Chapter 158

Finally Returned (3)

Knights who had managed to survive the energy sang along with the war poem, their swords raised.

‘Buwooo woo!’

The sound of a horn rang from somewhere.

‘Buwooo wooo!’

Then, dozens of horns were blown all at once. Rangers upon the walls of Winter Castle began singing along.

‘Krrk, krrrk,’ the muzzle of the cannon was raised.

‘Oah oh oh oh oh!’

Once more, the presence in the mountain range cried out.

However, no one was shaken, for the rising spirits of the northern army have become as strong as a wall, and the beast’s roar could no longer cross it. Arwen exhaled, her face flushing red.

The soldiers could feel the change on their skins. All hearts within the castle were thrilled by the presence of the first prince. The endlessly jumping heat finally settled down, forming itself into an uplifting sensation. Then the prince turned around. He tilted the point of his raised sword and narrowed his stance.

‘Chuck, Chuk,’ knights bowed down in the snow. Arwen followed their example as she stuck her sword in the snow and knelt her legs.

“Endless praise to your Highness the First Prince, who has finally returned.”

The veteran rangers were excited as the greetings rang out and as they blew upon their horns. The knights roared in joy. Even if only a single person returned, so much has changed by this.

There was no more fear of the monster horde on the snowfield, nor was there a fear of the unknown monster nestled in the mountain.

“Welcome back, your Highness the First Prince!” Count Balahard welcomed the prince, his face overjoyed.

The honor given by thousands of soldiers and knights died down, and the first prince gave an arrogant nod.

The prince’s attitude seemed to be one without hesitation – as if he took their obeisance for granted from the beginning, as if all these troops had been his from the very start.

Arwen looked at the prince without even blinking.

The last time she had seen him, he had still been a boy, unable to hide his youth. The first prince had indeed become a man. As Arwen watched his matured figure, an old memory suddenly came to her mind. She remembered how she had hated and despised him for the unforgivable insult he had done to her.

She then believed she would never be able to shake off her contempt and hatred, even after making an oath of vassalage to him, so she always treated him with courtesy and formalized false sincerity.

She never believed she would ever become loyal and devoted to the first prince. Arwen had believed this with certainty. Now, more than anyone else, she was welcoming the return of the prince.

It was a great pleasure to see him, and it made her surprisingly uncomfortable to admit this.

And before he had come, Arwen had fought without ceasing, believing that she had to fill the empty seat of the prince. She ran all along those narrow walls to make sure the seeds the prince had sown did not die in vain. Yet, she only added one sword to the battle, and it was impossible for a single sword to support the entire castle. Arwen felt freed from a burden that she hadn’t even known was there.

There were many things she wanted to say, but she kept all those words deeply hidden in her heart.

At long last, Arwen released some of the power she had gained, letting that stand in the stead of the words she could not utter. The prince’s gaze roved over the walls yet settled on her for a while.

‘Haha,’ the prince laughed, and that was enough. It didn’t suit Arwen’s personality to bare her heart.

It was more than enough that a smile and a show of respect served as the greeting of this reunion.

‘Pchk, Pchk, Pchk,’ the prince ascended the stairs to the castle wall, and when he finally reached the wall, ‘chuck,’ he came to a halt.

Arwen stood behind the prince, taking it for granted that this was where she had belonged.

“You’ll never be alone again,” she whispered sweetly, softly. The prince looked back for a moment as if to make sure that he had indeed heard a low whisper, but he said nothing as he once more showed his back to Arwen.

The prince headed for the center of the wall, and the one-eyed cavalry commander and Count Balahard followed him. In due time, the prince stood facing the mountain range after he had reached the middle of the wall.

His gaze was not directed at the horde of monsters that filled the snowfield. Rather, his eyes were looking at a spot in the faraway mountain range.

* * *

There were a lot of welcoming faces on the wall: Dear Arwen and Vincent, the one-eyed Quéon and Jordan, as well as the other rangers. However, now was not the time to share in the joy of reunion. I channeled my energy as I lifted up a banner of Winter Castle that flapped before me. I pushed back my shoulder and threw the banner with all of my mana.

