Chapter 165 - The Roaring Lions of the North (4)

Vincent knew better than anyone that his talent fell short of his father's.

But he was not disappointed.

He was not a knight, but a lord, and a lord had a lord's duties to fulfill.

He considered that to be enough.

He simply suppressed the urge to pick up his sword and tangle with the monsters.

It was not easy, but he managed to adapt to the duties of a lord.

Lately, however, his resolve had been wavering.

"Is it frustration?"

At some point, his heart had started beating like crazy. Heat surged within him as if a fireball had erupted inside. His hand kept reaching for his sword hilt.

He wanted to draw his sword and charge out right that instant.

The heat was too intense to simply write off as lingering knightly instincts.

He firmly suppressed all those emotions and did not let them show.

He grabbed a baton instead of a sword and stayed faithful to his role.

Even when he signaled the sortie, bolstered by the Dwarves' joining and the Central Army's remarkable performance, he had sufficient grounds as a lord.

If the mountains of corpses piled high by the monsters were not cleared, they could not utilize the advantage of the walls. They had to break the enemy's momentum before friendly casualties accumulated from the fierce offensive. Furthermore, the Prince had said that the sooner the enemy leader was drawn out, the sooner this war would end.

And in his judgment, now was the valid time that met all those reasons.

So he shifted to the offensive without hesitation.

He thought it was an extremely rational and sound judgment.

But it seemed he was mistaken.

From far away, he could hear the Prince shouting for them to retreat several times.

An adjutant beside him reported that the soldiers of the Northern allied forces had fallen into chaos due to Orcs suddenly appearing from beneath the ground.

He also informed him that their retreat path was blocked.

"We will crush the enemy's main force as we are and then return!"

The vast majority of the monsters were in the midst of turning back and fleeing. The only ones blocking the friendly forces right now were a war legion of Orcs, which was but a tiny fraction of the whole.

It was a rare opportunity to completely crush the enemy's main force.

Instead of collapsing alongside the soldiers of the Northern allied forces, he decided to scatter the enemy first and then withdraw.

However, it seemed that was also a wrong judgment.

"Vincent!"

The face of the Prince, who had belatedly appeared on the battlefield, was uncharacteristically urgent.

Leaping up high with his sword raised, he showed none of his usual composure.

A massive forearm shot out from beneath Vincent's feet.

He swung his sword with all the energy he could muster, but the sword light scattered all too easily before the red energy wrapping that forearm.

Faced with this ferocious energy, Vincent finally realized the reality of the situation.

Everything he had thought of as rational judgment was merely an excuse.

Deploying the troops, and a guy who was supposed to be a lord jumping into the battlefield—it was all because of this ferocious energy.

This energy had drawn him all the way here.

He only realized this fact now.

He was given no time to chew over his regrets.

SHOVE.

Someone shoved his body away.

FLASH.

While being sent flying backward, he saw a golden sword light.

Within it was a woman radiating distinctly colored rays of light.

SWOOOSH.

The red Fighting Spirit swallowed the woman up.

CRACKLE.

At that moment, along with a noise from the sky like something grinding its teeth, a blinding flash of lightning struck down.

CRASH!

A deafening roar erupted.

Everything happened in an absolute flash.

Thus, even as he rolled across the ground, he could not immediately comprehend what had just happened to him.

When he belatedly regained his senses, he was sprawling on the ground, staring at the back of someone who was blocking the way in front of him.

"My heart nearly dropped."

A voice full of anger dug into his ears.

"To lose someone in vain, once is enough."

The Prince's sharp rebuke snapped him back to his senses.

Only then did he realize that he had fallen into the enemy's trap, and that he had narrowly escaped death thanks to the Prince.

"Do not blame yourself."

Just as he was about to fall into a sense of shame over his repeated misjudgments, the Prince spoke, saying who would have ever known that a guy who was the King of Orcs would be hiding in a snowfield.

"Besides, it is fine since we dragged out the one who was hiding away so thoroughly thanks to this. Leave the rest to me now."

Beyond the Prince, a massive Orc rose to its feet.

