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

Chapter 118
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As It Is Known, Like A Frenzy (2)

Siorin was praying to the gods.

‘Vsoo!’ the imperial knight’s sword began to cry. One moment later, the knight’s sword had an aura. The sword was finely forged, and the aura itself was clear and stable. The energy coming from it felt fierce, even ferocious.

It looked like the knight had become incensed by the first prince’s provocation.

In contrast, Arwen’s appearance was rather shabby. Let alone her lack of a sword aura; she had not even readied her sword. She just stood there, her sword hanging in her grip.

To her father’s eyes, her chances at victory looked precariously slim.

Siorin stared at the first prince, who could be said to be the cause of the incident, and told him, “If there is a problem due to this duel-“

“It won’t happen,” the first prince said in a careless tone before Siorin could speak any further. The prince then added that Arwen would never lose, and he said so in a strangely convinced tone.

Siorin became more uncomfortable with the situation. How could the prince still be so arrogant after he had brought such a situation about?

Still, Siorin’s anger did not last long. Now, rather than anger, it was time for him to worry about the well-being of his daughter as she squared off against the imperial knight.

Siorin studied the situation carefully. If his daughter was faced with even the slightest amount of danger, he was going to stop the battle immediately. As a father, he never wanted to see his daughter bleed.

However, as he listened to the room, he realized he was alone in his nervousness.

“Sir Arwen is more advanced now.”

“Compared to the last time I saw her in Winter Castle, she has definitely deepened her skill.”

Siorin heard the whispers of the Templar Knights. Their attitudes were as easy-going as that of the first prince. None of them were concerned about Arwen.

“He’s already lost this one, poor fool.”

There were even those who pitied the imperial knight. Siorin remained impressed by the energy of the imperial knight and thought that it was dangerous. The Templars said it was like the barking of 10,000 small dogs, and laughed.

“Arwen is the second strongest in the delegation,” one of them said.

Siorin could only roll his eyes at such a statement, but still asked the deputy-commander of the Templars, “Second? So, you are saying that the only person stronger than Arwen is you, Sir Erhim?”

“Unfortunately, I am not the first,” Erhim said as he shook his head with a bitter smile, gazing for a moment at the first prince. He then said that the private knights of the first prince were above him. Siorin realized that he must be the only one in the delegation who did not know the ability and disposition of its knights.

Erhim’s statements meant that some present were stronger than the deputy-commander of the elite Templar Knights, said to be the best in the kingdom. It was hard to believe that Arwen, who had only been an apprentice until two years ago, was stronger than that.

Siorin truly struggled to believe this. But whether he believed it or not, the situation gradually played out just like the Templars had said it would.

The imperial knight had raised his vast amounts of mana, and yet his forehead soon began to sweat profusely. In contrast, Arwen’s face looked no different from when the duel had started.

She suddenly turned her head and moved her lips, lower than a whisper, forming the words ‘Tell me what you want.’

The first prince answered by saying, “Thoroughly smash him.”

Siorin had barely recognized his daughter then. She gave a small nod toward the prince and swung her sword.

‘Jirkif!’

As she pressed forward, the imperial knight stumbled back.

‘Prufak!’

The imperial knight ground his teeth and fixed his sword before him.

“How dare you speak so silently as we fight!” he exclaimed and then thrust his legs forward as he sliced his sword in a horizontal arc.

‘Suuk!’

Propelled by the momentum of his pounce, his blade swiftly swept toward Arwen’s throat. She easily avoided the attack by ducking beneath it.

‘Shuck!’ as she ducked, she swept her sword toward her opponent along the floor. The imperial knight was unpleasantly surprised and had to escape the attack by hastily jumping backward, not having time to block the blow in the slightest.

That was the beginning.

Arwen repeatedly aimed her strikes at the imperial knight’s lower body. Sometimes she stabbed her sword toward him in an instep, the short jabs forcing him back. At other times she swung her sword as if aiming to sever the tendons above his ankle.

Each time, the imperial knight desperately jerked his feet out of the way as she forced him to step back.

“Dae, what the hell are you doing!” the legion commander demanded from the knight with an angry face.

He had to shout, for a knight of the prideful empire was so publicly being toyed with.

‘Swik! Swit!’

Every time that Arwen moved her blade, the imperial knight had to jump. To the onlookers, it looked like the man was drunk, sobbing, and dancing all at once.

“How can you allow a knight of the kingdom to be joking around with you this way, Dae!?”

The legion commander then went on to say that Arwen was a shameless person who did not know how to respect the honor of her fellow knights.