‘Kshworr!’ the banner flew over the snowfield with such a roar that it seemed deafening, and it finally reached its destination: The very center of the snowfield upon which tens of thousands of monsters clamored.

‘Swang!’ the banner struck into the earth, and monsters that became naught but bloody sacks of flesh scattered in every direction. The bloody flag of Balahard fluttered in the center of the carnage.

“You shall not pass that line!”

The monsters were excited by the smell of blood, and they tried to charge at the castle: But they could come no further. I did not allow it.

“Isn’t it mine, either those high halls or that dignified throne?

“There is nothing that is not my seat.”

I sang [Poetry of the Defeated King] in my mind as a warning to the beasts and demons who had invaded my territory while I was away. And not a mere warning, but a proof of my karma after I had killed the Warlord, usurping his throne. Fortunately, the monsters fully understood my meaning, and they stumbled and retreated back over the line drawn by the banner.

However, their leader on the other side of the mountain seemed to have different ideas. A great energy started writhing in those mountains. Unlike the shapeless roar of the beast, it was a clear, concrete energy. The anger and hostile intent within it was obvious. The monsters that have begun to retreat with groans now ran wild once more, all of them releasing an eerie light. It was all too clear where such madness was aimed at.

I raised by hand and pointed at the banner I had thrown.

“Cannon.”

Vincent raised his fist at my words, then he shouted straight away, “Banner!”, not even giving the cannoneers time to realign their barrels.

The iron cannons fired with fearful report when he had barely stopped speaking.

‘Doof! Doof!’

Surprisingly enough, all the shells landed exactly at the border I had drawn.

I saw Vincent and his unspoken question of “When?”, his face gloomy.

The moment I had thrust the banner, I had also angled all the guns with my mana.

“If we had to hold out for a day or two more… I don’t know where we would’ve been had your Highness not come,” said Quéon, and he did not laugh or frown. “A hundred Black Lancers are waiting in front of the city gate.”

“Why are the lancers there?” I asked.

“You are charging out, aren’t you?”

I finally laughed and replied with, “Right. I will go out.”

So, I headed straight down from the wall, and it was all as Quéon had said: One hundred Black Lancers and three fully armed knight squadrons were waiting under the gates.

Even my own knights were there.

“I said it was so urgent that we almost charged out alone,” said Eli from where he stood among the knights.

“Your Highness,” said Adelia as she approached, handed me my helmet, and quietly checked the buckling upon my armor.

“I feel like I’m being pushed out of these gates by all of you,” said I.

“So you’re not going out?”

Instead of answering, I mounted my horse and put on my helm.

“Eli, Adelia, and I will take the lead,” came my order.

“I will be with you,” said Arwen suddenly as she steered her horse and let it slip in behind mine.

“Lord Arwen,” said Bernardo Eli, so thrilled that he had spoken her name that he couldn’t think of anything more to say. Then, “You’ve grown a lot of hair.”

What he said, in the end, was a true spectacle. How would Eli know how much hair she had grown, with her head ensconced in such a helm?

“We can greet one another and reunite after this battle,” came Arwen’s somewhat chilly reply.

“You aren’t a knight of steel, but a knight of iron walls!” came Eli’s petulant reply.

Quéon gave voice to some unknown sound and the knights who heard it laughed and laughed, finding it to be hilarious.

Meanwhile, Vincent wanted to know if we were ready to go, so he glanced at me. I nodded, and he shouted with vigor, “Open the gates!”

I heard the men laboring at the gates encourage one another as the sound of the mighty pulley rolling echoed through the gatehouse.

‘Gthud!’ monsters running mad could be seen through the crack as the gate started lifting itself with a roar.

‘Cheolkup,’ I lowered my visor, and the inside of my helmet quickly became heated with my breath. I breathed in the pleasant hot air, drew my sword, pointed it beyond the gates, and roared, “Charge!”

“Ha!” the knights answered at once.

My horse reared, gave a brief whinny, and then charged on.

‘Dukuduk dukuduk dukduk!’

The sound of hundreds of hoofbeats followed after me.

