royal infantry had now fixed tightly to their shields. The only difference was that the hand cannons used by the dwarves were much stronger, and they supported them not with huge rectangular shields but rather on large battleaxes.

It was something I couldn’t understand, for even if the dwarves traded their hand cannons more readily than their artillery cannons, it was not something that they traded on such large a scale to other races.

But, whether I understood it or not, what the royal soldiers held was the genuine article, even if the shapes of the weapons were too crude for them to have been forged by dwarves, and with their firepower being incomparable to the original design.

‘Doof!’

While I stared on with a vacant face, the handguns of the heavily armored warriors once more blew fire from their muzzles, and the monsters beyond the shield wall collapsed.

‘Chuck,’ while the monsters staggered back and hesitated for a while, half of the heavily armored arquebusiers retreated to the rear rank. The remaining arquebusiers laid down their shields horizontally to fill the gaps left by their comrades.

‘Cheolkup,’ the arquebusiers who had stepped back were quick of hand as they shook something from pouches and loaded it into the muzzles of their guns with surprising swiftness, and once they were done with this task, they returned to the front rank.

‘Doof! Doof!’

The hand cannons of the warriors who had just returned once more spat fire, and as the monsters stumbled back, the other half of the arquebusiers fell back to reload.

It took them only tens of seconds to angle their guns, remove and then insert something, and return to the front rank.

Those who had already reloaded fired while their comrades readied their guns for another volley. This scene was repeated several times, yet it was clear that the heavily armored squadron, despite their overwhelming firepower, couldn’t completely stop the monsters.

There was a great crisis they had to contend with: The larger monsters rushed on even after being shot by the hand cannons.

It was at that time that the knights came to the fore. The heavily armored arquebusiers opened the shield barrier, and the palace knights killed the large monsters before falling back again, with the shield wall closing after their withdrawal.

This process flowed so naturally, with consummate ease.

The troops of Winter Castle had been skeptical of how much power the support forces from the capital could bring to bear, as they had no actual combat experience. These northern soldiers now loudly exclaimed their praise, but not everyone was so admiring of the reinforcements.

“How long will I need to hold my men back and just let them watch!?” came the fierce cry from Vincent.

And in the next moment, the knights of Winter Castle, who had retreated to regain their energy, headed for the front line all at once.

‘Chuck!’ the heavily armored arquebusiers opened up their barrier as if they had eyes on the back of their heads.

The knights passed through the gaps and started to run wild. Their energy had been exhausted before, yet it now shone so clearly upon their blades. They had regained their reserves in the short period of rest granted to them. The courageous orcs couldn’t best the knights’ swords and were swept away, and the large, ferocious monsters spouted blood and fell as the knights slashed into them.

The soldiers of Winter Castle shouted, and the arquebusiers struck upon their shields, the sharp metallic sound echoing across the wall.

‘Woow~’ the keening of swords rang out from everywhere.

‘Buwoo! Buwoo! Buwoo woo!’ and that’s when the horn sounded.

“The reinforcements are here!”

It seemed as if the end of the world had come beyond the wall, but I now looked beneath it.

‘Chuck~ Chuck~ Chuck~’

A group of troops appeared with heavy footsteps. They were dwarves, dappled in shadows by the hooded capes that they wore. One dwarf in the lead threw back the hood of his cloak and exclaimed, “Prince! It’s been a long time!”

“Meister Surkara!”

He was indeed Meister Surkara, who had visited Winter Castle along with Prima Meister Turka.

“I came to give you the aid of my arms!”

I greeted the dwarves with a bright smile, for I had not expected their participation in the battle.

“You’re right on time, Meister! If you came but a little later, there would be almost nothing left for the dwarves to fight!”

Surkara laughed and said, “Thank you for that, prince! We dwarves do prefer live orcs more than dead orcs. That way, we get to slay the buggers!”

After saying this, Surkara led the dwarves onto the wall.

“Prepare to open your shields!”

With the words spoken beneath the wall serving as greeting enough, the dwarves now pulled out their axes, screamed, and rushed right into the fray.

‘Chuck!’ the arquebusiers raised their shields high, and two-hundred dwarves charged out at once, their stout bodies hurtling through the gap opened by the royal infantry.

‘Swchka!’ the dwarves started swinging their axes left and right.