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“The empire’s knights should train harder in defending their nether regions. It’s because of such a lack of training that your man is helpless,” the first prince replied in a mocking tone.

“Woah!” the imperial knight cried as he struck at his foe. He was conscious of his angry commander, so he had disregarded Arwen’s sword sweeping in at his lower body and had struck down with force. It was a blow that showed his clear willingness to split open his opponent’s skull, even if it cost him a leg.

“Arwen!” Siorin shouted in fear.

Unlike her father, Arwen had remained calm. She didn’t dodge the sword that was flying toward her skull, nor did she attempt to withdraw her own sword mid-swing. She simply twisted the wrist of her free hand, balled up a fist, and punched into the imperial knight’s crotch.

‘Quack!’

Her sword slammed into his leg, and the man keeled back on the spot. His legs kicked into the air as he fell back, onto his head. It went without saying that, even if he still managed to wield his sword, he was no longer able to hit his intended target.

Arwen looked at the imperial knight, who had flipped over almost as if he wished to do a handstand. She then languidly stretched out her muscles, her face expressionless.

‘Drunch, drunch!’ the imperial knight’s legs spasmed as he rolled around on the floor.

He did not scream. He rolled around a bit, and then stopped moving. Other imperial knights rushed to him to check on his status.

As the Templars saw the imperial knights shaking their heads, they cheered.

“Hey, hoh, hoh!”

The imperials were angry.

“Has there ever been such misconduct!”

Their complaints could be heard in the midst of the Templars’ joyous whoops.

“Don’t tell me that knight was the best you have,” the first prince said, throwing sparks onto the oil.

“I’ll deal with her!”

“No! I’ll step up!”

After that, several of the fortress’s knights faced Arwen, one after the other.

De Gaulle was among them, and as an advanced knight, he was looking for any opportunity to make up for his humiliation after that first meeting on the border. There was also a triple-chain knight, one of the best in the fortress.

Not one of them could defeat Arwen.

‘Krak!’

An imperial knight, who had uttered some crudely-worded obscenities toward Arwen, received a broken jaw for his efforts. Some of the knights, who had jeered at her, saying that she was just a woman, got cut in bad places.

Even the fifth knight that faced her, who had stepped up in all seriousness, couldn’t block Arwen’s blade and ended up retching blood onto the floor.

“Next!” came Arwen’s provoking challenge as she called out her next opponent with a grim face.

The Templars were quite enthusiastic, while the imperial knights were swearing and cursing.

Siorin looked around blankly.

He couldn’t figure out if this was the correct way in which to welcome a delegation from another country. And was that woman who stood in the middle of the hall the daughter that he had raised?

“Next!” Arwen boldly shouted after she had blown through her sixth opponent in no time. A hazy smile had by now crept onto her red-flushed face. She was truly a fish that had met water.

The imperial knights continued to step forward to break her winning streak.

Seven, eight, and nine; they too added to her victory tally as they ended up rolling over the floor.

“Next!”

Although Arwen had already gone through nine bouts, she did not look the least bit tired.

“Bring in the paladin,” the legion commander said in a voice that dripped poison.

The heated atmosphere in the banqueting hall froze. Even those Templars who did not know the imperial language had faces that showed their uncertainty of whether they had heard the word ‘paladin’ correctly.

It was a natural reaction; it was so natural.

The empire called their quad-chain knights paladins. In terms that those of the kingdom could understand, summoning a paladin was no different than summoning a gifted Lion to a contest where ordinary knights competed. To exaggerate it to a greater extent, it was like an adult intervening in a fight between children.

This meant that the legion commander’s pride was properly wounded and that he was not planning to end this spectacle with a defeat.

“Arwen,” the first prince said as he came to her.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

Arwen had been preparing herself to face the paladin with a stern face before she had turned to the first prince.

“That’s enough.”

Upon hearing those words, Arwen chewed her lips. She seemed somehow resentful, but she did not reject the first prince’s order.

‘Shuuk,’ she sheathed her sword and returned to her spot after giving a glance at the imperial officials.

“What!?” the legion commander exclaimed.

“That is enough entertainment,” the first prince said, and while the legion commander looked like he would have a seizure, the prince added, “It wouldn’t be that honorable to win against a tiring knight.”

Upon hearing those words, the legion commander became stupefied by the truth. It was only then that he realized that a single knight of the kingdom had won nine battles with nary a pause.

“Then what about the other knights? I don’t think any of Your Highness’s knights can match her level,” the commander almost begged the prince to continue the duels.