Its half-melted body was indescribably hideous; it was the King of Orcs, whose insidiousness the Prince had spoken of time and again.

"Go and command the knights. Since you have drawn your sword, you must trample them thoroughly."

Before he could say anything, the Prince pushed his back.

"Hurry up!"

Vincent hesitated.

His feet simply would not move.

He could not tell if it was out of concern for the Prince, or because of that unknown energy that was constantly provoking him.

He simply gritted his teeth and followed the Prince's order.

"I will return shortly! Please hold on just a little longer!"

Saying so, he forced his heavy steps away.

* * *

Confirming that Vincent had left the area, I let out a sigh of relief.

My heart was still pounding.

For fear that I might lose Vincent as well, just like my maternal uncle.

For fear that something might go wrong with my dear Adelia.

For fear that the men of the North gathered here might fall in vain.

I was so startled that it felt as if every drop of blood in my body had drained away.

But Vincent survived, and although Adelia had been sent flying far away, she did not seem to have any particular injuries.

The Northern allied forces in the rear were also quickly restoring order thanks to the active efforts of the old knight and the Heavy Armored Musketeers.

I felt relieved. And that relief soon turned into unbearable rage.

"For a mere Orc, you really pull all sorts of stunts."

I had never even imagined that a guy claiming to be a king would hide his body in the snowfield and lay an ambush.

No matter how much of a coward he was for fleeing from a Fire Dragon, I thought he would at least have the bare minimum pride an Orc warrior ought to possess.

But he had nothing.

Neither the pride of a warrior, nor the dignity of a king.

He was merely a coward who had survived for a long time.

GRRRR.

Such a bastard was looking down at me arrogantly.

As if telling the tale of how he had been hiding his body in the snowfield until just a moment ago, snow covered his shoulders and head.

To me, that looked exactly like a king's crown and mantle.

A hollow crown and mantle that would soon melt and disappear when rain fell or the blazing sun beat down.

『You are no king.』

With my mouth, I denied his existence, and in my heart, I envisioned an empty throne.

『The high places, the solemn thrones (寶座)—not a single one of them is mine.』

『Yet there is not a single one that I cannot sit upon.』

The [Poem of the Supreme King] resonated within my mind.

At the same time, the status and spirit I had been suppressing were unleashed upon the world.

The Overlord, Urdu, looked at me.

At first, it was merely curiosity.

It was a feeling no more than curiosity as to where such a human had popped out from.

But that curiosity soon turned into suspicion, and suspicion turned into disbelief.

And finally, it became sheer astonishment.

『I am curious.』

Looking at that face, I spoke languidly.

『Whether you have grown weaker than in the past, or if it is I who has grown stronger.』

From a distance, the Overlord's presence had felt so overwhelmingly powerful.

But now that I was facing his status right in front of me, the spirit contained within it fell short of my expectations.

『It would be perfect if it were the latter, but it is probably the former.』

I sneered at him.

The Overlord who had shoved his sky-high spirit into the gutter by fleeing before the Fire Dragon.

Such a guy was nothing more than a mere old Orc who had lived an awfully long time.

I raised my sword.

『Even a Heroic Poem is too much for a bastard like you.』

A single verse of an extraordinary song, which the pitiful avenger had failed to complete, would be enough.

Blue flames clung to Dusk.

I readjusted my grip on the sword with both hands and twisted my waist.

WOOOONG.

And then, before he could even react, I unleashed a slash.

SWOOOSH!

A blue trajectory appeared before my eyes.

He stumbled backward, dodging my slash.

『You are dodging again?』

At my words full of mockery, he stealthily aimed his spear at me.

However, his gaze was not on me.

His rolling red eyes scanned all directions.

Thinking he was trying to employ some ridiculous trick again, I quickly closed the distance to him, but he suddenly threw his body backward.

And then, without even looking back, he ran away with loud, thudding footsteps.

I was left dumbfounded.

Because I had never even considered the possibility that he would turn around and flee.

But soon, I twisted the corners of my mouth and laughed.

Having sensed my presence that soared to the ends of the sky, my Masters were running toward this location.