‘Schoop!’ ‘Kaa-Ahk!’ the monsters who had their legs severed fell screaming.

The dwarves leaped onto and split open the skulls of the fallen monsters.

It started in earnest from that point on as two hundred dwarves madly cut down monsters.

Hack, slash, split, and slash again – the dwarves cared not to defend themselves, for the crude blades of the orcs could not so much as scratch dwarven armor and helms.

‘Dong!’ the blows landed by the orcs bounced off the armor.

“You green shits!”

“Away with you, smelly bastards!”

The angry dwarves were inevitably out for revenge.

‘Aaah!’ the screams of monsters sounded from all over.

“For Winter Castle!” came Vincent’s fierce roar. “Leave the minimum number of troops to defend the walls! All, on the offensive!”

The gate ground open with a great roar, and the Black Lancers, lined up and fully armed, charged from the castle gate at once.

And at their forefront was the descendant of Gallohard. Gallohard, a Blood Lion whose horsemanship was legendary, said to be close to that of the gods themselves.

There he was: Gallahan Gallohard.

‘Schwaak!’ and the moment that Gallahan charged through the castle gates, a wild wind raged. It was the poem of the Gallohard family, [The Poetry of Flurry].

Gallahan became like those humans of old as he readied his lance and charged with the force of that splitting wind into the densely packed monsters who were not given a second’s time to step out of his path.

“Don’t fall behind the rookies!” the one-eyed Quéon roared as he supported Gallahan from the rear. Arwen and Eli, who I had not seen leave the wall, were there as well. I watched as the dwarves leaped and hacked through the dark green waves, as they charged over the mounds of monster corpses piled high against the walls.

“Hey-ho!”

“Hab!”

The dwarves ensconced in their armor looked like huge iron balls, and wherever they passed, monsters screeched and fell as they became part of the piled carcasses.

The Winter Knights followed as they cut into the monsters that the dwarves had not dealt with.

“We can’t stand and watch, lads! Brothers of the North! With me!”

The knights and soldiers sent by the northern lords ran down the walls and through the gates, their spears and swords at the ready.

That dark green wave that had struck against the walls of Winter Castle now cracked and was split asunder.

The monsters began to stumble, stagger, and retreat.

Winter Castle’s army pierced their swords and spears into the backs of fleeing monsters.

“Follow them!”

The excited knights were moving away from the castle.

“Come back!” I shouted at them with the full force of my mana.

Right then- ‘Dum~ Dum~ Dum~ Dum~’

I heard the sound of war drums from the other side of the snowfield. The elite war legion of the orcs emerged, struggling through the monsters that were fleeing to the mountains in groups. At their forefront was a giant orc who held the banner of the Enraged Flame Legion.

“Smash through them!”

“Do not back down!”

The knights who saw the elite orcish army appear charged at them with fierce shouts.

‘Oh oh oh oh!’ orc guards and orc warriors ran to meet the knights face-to-face.

“Kill the things!”

“Let’s finish it!”

The knights let their swords blaze bright.

‘Orh waagh!’

‘Ahhh!’

Each one of the orcs gathered red fervor into their axes and spears.

‘Kngsclhak!’ hundreds of brilliant swords collided with thousands of fervor-infused weapons.

“Aaah!” dozens of knights became sacks of ravaged flesh that flew through the air.

‘Nrgaaah!’ hundreds of orcs were battered back as their limbs were severed.

“Do not back down!”

“I will take the lead!”

Arwen and Eli slashed their swords in all directions as they crushed the lines of the orcish legion. Winter Knights and the soldiers of Winter Castle trampled over dead and dying orcs to kill some more.

“Vincent!” I shouted as I looked back at his spot. “The troops have gone too far! It’s time for them to fall back!”

However, the seat of the count was empty.

“Count Balahard is out there with the Winter Knights,” said a ranger as he pointed with his finger.

As I followed the direction in which he pointed, I saw the Winter Knights who had split apart the orc war legion, off in the distance. And at their forefront was Vincent, who was cutting down orcs like a madman.

I frowned. On the face of it, Vincent’s judgment wasn’t bad. He had taken advantage of the performance of the royal heavy armored squadron and the joining of the dwarves.

The impetus of the enemy was broken, and the momentum of our allied forces has soared to the ends of the sky.

