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

From the elves to the Warlord, the steps and actions were so natural that no one could stop them or even think about stopping them.

"What are you idiots doing! "

If the prince had not spoken aloud to join the army across the river, the people would have been so ignorant that they would have only seen him.

The prince cried out that if he was not going to abandon the soldiers of the North again, he should tremble and go now.

The lords and commanders of Central Asia were overwhelmed by that gloomy roar that did not suit their age.

The problem was exhausted soldiers.

It may be possible to keep it, but it was impossible to move forward.

In the words of the commander, the two princes said:

The Orcs pushed to the northern reinforcements will be heading this way. If that happens, we can't stop them with our current troops.

I'm barely stopping it now, but if more troops are pushed, there's only extermination left. But knowing the situation didn't mean there was a sharp number right now.

"You must be a silver lion. Take out him and the other knights. I'll take this place. "

As if the First Prince knew their troubles.

Of course, it was a difficult opinion to accept.

Only after the Silver Lion has led the Knights of the Hundred and Fifty can the monster be distracted. A monstrous monster is released into the battlefield after believing only the words of the Prince.

As you can see, the elves stood by the prince.

Only nineteen led one prince across the middle of the orcs.

"They won't be enough. "

The Silver Lion said that if they were nineteen, they could be compared to a knight.

Though his troubles were long, his actions were quick.

The survivors of the Red Shard Knights and the remaining knights began to organize the Orcs in unison.

The battlefield, which was mixed together, was cleared in an instant.

"Dust! Forward! "

"Ha!"

Soldiers move forward.

Maximilian stands before him.

"Forward! Forward! "

A noble descendant of the royal family encourages soldiers from the front line without taking care of my comfort. The fire of Tutsi, which burned and thought it would never burn again, resurrected again.

Sassasak.

The rain of arrows blowing across the river flows into the back of the oaks.

"These are the rangers of Ballerhard! "

Beyond the river, the elites of the winter castle were blowing arrows. The sound of their words came into their ears like a deaf ear. You're not alone.

"Traffic! Fire! "

Earl Branburg himself stepped up and ordered the Iron Bow Soldier. The archers of the Iron Bow Soldier responded vigorously to the lord's orders and fired on the Orcs in unison. Orcs with their necks and arrows on their backs are dead.

But the Orcs have long been monsters who have forgotten fear and pain.

They didn't care whether the arrows were on my back or the windows on my back. They flew wide, staring solely in front of their eyes.

The fire of hope, which I barely smoked, collapsed so easily in front of that madness.

"Soldiers are not following the knights! "

No matter how much the knights used the dragon, the wire did not intend to move forward.

The protruding knights were isolated from the enemy camp, and the Orcs' spears and axes were shamelessly beaten. Soldiers who have lost their health are caught by the Orcs during battle and dragged into the enemy camp.

If this is the case, all the allies will die before they push up the wire.

Boooooooooo.

Then the sound of the trumpet sounded.

Buoooooooo.

The reinforcements across the river answered with a murky army.

Earl Richter Lichtain and other knights opened their eyes.

Armies of reinforcements soared in an instant beyond the river. Such soaring armaments seemed to be in hand.

Boooooooo!

The sound of the trumpet resounded again. The sound of troops crossing the river became even louder.

Grrrrrrr.

At that moment, a change occurred to the Orcs.

Ever since the king arrived, the orcs, who had fled like photowarriors, have begun to moan in oppression. The frenzied eyes were scratching.

Warlord roars.

The prince blew the horn long as he waited. The elves smash each other's swords and hum their fingers with a clear voice. A horrible monster roars, buried in its fingers and the sound of the trumpet, making it an empty echo.

At that time, the situation began to change rapidly to a new beginning.

The Orcs' eyes were full of madness.

There were no more photowarriors who would not die if they were killed.

The orc looks back as the arrow blooms in the back of the clan standing right next to you. A crack appeared in the dense array of oaks.

The Orcs of the previous rank are fighting fiercely, and the Orcs of the second rank keep looking back.

"Now! Push! "

The commander cried out in time.

"Ha!"

Knights and soldiers rolled their feet and pushed the oaks.

"Dust! Push! "

"Ha!"