From behind, the old knight who had finished off the Orcs was running over, and from both sides, Arwen and Eli were rushing in. And right close by, Adelia, having shaken off the shock of the first clash, was chasing after him while flaring her sword light.

There were Masters in every direction.

There was nowhere for him to run.

BOOM! BOOM!

Deafening roars erupted from the direction he had disappeared. Flashing golden light filled the vicinity.

I moved my steps toward that spot.

Adelia was unleashing a barrage of slashes against the Overlord.

The Overlord brandished his spear.

Proving he was still formidable even in decline, his strike sent Adelia flying backward.

But who was she?

She was a maniac who never knew how to stop once she tasted blood.

She soon kicked off the ground again and charged at the Overlord. And while she kept the Overlord occupied, the Masters arrived.

"If we just catch this bastard, does this damn war end?!"

Eli charged at him, scattering sword light that resembled a crescent moon.

"I will join in."

Arwen attacked him, pouring out streams of sword light as radiant as starlight.

"A joint attack does not suit my temperament, but if bending my pride can save a thousand soldiers, what is there to hesitate about!"

The old knight also charged at him, gathering pure white light.

ROAAAAR!

The Overlord howled and wildly swung his spear in all directions. Red Fighting Spirit rose like a fortress wall, surrounding his vicinity.

The sword lights poured out by the Masters battered that red wall indiscriminately.

However, although his sky-high spirit had been shoved into the gutter, his innate immense strength and Fighting Spirit remained exactly the same, so the wall did not easily collapse.

Just then, a real fortress appeared.

"To think the opportunity to stain my axe with the blood of the dark green king would come! If old man Tur-ka knew, he would beat the ground in envy!"

It was the Dwarf who wore iron armor he had crafted with his own hands like a fortress wall, Meister Surka.

Laughing heartily, Surka boldly rammed his body into the red Fighting Spirit.

CRASH!

With a deafening roar, the red Fighting Spirit fluctuated.

At the charge of a Dwarf who did not even reach his knees, the Overlord stumbled backward with loud thuds.

"The tougher it is, the better it tastes to smash it!"

This time, Surka readjusted his grip on his axe and struck down at the Fighting Spirit.

Simultaneously, the Masters unleashed their sword strikes in unison.

CRACK.

A crack formed on the solid wall.

And under the successive attacks, it shattered in no time.

ROAAAAR!

The Overlord howled, swinging his spear wildly in all directions.

However, he could not force a single person gathered here to step back.

THUD.

Arwen, whose pauldron had been torn off, struck her sword down.

THUD.

Eli, whose breastplate had been shattered, slashed his sword from left to right.

CRASH.

With her hair disheveled, Adelia leaped high into the air and swung her sword upward from below.

"Have a taste of a Dwarf's axe!"

Rolling across the ground, Surka chopped down on the top of the Overlord's foot.

SLASH, SLASH, STAB, THWACK.

Various distinct noises leaked out in succession.

The Overlord's entire body was quickly dyed deep red.

He howled fiercely and pushed back the Masters and the Dwarf.

Against the desperate, spiteful flailing of a wounded beast, the Masters and the Dwarf dared not strike back and retreated.

GRRRRR.

The bloodied Overlord growled lowly in his throat.

He threw away his spear.

And then, he lowered his posture as if his knees would touch the ground at any moment.

The posture of him placing both hands on the ground was so dynamic that it looked as if he would abruptly kick off the ground and charge.

But he neither kicked off the ground, nor did he charge at the Masters.

THUD.

His knees touched the ground.

In that exact state, he looked at me and shouted.

『Brave knights of humanity!』

His red eyes blazed fiercely, and his lip-less mouth twisted hideously.

『Paying my respects to your valor! I, Urdu, the Legion Commander of the Furious Flame Legion and the Overlord uniting twenty-three tribes, concede defeat!』

Just like that, he surrendered with grand vigor.

『If you are proud knights such as yourselves! I trust you know the courtesy owed to a surrendered commander (降將) who has admitted defeat!』

I was so utterly baffled.