‘Doof! Doof!’

The iron cannons roared upon the walls.

‘Woooh!’ hundreds of swords keened with mana.

A flame of true spirit bloomed on the edge of my sword.

Under my breath, I recited a war poem.

`Oooh~ Oooh~’ the rings of the knights resonated as they responded to my song.

‘Thump~ Thump~ Thump~ Thump~’

My heart started jumping like mad.

“Charge!”

We aimed for the very center of the horde, where the flaming iron of the cannons fell.

My horse charged into battle, and we were engulfed in madness, with monsters screaming in our faces.

The orc legion with their red banner was right in front of us, and I was so glad to see those ugly cheeks and filthy dark-green skins once more.

“I missed you, orcs!” I shouted as I slashed down with Twilight, wreathed in blue flames.

The orc warriors blocking us off to the front collapsed.

“Ha!” I pushed myself into the middle of the orcs.

‘Swot!’ as I raised my sword, Eli’s voice came to my ears, and he was singing [Poetry of the Full Moon].

And in the next moment, Bernardo Eli passed me by. Adelia began singing [Poetry of Sudden Change] as she too charged out ahead. On my left, there shone a sword as pale as the moonlight, and to my right, a golden blade that blazed like the sun, and both these blades were raping the orcish lines.

Few orcs remained alive as the sun and moon rose, met, and spread disaster. Unfortunately, this impressive scene did not fell enough orcs.

“Ha!” a sword shining with starlight started cleaving into the orcs as it passed by Adelia and Eli. It was Arwen who had run past me, and she was slaughtering orcs left and right.

I looked at my sword all of a sudden and saw that the darkly burning flame of my true spirit was without color.

“Go first!” I shouted, and the Black Lancers charged past me with Quéon at their lead.

“Fire!” and the lancers fired their crossbows at once.

“Open ranks! Throw!”

Knights spread into a line and threw their hatchets.

‘Kwadaf! Kwadaf!’ the flaming missiles of the iron cannons erupted as they crashed into the middle of the monsters.

‘Sasasasasak~’ thousands of arrows flew overhead, and the monsters pierced by them screamed.

I opened my eyes and looked for an enemy, but there remained none nearby. Only corpses were spread out before me.

Even if I had charged out of the gates, I had not even gotten the chance to swing my sword, even a few times.

I kicked into my horse’s flanks, and it sped up.

As I gripped my sword, I passed the three sword masters and slashed into the enemies before me.

* * *

Silence descended over the wall of Winter Castle. None spoke, for everyone was looking at the snowfield with blank faces. The total number of monsters upon the snowfield, both large and small, was at least 30,000.

And yet- less than five hundred knights were tearing the monsters apart. And at the forefront were four knights, each with swords blazing dark, auspicious, pale, or brilliant.

And no monster could stand before them: Not the hordes of feral trolls, nor the ferocious orcs or even the ogres, called the kings of the mountains. These monsters merely had their heads severed or their hearts pierced, and they died.

As the knights split that sea of monsters, they charged on without hesitation. And finally, they fully penetrated that large army of 30,000 monsters. Everyone on the wall stood with their mouths wide agape.

“Wow! Ahh!” someone shouted then, and soon everyone shouted in excitement at the amazing feat of only three hundred knights.

“How can they come back after passing through all the monsters like that?” a ranger company commander asked, expressing his doubts. The cheers rang high and then suddenly stopped.

Everyone on the wall looked at the distant knights.

The knights who had pierced through the army of monsters were reforming their lines, and once more, the swords and lances at their lead pointed to the center of the monsters.

“Surely?” spitting in the face of the world’s end, the reorganized ranks of knights charged at the monster legion.

“Oh, that’s how they’ll come back,” said the ranger company commander, nodding in surprise.

No one sympathized with his gormless admiration of the knights.

They opened their eyes and looked at the knights, who were returning to the walls by way of slaughtering the monsters. And they finally came back.

Even though they were drenched in blood and gasping for breath, they were in good shape.

The gates ground open and thumped close once more, and cheers erupted only moments later.

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