Earl Richter Lichtain also rolled his feet and scattered his sword in line with the officer's orders. Dozens of spears emerge right next to you, and the orcs become hives.

Fresh!

The arrows shot up by the iron hawks spill over the heads of the oaks.

"Their ranks have fallen! "

The only allies that have fallen so far have been our allies. The first time the Orcs' ranks collapsed, the inspired soldiers stabbed the spear vigorously.

"Knights forward! "

"Wow!"

The knights roar as if they didn't know who they were directing. They run out of the ranks in unison.

The Orcs, who broke into the crack where the line completely collapsed, danced with their fierce son-in-law. The Orcs fall out in an instant.

"Hup!"

Earl Richter Richtain shook his sword vigorously and retreated.

It was no longer a herd. Mana did not continue.

The energy that invaded deeply during the battle with the monster was tangling in the loop and interfering with Mana's head. I needed time to step back and control the energy.

Fortunately, the pregnancy improved enough for one person to get out of the body.

Until a little while ago, I was on the rooftop.

The foreground has changed so rapidly that it is difficult to keep up.

There was nothing predictable about the monstrous power of a monster named Warlord, or the support forces in the North that suddenly appeared.

Besides, I didn't know that the one who led the reinforcements like the Savior was the eldest son of Leonberger, who was called the shame of the royal family.

Earl Richter Liechtenstein retreated from the line and looked back.

Once released, the monster who will fully lift up the battlefield will be completely grasped by the prince and the nineteen elves and will not budge.

Buoooooo.

One prince pulls out the horn and draws out the sword between the elves.

That's irreparable destruction.

I wonder if the people of the kingdom are blind as a group.

Richter Richtein laughs in vain and chases the prince with his eyes.

Grouch.

The Elves' sword rarely pierces the red energy that the monster wears like an armor. Even the sword that occasionally pierced through the energy left only one small wound in the bloodbath.

Only the Prince's Sword harnesses that red energy and sneezes deeply into the monster's body. Warlord was also more wary of the sword of one prince than the nineteen swords of the elves.

I couldn't believe it with my eyes.

Even the sword around the Aurora Blade did not wound properly, and even the elite knights in the middle of the Gorn did not pierce even the Red Energy.

But now a boy who couldn't even finish his adult food was doing what no one else had done.

No, technically, no one could have done it.

Earl Baleard cut off the monster's arm beyond piercing red energy and wounding him. It was alone without anyone's help.

"What's the same silver lion? What's the best swordsman in the kingdom? "

It was a shame to put Earl Balahad's land in the mouth in front of the nobles.

Richter Richtein reprimanded himself for his arrogance.

Such shame was not the only thing.

Earl Branburg has been proud that his Iron Bow Soldier is a comparable warrior to Baleard's Ranger.

It was an illusion.

The number of rangers in Ballerhard is less than a hundred. But only a short time ago, they were completely overwhelmed by the Orcs.

Far away, he shoots the bow and the iron brain, and when he gets close, he uses a knife. If necessary, the Orcs are pushed with their shields.

But each one of his talents was less than that of the warriors that the lords of Central Asia boasted about.

He was a sharpshooter who couldn't even follow the archers of the Iron Bow Soldier when he used the bow, and his movements were more agitated and fierce than those of the dizzy swordsmen when he used the sword. With a shield, the Earl was stronger than any heavy infantry soldier he had ever seen.

Plus how high morale is again.

Since the battle began, the army has not stopped once.

That was true of the Knights of the North.

Although the number was less than a hundred, they continued to sing and encourage soldiers.

And at the heart of it was a prince.

Even while fighting monsters, I couldn't figure out what the action of a one-prince with a horn would mean.

However, one thing is certain, every time he blew the horn, the Northern Army's armies fluctuated.

And the Orcs were no longer fierce beasts, when the shivering armor soared to the ends of the sky.

The Orcs were already bloody stragglers moaning in the flesh.

All that was left was to get the blood back.

* *

The first thing I saw was his dark shoulders. I remember the last appearance of the outsider when I saw his missing shoulder.

He pretended to be so good that he cut off the monster's arm.

I choked on the fact that the outsider who had been left alone in the enemy camp had not just vanished.

And on the one hand, I was relieved. I was surprised that the outsider left my share.

Grrr.

The Warlord shook his throat low to see if he was uncomfortable planting.

