I Became the First Prince

Chapter 221

Deep Darkness is a Harbinger of the Coming Dawn (1)

Carls Ulrich knew better than anyone what the nature of the person he served was like.

He was never talkative. There was no way that he would first reveal what he wanted to do, what he was trying to do, and what he was thinking, so Carls had struggled several times in his duties as escort knight.

The Crown Prince was always so silent. He was even more so when he was holding a sword. The prince was a great man who would rather let his sword talk once instead of he himself talking sloppily.

Such a prince had talked a lot today. In addition to this, Carls Ulrich knew when the Crown Prince spoke so much: When he had something to teach, or when he wanted to crush someone openly.

His battle with Count Bale Balahard had fallen into the former category; his recent battle with the Number One Knight in the West had fallen into the latter. It seemed that today’s battle was also in the latter class.

Carls Ulrich looked at the prince.

The Crown Prince raised his chin arrogantly and smirked while looking at the being called a High Elf. Cold anger and hostility glistened in the prince’s eyes.

His appearance was such that he seemed to have completely defined the High Elves as an enemy. That unique, arrogant face of the prince was how he looked when dealing with enemies.

“See, I woke up after sleeping for a while, and there was an interesting trick floating around the world.”

It was then that the prince channeled mana onto his sword. The proof of him being a Master, the Aura Blade, blazed brightly. No matter how many times Carls had seen it, he couldn’t help but admiring its brilliant and intense glare.

But at that very moment, ‘Thump Thump’

Carls’ heart started violently beating. His mana rings began to resonate with random fluctuations.

‘Woow, woow!’

It was then that the prince’s sword energy changed dramatically.

“It’s a mana chain.”

The energy was a resonance of mana, which was not achievable by those who gathered mana in the heart, only by those who accumulated mana in rings.

“I don’t know anything different, but it’s amazing that I can resonate with someone else’s mana.”

And some of those resonating waves were Carls’ own.

Carls widened his eyes and looked around.

He saw that several of his comrades had embarrassed faces. All of them had served the Crown Prince for a long time; all of them had followed him into war.

At one time, they had sung as if their throats would burst, sung strange songs that echoed over the battlefield. During the wars, they had experienced the miracle used by the Crown Prince, the thing called Muhunshi. It was only upon hearing those songs that Carls came to realize his rings reacted to them.

What was happening now was nothing new – Carls had, after all, experienced those countless wars.

The only difference was that Carls himself had been a participant in those battles; now, he was participating regardless of his intentions. The prince ignored the will of the palace knights and hadn’t even asked whether it was really good to resonate with others’ mana.

In addition, the Crown Prince did not release a single verse from his mouth.

Carls’ face took on a semblance of surprise.

He only pretended to be amazed; none of the miracles the Crown Prince created surprised him anymore. At this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if the prince suddenly started using magic.

After regaining his composure, Carls looked at Prince Adrian again.

And he realized that today’s duel wasn’t just to trample the High Elf.

The prince’s eyes were talking, saying: Look carefully. Look how the elves fight, how I fight. Also, what to do when dealing with elves.

The moment Carls saw the prince’s eyes, he had an intuition that the crown prince was preparing for a war against the elves. In the near future, the day will come to fight them.

Carls blamed himself for not thinking about it.

It wasn’t long ago that the Crown Prince was brought in bloodstained from the middle of the kingdom, harmed by an elf. It wasn’t that long ago that the prince had warned of how insidious the elves were, what danger they posed. Even if the elves had a justification for coming to help the kingdom, Carls didn’t understand why he had forgotten that warning so quickly.

It seems that he was possessed by their angelic appearance. It seemed that he had been fooled by their good temperament. Otherwise, there would have been no way he could have forgotten to be aware and stay on the defensive.

It felt as if a knife had been driven into Carls’ heart. And as he felt that, the spirit of the palace knights surrounding him changed, all at once. It must be because everyone had figured out the will of the Crown Prince.

‘Woow, Woow!’

As the energy of the palace knights sharpened, the prince’s Sword Aura grew brighter.

“I feel so good.” The prince laughed in satisfaction. Then he fixed his sword in both hands and readied it.