It was a very reasonable judgment to expand that momentum and maximize the damage done to the monsters. It was also a proven tactic by now, to charge from the castle if the opportune moment presented itself.

In fact, it was obvious that our allies were dominating the battle.

The dwarves had fallen upon the center of the orcs like cannonballs, quickly hacking that solid fortress of ranked orcs into a gory mess. The knights led by Arwen and Eli were madly slaughtering the orcs from the flanks. The elite war legion was on the edge of rapidly collapsing without even being able to put up a decent fight. Everything was going well.

If things continued like this, we would surely be able to utterly break the enemy’s momentum and scatter the monsters back into the mountains before the day was done.

However, I had a bad feeling.

“Ah-” and only moments later did I realize why I had such misgivings.

“Oh shit!” I spat out a curse.

“Everyone, fall back!” I shouted for them to retreat, channeling all the mana I could into my voice.

However, it was already too late.

“Oach!”

“Aahh!”

Screams erupted all through the ranks of the Allied Northern Forces that have charged from the gates.

Orcs popped out from under the snow, and these risen orcs began to cleave into the ranks with feral insanity.

Soldiers died all across the snowfield.

The dwarves and knights on the frontline did not know what was occurring in the rear, and they continued cutting down orcs.

“Come back!” I once more shouted with all my mana. However, the knights and dwarves still busied themselves with the enemies that faced them. I shouted with enough mana for my voice to reach the very peaks of the mountains, yet they all acted as if they had not heard my voice.

Maybe they had decided that it was too late to retreat, or they believed it would be better to completely scatter the enemy and then fall back rather than attempting a forced retreat from within enemy lines.

“Even if they try to return, the Allied Northern Forces are blocking the retreat, locked in battle as they are!”

“You idiots!”

The rangers upon the wall shouted out to those on the snowfield.

The knights and soldiers of the Allied Northern Forces had become drunk with the martial spirit of Winter Castle – they had now been plunged into absolute confusion after the orcs had burst from the snow.

And the Winter Knights had to pass through the messy lines of their northern allies to reach the castle. It would not be easy.

“They should rather break the enemy’s backbone and then swivel back to marshal our Northern Allies!”

It was as the rangers said: This was a wiser course of action. And the knights and dwarves, with the great momentum they possessed, had the might to put such a plan into action.

Unless the Overlord showed up all of a sudden, nothing could halt the carnage of the dwarves and knights.

But it wasn’t just our allies who were looking for the ideal opportunity.

In the middle of a battlefield filled with the fervor of orc warriors, I sensed something. And Vincent and his knights were about to set foot on that patch of snow, that patch where something huge was hiding – a covert yet fierce entity, and very intimidating. It was the energy of the Overlord I had been seeking out for so long.

“Damn!” I judged what to do in a single moment as I sprang into a sprint, my sword already in my hand.

I watched as Vincent cut into orcs at random, and I ran. I ran hard.

Nogisa, his palace knights, and the royal infantry followed me, their goal being to aid the northern troops whose lines have been thrown into chaos. I kept sprinting ahead as I heard those behind scream relentlessly for the troops upon the snowfield to fall back.

“Vincent!”

When I finally reached the back of Vincent and his knights, they were passing over that hidden energy.

“You are late!” Vincent laughed as he looked back at me as if to make sure that he had heard my voice.

“Damn,” I swore to myself at Vincent’s carefree reaction as I charged at him.

‘Vgshoo!’ the snow exploded, and Vincent’s body was thrown into the air. I jumped over the knights before me and shortened the distance between myself and Vincent at once.

Vincent, who had seen the earth become sky before landing in the snow, looked up at me with wide eyes.

‘Krrssk~’ the pile of snow beneath him quavered and ‘Quap!’, a geat dark-green hand erupted from the snowdrift and reached for Vincent.

Vincent realized his peril a moment later and summoned light into his sword. However, his brilliant sword aura was scattered with ease in the face of the blooming fervor.

It all happened before I even reached the patch of snow, before I could even bring the power of my poetry to bear. In that slow passage of time, my eyes were wide open.

‘Sassak!’ It was then that a golden flash erupted from among the knights.

Adelia, my dear Adelia, pushed Vincent aside and struck out with her sword.

Urdu’s red fervor collided with that pure, golden blaze.