I've already seen the blood, and the eyes of the Dojin are staring straight at me.

I was amazed by the feeling of red eyes.

In return for his arrogance, his loss, his anger, and his feelings seemed to look in the mirror.

I can't believe the monsters and my heart resemble each other. How ridiculous.

I was just as surprised at the murder as I was about to tear the opponent apart.

If there was a difference, this encounter was a coincidence for him and inevitable for me.

I asked Warlord.

Are you king enough to rule? Do you reign as a king?

The Warlord grabs the spear with a nostril. I didn't even care about my question.

The question seems difficult.

I asked him again.

If there is no people to rule, then you will still be king.

The one who was breathing low as if he were going to open the spear right now looked around. I also looked around with that look.

Humans who were deceived by the existence of the reinforcements were squeezing out their last power. The elves wielded their cloaks and helped the human army. Across the river, another human army suddenly appeared, fiercely pushing the Orcs.

Warlord's army, which only knew how to move forward, was under attack from all sides.

He stares at me with a stone-hardened face.

I think I've noticed what I'm going to do now.

But it's too late.

He was arrogant and exaggerated. The succession was drunken enough to win.

How foolish was the resistance of the weak.

Almighty. The excitement of the man who would have crushed the humans and trampled on the castles and cities was finally drawn out of the fierce North and his desire for his kingdom to be built on the rich south.

You would have thought you could break through the defensive line as well.

I don't even know if my troops keep melting.

Who are you, not the king?

I asked again.

Warlord opens his mouth rather than staring at me.

I have been king since the day I was born, and will continue to be king.

One answer in a language other than the roar of the beast for the first time.

This is the same fate that fate has given me.

A voice that doesn't even feel agitated as long as it's a turtle.

I am still king.

I just laughed.

If you are king.

It was a mockery of the arrogant dark green monarch and a tribute to myself.

I've accomplished a lot of things in the past.

Neither of them got mine.

I am the king of swords who has never sat on the throne.

The darkest shadow in the gutter.

Only now was he foolish enough to decide to take it all back.

I am a chancellor.

This is the disillusionment of the incompetent who sits on the throne made of dragon bones.

Hate of the monarch who abandoned the most loyal and brave men,

It was my anger against the warlord who took mine.

[Extraordinary Violence] 's Moohyun poem, [The Poetry of the Losing King].

Not one of the high places, the majestic thrones.

There is nothing that I cannot sit on.

And this is also an enlightenment that I gained by being miserably carried on a cart.

It was the first poem made of salt, not up.

Don't even think about honor.

The flames that were tangled up in the earth froze.

You will die more miserably than the most petty oak

A flame resembling a sidelight became as dark as that of the deep sea.

Gwwwwwww!

Warlord roars.

The red energy tangled in his spear appears to be shattering the whole world.

The Hummings of the Swordsmen continued without rest. Their dancing voice fluttered.

The Swordsmen retreated in unison.

None of this is true. Herd

Gunne sent me a hand urgently.

Barbie turns her head rather than looking at her moving hands.

I focused solely on the cold that seemed to freeze the soul that came from my fingertips.

It's been a long time.

Now I seem to be intact.

Because this cold is the most similar to my nature born in the land of the cold.

Gwwwww!

Warlord's speculation was aimed solely at me.

Killing only one of me was a desperate attack, as if this battle were over.

But he should not forget.

My salt was not mine alone, and this battle was not mine alone.

Fresh!

I heard blunt noises that were enough to be called septic. Nofo, who had just completed the deployment, was a projectile shot from across the river.

"Black Horseman!"

Under the falling rain of steel, knights led by the lone knight ran.

"Charge!"

Knights gather the energy of their necessity at the end of the window and listen to the Red Energy.

A reckless assault that would have been without Warlord's malice and murder.

But I had no intention of losing them as helplessly as I did in the past.

"I cut the dragon's scales, and drink its hot blood, which no mortal can cut off. "

Sing "The Poetry of the True Dragon."

Extraordinary horrors and wars.

There was once again an amusement about the myth.

The whole world has turned blurred in the pain of tearing hearts and scattering souls.

In that world, only the lustrous trajectory shines darkly.

A dark blue line crosses the middle of the red energy. And the Red Sea split.