“Come.”

The High Elf lowered his posture with a stern face.

And at that moment, ‘Wdshwa’ the elf disappeared.

No, he seemed to disappear.

‘Visak!’

Carls turned his head, following the sharp metal tone that rang out.

The elf had stood to one side of the hall; he had now reached the front of the prince and was striking out with his sword. The elf’s sword turned hazy.

‘Chang! Chang!’

Metallic sounds erupted again. The strikes were so quick that Carls could barely know where the sword had stabbed until the sounds rang out.

‘Tak Tak’

There came a noise as the elf leaped over the dojo’s floor, and his appearance became blurred again. The prince swiveled around and slid his sword backward.

‘Klang!’

Where the prince had turned to, the elf appeared, and its blow was blocked. The elf drew a circle in the air with his sword and stabbed out again.

Once more came the sound of metal on metal. The elf disappeared suddenly.

‘Swish Swish’

White shadows appeared and disappeared around the prince at a speed that was difficult to follow with the eyes. In contrast, the prince stood tall on the spot and did not move one foot.

If the High Elf was a gale, the prince was a rock.

A flurry struck as if it would topple the rock, but the rock stood firm, forcing away the wind that battered against it. The prince’s sword cried sharply, metallically. Flashes of light were seen as the sharp, puncturing sounds burst out ceaselessly.

“That’s right. What about that handsome sword dance of yours?” screamed the Crown Prince amid the sounds of sword strikes.

“Your Highness has no intention of playing fair, so neither do I!” came the shout of the elf from behind the prince.

‘Saaah!’

A silvery-white light flashed out with a sound as that of a snake flicking its tongue. The Crown Prince had been standing upright and in place until then, he suddenly crouched and swiveled his body in a half-turn. A dark blue sword-light swept around the area, breaking through the floor of the dojo at once. Stone fragments scattered, and dust rose into the air. From the cloud of dirt erupted dozens of metal-on-metal sounds.

Then, at some point, the sounds stopped. Carls gave strength to the eyes.

The prince stood tall in the middle of dirt and dust, his sword hanging in his grip as he looked at his shoulder.

‘Hwaak!’ The prince’s shoulder bloomed red. He looked at his wound with indifferent eyes, shook his arm once, and looked back – as if he didn’t care about the shoulder wound.

Except for the prince’s red-tinged shoulders, he looked no different from when he first entered the duel. It wasn’t the same on the elf’s side.

All of his finely-braided hair had become tangled and messy, and his uniform, which had been as neat as a priest’s, was torn, stripped into rags. The fine appearance he had shown before had become poorly formed indeed.

‘Shh!’ the High Elf raised his hand and stroked his neck. Then he frowned. His white gloves quickly sucked in blood and turned red. Suddenly, the collar of his uniform was also dyed red.

“It must be your first wound,” the prince said as he looked at the elf.

“The High Elves taught me that it’s shameful to keep an injured person alive.”

The elf’s face froze when he heard such a blatant provocation. Then it became completely expressionless. At the same time, the elf’s temperament completely changed. The mysterious, benevolent faerie no longer existed. There was only a ghost-like elf with dull eyes that could sporadically be seen through his tangled hair.

A wind blew around the elf, and it was as gloomy as a wind blowing through a shadowy valley.

‘Uuuh, Uuuuh!’

The sound of a bereaved, deceased woman’s wails spread through the dojo.

Goosebumps sprouted all over Carls’ body. He unconsciously sought out the prince. Fortunately, the Crown Prince wasn’t surprised by the energy that came with that wind.

“The elf’s title is the ‘Whispering Wind,’ and that’s perfect. This is just like a wind blowing through a graveyard.”

Rather, he was happy and added, “Let’s hear what the ghostly woman’s wail can do.”

“Keep in mind that everything that happens from now on is on your Highness’s own initiative,” the High Elf said then with a face which was as insidious as the sudden change in his temperament.

Instead of answering, the prince ran his fingers along the edge of his sword.

The elf stared at the prince and readied his weapon.

“Ahhh,” the elf started humming softly. Then he stepped forward, lightly touching the floor with his toes.

