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

Once you face a wonder, you can never go back to the past (2)

“No, Uncle, they are not.”

“Such a pity. Will you pass on the Muhunshi technique?”

“I don’t know. The user needs stabler and faster mana to use it. It is also forgotten if you know Mana Heart.”

It was strange that Gori’s knights had not yet tried to restore Muhunshi, claiming it as theirs. The had had four-hundred years to do so. Even a Muhunshi that did not reach the level of [myth] or [hero poem] was still powerful. The poetry of Muhunshi was treated as cheap songs nowadays. Either way, many geniuses had tried and failed to combine Gori and Muhunshi.

The stern eyes of my Uncle fell upon me, and I saw understanding bloom within them.

“Hmmm, I see now,” he said in all seriousness, with me barely containing a chuckle. I had been on this earth for some time and reflected upon the knowledge and experience I had gained throughout that period. Many possibilities swirled around within my head, yet one answer came to the fore: “The elves shall change their mind once they sing Muhunshi.”

My Uncle frowned at this mention of the elven folk. There was a comparison that could be drawn between the elves and the knights. As the knights stored mana in rings, the elves used their bodies to store mana. None of them stored their mana or karma in their hearts.

“They cannot write poems, only recite those created by others. Yet, the power of their verses can still be a terrible thing to witness.”

They could not reach transcendence through poetry, yet could still channel great power through it. This was because they had what was called ‘Gummu’.

They admired Muhunshi, for it was a rhythmic sword dance like no other. This could be seen when considering [Dancing Magic Swordsman, Sigrun]

Sigrun, for that very reason, was called the Dancing Demoness Swordfighter. My Uncle was still mulling over these new concepts.

“And it is possible to write a new poem as one sings it?” He finally asked.

“For me, perhaps, though this would be so chaotic that they would need to be echoed through rings set up at a certain resonant frequency. I would rather leave these feats to the knights and the elves. You know I have chosen to follow the path of power from within the heart.”

I could see that Arwen was also deep in thought, considering the facets of resonance and performance. She wore two rings and was eager to learn more about their use. A universe full of possibilities stretched before her like a forest filled with hidden trees of knowledge.

Adelia did not seem to be following the thread of conversation, rather giving me anxious glances from time to time, her concern at my health evident. I held a slight smile as I appreciated her unwavering loyalty.

Meanwhile, Arwen and my Uncle remained locked deep in their own thoughts. I idly wondered when I would be left at peace in my own room.

* * *

Arwen was the first to leave, her thoughts having reached a conclusion. My Uncle remained, as did Adelia, who had begun dozing off in her chair. My breathing was still somewhat painful, so I had to talk less. I gave my Uncle a glance, then began studying the world outside from the adjacent window.

The soldiers went about their business, under constant supervision by the commanders and their shouted orders. I watched the activity, as well as the winter landscape, for some time before falling into a comfortable sleep.

When I finally awoke, a fire was crackling within the hearth.

My Uncle was nowhere in sight. Adelia was sleeping next to me, drool dripping from her mouth as she snored away in peace.

“Adelia, wake up,” I said, nudging her shoulder with my elbow. She dreamily sat up, wiping the spittle from her face. She reached for an ewer on the bed-stand, pouring a glass of water and handing it to me. I drank it greedily.

“Where’s my Uncle?”

“He has just left,” she replied, fixing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Did anything new happen while I was asleep?”

“Oh, nothing to get out of bed for,” was her idle response.

Tcha. I clucked my tongue, not too disappointed that I still had time to lay in bed.

“Not every moment needs to be one of enlightenment, or meaningful action. To create a new path through simple words: Isn’t that the goal of the superhuman?”

“There are many paths leading into the future,” she answered, not completely grasping my words yet still responding in a manner that showcased her fine wit.

Muhunshi was the miracle of my being, and the Warlord the current mystery that I sought to unravel. After some time, my Uncle returned.

“You are awake,” were his only words. I glanced at Adelia, for something had clearly happened while we had slept. His eyes were pinched in worry, his entire body stiff as if expecting danger at any given moment. Yet, my own mood had improved after resting.

I sat up, feeling relaxation embrace my body and a benevolent generosity enter my heart. I gave a short chuckle. My mirth got its source in the simple fact that my Uncle seemed more regal and capable than ever before. Recent events had kindled within him stone-like bravery; his soul and body have reached the balance of a true swordmaster. While he was a blank, a man without mana or karma, his skill more than made up for this.

“Congratulations, Uncle. I see something has changed within you.”

He bowed low. “My gratitude, Your Majesty. It was you who opened my eyes to the truth that I refused to see before. Thank you, Ian.”

My heart leapt with joy, for this had been the first time my Uncle had called me by my true name. I ran a sweaty hand through my hair in embarrassment, which in turn elicited a hearty guffaw from my Uncle.

“For a man who never changes, only the arms of death await.” I blurted out, unsure as to where the words had come from.

“You seem upset, Ian.”

“No, Uncle, I do not believe I am.”

I touched my four-hundred-year-old sword. I had now become a sword expert, no longer being a sword master. Grumpiness was too simple a term for my current mood.

“Why did you come here?” I asked of him, my displeasure at his casual familiarity plain.

“There is something that’s been bothering me, Your Majesty.”

My stomach gave a pained growl. “What is it, Uncle?”

His head turned toward the distant snow-capped peaks.

“I must end whatever lies in wait there. I want to march in as soon as possible.” I knew that he sought to end the reign of the Warlord.

“By the God… I once saved a woman from drowning, yet even after she had regained her life, all could plainly see that she had given up. This was what I dreamed of last night. I knew I should end this right away.”

I raised my hand, stopping my Uncle before he could embarrass himself further.

“The Warlord will be mine to defeat, Uncle.”

He laughed at my words, stating: “Very well, he is yours then.”

My statement was uttered in all seriousness, yet I saw in his eyes that he did not respect my conclusion.

* * *

It was then that he asked me questions that had surely been bothering him for some time now.

“Many things are still left unanswered. How is it that you are so knowledgeable about the Orcs? I also know, Your Majesty, that you have spoken with elves before. You seem to know about their lore.”

I considered his words, thinking back upon the time when I had stolen the Founding King’s Dragon Slayer. I thought of the many books to be found in this world and the knowledge they had gifted me.

“I believe I will tell you when the time comes, Uncle.”

His eyes bore into me. I could see the loyalty within his heart, yet his gaze still sent shivers down my spine. At times, people changed too much, and I wondered what personal hell my Uncle was going through at this very moment.

In that instant, the castle erupted with noise. Laughing voices, frantic orders, and excited cheers were all punctuated by the battle horn that once more signaled the dawn of battle.

“You must rest and become well, Your Majesty,” said my Uncle as he adjusted his sheath.

“No… I will join you. You need me to be able to explain the situation to you.”

He merely nodded and left the room as I hastily dressed and ran after him; my arm was still throbbing in pain.

Once upon the ramparts, I saw that the Rangers had all gathered already, bows at the ready, and their gazes set upon the snowfield.

The great Orcish army spanned the horizon. Most of their weapons were crude, yet all saw that they had trundled great siege machines into their ranks.

This was troubling. A giant Orc stood among the others. His size was greater than the Orc boss I had just defeated, and a bloody flag danced in the wind behind him.

“Is that the Warlord?” asked my Uncle, keeping his voice low.

I shook my head.

“I think he’s the spearhead of the Warlord’s assault, one of his most combat corps commanders. He is a Night Slayer.”