“Entertainment should always end in an entertaining fashion. If we fight more now, we might end up hurting each other’s feelings,” came the first prince’s shameless answer, for he had provoked the challenge in the first place. The drunken face of the legion commander had turned quite red by now, and it was a face that seemed as if it would explode at any time.

At that moment, the first prince touched his chest, which was an extremely unnatural and ridiculous gesture.

Siorin laughed at the prince’s appearance, waiting to see the prince’s intention.

Shit! The prince had taken something from his chest pocket.

“Hey, what is this, do you remember? It’s something that cannot be broken,” the first prince said as he held up a plaque, looking back and forth from it to the commander in an exaggerated fashion.

“What!? How did you get that?”

“I didn’t mean to make it look so deliberate, but it’s the true article,” the prince said, his voice sounding terribly awkward, “When someone happened to visit us from the empire, they gave it to me.”

The words and actions of the prince did not match up, for, despite the naive lilt of his voice, he was holding up a bronzed plaque with the name ‘Montpellier’ etched into it.

“I figured that if I had this, no one here would ignore me. But then, I told myself my worries were useless. Even though I am a prince from a small country, I am still royalty, right? I didn’t know that if I didn’t have a sponsorship like this, people would ignore me.”

The legion commander had shut his mouth.

“He will be here as soon as his preparations are done!” the knight who had left to call the paladin announced to all in obvious elation. The frightened legion commander beckoned the knight over and whispered something into his ear.

The knight looked at the legion commander, and then at the first prince with some perplexity, and then once more left the banqueting hall. In the end, the paladin didn’t show up, and the banquet was over. With the banquet having ended in such a lukewarm manner, Siorin could only give a vain laugh. From the moment that the duel had been confirmed, he had hoped to prevent it. Siorin had wondered as to the best way to end it without sullying the honor of the Leonberger royal family, or the first prince’s pride.

However, his anxiety proved to be useless in the end.

The prince had blatantly used the name of the Montpellier family, naming them as his imperial backers, and he had done it with such confidence that Siorin gradually felt embarrassed.

Well, the prince had done it out of common sense, but he had still done something unimaginable.

But the effect of his actions are clear, and the scenario he had created was daunting.

It seems that his daughter’s words were true: Siorin would be surprised by Prince Adrian no matter what.

It could surely be said that the first prince’s actions were exceptional, and Siorin soon learned that this was but the beginning.

Once the banquet was over, Siorin learned as much when he stood alone with Prince Adrian and told him that it had to take great self-discipline to behave so unexpectedly.

“It’s just the beginning,” the first prince said with a smile and then shared his plans with Siorin.

“But if that is done, Your Highness’s reputation within the empire…” Siorin said in dismay and trailed off, but the first prince wasn’t perturbed.

“Anyway, I can face it, after what I’ve been through in the kingdom. I know this isn’t my country anyway,” the first prince said with a somehow excited face.

At a quick glance, the prince looked like an unbridled foal.

* * *

Annual visits by delegations from the Leonberg Kingdom was no new thing.

What was new was that a member of the royal family had been included on the mission, and that was the only novelty. The emperor and a few nobles were the only ones who really cared about the small country on the outskirts of the empire. No one cared about the envoys from that selfsame country.

As things were, the delegation could disappear into the wastes without anyone really knowing whether they had come or gone.

However, for some unknown reason, there was a lot of talk about the Leonberg mission these days.

“They said that these Leonbergers terribly like to show of the dancing of their knights.”

“Ah, but every noble that is met with suggests a battle between knights, yes? He is a very young man, so he can’t really understand his country’s position.”

Most of the hottest rumors were about the journey of the enemy delegation from the Leonberg Kingdom. The gossip went that the Leonbergers were a royal family that loved to show off their knights and that the prince was eager to appease his vanity without considering the political position of the kingdom.

Wherever he travels, he proposes a battle between his knights and those of the empire. There is no place where he has not caused a furor.

“Because they are a small country, all they can really do is to boast. And even after boasting, if you compare them with our empire, they do not have much to show for themselves.”

The imperial nobles mocked the first prince’s impulsive streak and his pride. They didn’t doubt that his misplaced pride would be squashed under the might of the great Burgundy Empire.

He wasn’t beaten yet, and the rumors the nobles heard were half-truths and not terrifying enough.

The knights of the border fortresses had been defeated by the knights of the prince, one garrison after the other. Every single knight of the 97th Imperial Knights was defeated as well.

It was even said that the famous swordsman, Byeongchang, had suffered a miserable defeat.

The knights of the kingdom – believed to be far inferior and no match for the imperial knights – were winning their duels in streaks.