‘Uch-shuck uch-shuck’ over the low, gloomy humming came the sound of his feet shifting.

‘Skshh,’ his sword scratched over the floor, a strange noise that distracted the listener’s mind.

Carls clutched his beating heart and almost stumbled.

“Woow,” the elf’s groan flowed from place to place, a groan full of pain, as if it was crushing nightmares into a single sound. Little by little, the elf’s humming grew faster.

The sounds of his feet moving along the floor picked up in rhythm, and the sound of his sword scratching the floor suddenly changed. The palace knights started retching, and Carls also gasped and groaned.

Right then- ‘Woow!’

The clear keening of a sword penetrated into Carls’ ears. At the same time, his ring started resonating under its own will as it released mana.

“Ah!” Carls’ spirit, which had been confused, awakened. But that was only for a while, as the elf’s tune began invading his mind again. Carls raised his hands. He was about to cover his ears and raise his mana to resist the elf’s terrible song.

“Do not cover your ears!”

If it weren’t for the Crown Prince’s yelling, Carls would have done so. The prince told him to endure, even if it was painful. He said it was a rare opportunity to hear a High Elf singing.

“Remember to keep your senses!”

And Carls couldn’t think about forgetting. Before he could even question what it was that he had to remember, his rings began to cry loudly.

‘Woow!

At the same time, the prince’s Aura Blade soared.

* * *

I clucked my tongue.

In front of me, I saw palace knights groaning, overwhelmed by the energy of a High Elf.

They woke up one by one, starting with Carls, and were resisting, but I saw that it took great strength for them to strive against the energy. The elf’s full sword-dance hasn’t even started yet; he only hummed his tune. If it went on like this, the moment his sword dance began, he would become engrossed in it, consumed by its rhythm.

I had to stop that now – and I had the ability to do so. At best, the elf’s power was equal to the Overlord’s fervor.

If I wanted to, I would be able to overwhelm him by reciting a [Mythic] poem such as [Poetry of the Dragon Slayer] or [Poetry of Sudden Change].

It would be easy to interrupt his song, but I didn’t want to do it that way, as I would only be gaining a personal victory. What I was hoping for was much bigger than that.

‘The faeries go into the forests, the dwarves go under the earth.’

This was the pledge that was made after the Great War, one that has become obsolete. Sigrun and the High Elf before me were proof of this. They have left the forest without invitation and entered the kingdom.

It was natural: This was the era in which mythical martial arts lie forgotten, having become meaningless songs. The promise made at the end of the Great War has become ancient history, and none adhered to it. The prohibitions set upon the evil faeries have disappeared and no longer held any true value. The breach of this oath was inevitable, and war could be the only outcome.

This was the era when humans had to fight the faeries again, like in the age of the Great War.

But things were different now than how they had been then.

Knights who have transcended no longer existed and even the descendant of the great Sky Blade has only come close to a transcendence that he has never been able to achieve.

When monsters like Sigrun came into this world to sow carnage, there was no one to stop them. If war broke out, humans would have become the inevitable victims. But no law in this world says one must just give up and die.

Dance poetry was forgotten, but now humans have a new power: The mana chain.

It is a power of resonance, similar to the rhythms of the elves, yet different. I had combined the mana released from my heart into one small ring. It was just an imitation, so it was unstable, and the wave was weak, but it was enough to facilitate resonance with my heart.

What I lacked, I chose to borrow from others. This would have been impossible had I not awakened in times of war. I looked at the High Elf. He was letting the secret that his race has cultivated for countless years gradually take shape. Compared to that, the fake ring I had created and the songs created by my resonance with the palace knights was just a crude song, with more weaknesses than strengths.

But- “I’m not wrong.”

I was convinced: I wasn’t alone with this power.

This was the enlightenment given to me by my uncle, who had resonated by turning his rings freely during my songs. This was the method that so many rangers and knights of Winter Castle had taught me. While I slept the sleep of a sword, a number of humans had refined and finally established a new technique. The mana chain was a new sword that humanity has acquired since the use of Muhunshi.

‘Shuck!’

At that moment, the faerie race’s swordsinger began his sword-dance.

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