“Tsu. They are overly proud of their strength in this early phase. Their victories are but flukes.”

“No one is great enough to war against the empire, so our knights have become a bit rusty.”

The nobles had now begun to tut-tut and stick out their tongues at the pathetic display of the imperial knights.

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“How long must we live on this earth and see this prince of the kingdom spitting in the face of our empire?”

“It also possible that these matches are fixed. Are these nobles of the border even aware that they are nobles of Burgundy?”

They now also cursed the nobles on the border, accusing them of playing games and giving the first prince the victories, maybe even to appease him.

“I heard just now, all of Count Anjou’s knights were smashed!”

The gossiping nobles could no longer laugh at those on the border when they heard that the famous Grand Lord, Count Anjou, had also been embarrassed by the knights of the delegation.

Soon after that, even more surprising news came to the ears of the nobles.

“It is said that the Marquis of Montpellier backs the first prince. He has even given the prince the plaque of his family.”

This, in effect, meant an imperial marquis openly supported the first prince.

“Ah! It looks like the Marquis of Montpellier has found a scarecrow prince who will devour the kingdom completely.”

“If the Marquis of Montpellier backs him, does that mean that this first prince will be the only royal man who shall remain in Leonberg?”

They discussed the patronage of Montpellier and figured it part of his schemes to defeat the kingdom. All the knights and nobles agreed on this conclusion with some satisfaction.

“These dueling victories of theirs won’t last long anyway.”

“Aren’t they set to soon arrive in the territory of the Marquis of Yvesinth?”

All the nobles believed that the unlikely victory streak will soon end and be unveiled as the comedy that it truly was. The Marquis of Yvesinth was one of the delegation’s hosts, and he was a great aristocrat and guardian of the realm. He was also one of the few nobles in the empire who had two paladins in his service.

The news soon came that the delegation had reached the holdings of the Marquis of Yvesinth.

All the imperial nobles looked forward to the exciting news that would soon grace their ears.

A few days later, reports came in that the delegation’s knights and the knights of the Marquis of Yvesinth had fought. However, the nature of this news was quite contrary to what the nobles had expected it to be.

“What? The paladins of the Marquis of Yvesinth lost?”

“It seems that the delegation includes a champion of the kingdom! It must!”

The nobles were astonished, astounded, and utterly flabbergasted.

“I cannot believe this. It makes no sense for our paladins to lose, even if there is a champion of the kingdom here.”

The fact that the kingdom’s knights were inferior to those of the empire was something that every imperial noble knew well. It was difficult for the proud nobles of the empire to hear that their great paladins had lost against a champion of the kingdom.

Still, there came even more surprising news.

“What? The official list of envoys does not include a champion of the kingdom?”

They now had to swallow the even harder truth that the paladins had not even been beaten by a champion, by what those in the kingdom called a ‘quad-chain knight.’

The nobility of the empire was now even more embarrassed.

“Then who the hell are they saying defeated our two paladins?”

It was now the time when some of the nobles started paying particular attention to the members of the Leonberg delegation, treating their actions with more seriousness.

Among the above-mentioned group were the imperial principes.

“Is the Marquis of Montpellier crazy!?” one princeps exclaimed as he cursed the marquis for backing the immature prince.

“Wouldn’t we be doing our imperial prestige a favor by stopping such foolishness?”

Some principes said the marquis should be punished appropriately for his close relationship with such a brash prince from a marginal country.

“Now that’s an interesting guy,” one princeps said, showing interest in the prince from Leonberg, who had the Marquis of Montpellier as his guarantor.

“We’re getting ready to leave.”

And then there were those principes who even decided to leave the imperial palace to meet the prince. It was now about three months after the delegation of the Leonberg Kingdom had entered the lands of the empire.

* * *

At the same time that some of the imperial principes began their journey to meet the first prince, the Marquis of Montpellier was staring at a great pile of paper that had been stacked up before him. His face was completely enchanted as he took in the sight of it.

Urgent messages had flown along the imperial lines of communication, and the content of those letters was consistent: They all contained vehement protests.

‘Pwot, pwot.’

At that very moment, the crystal ball started flashing, and the marquis reflexively touched its surface. From it emanated the voice of a high-ranking nobleman, one of the mightiest in the empire.

No! Is that the Marquis of Yvesinth?

It was indeed a greeting from that very man, who had never shown much favor to Montpellier.

“I have activated my emergency contact apparatus to reach you, Montpellier.”

Montpellier could only close his eyes.

What the hell am I doing here!?