I Became the First Prince

[I was made aware of the dip of quality in the last 3 chapters and have replaced the editor + rewriter.
I hope this chapter is better.
I would appreciate feedback on the Discord.
Best regards.]

Suddenly, A Severe Winter Was Coming (1)

Tok Tok.
Tok Tok.

Pecking the glass with its beak, the bird took a step back.
It seemed as if it was gesturing for me to open the window.

Even though I felt quite lazy and not all inclined to do so, I finally opened it, for I had a nagging suspicion about who had sent this weird bird.

With the window opened, the bird flew into my chamber, perching itself on the edge of a chair.
It stared at me with its beady eyes and opened its beak.

[Did you like the gift I sent?]

The fresh and melodic voice that penetrated my mind was that of a person very familiar to me.
This damned bird was a messenger from that filthy elder high elf.

“What gift?”

As it spoke in her voice, Sigrun’s messenger turned its gaze towards an Orcish weapon I had claimed as battle-loot.

Only then did I comprehend what gift she had bestowed upon me.
I frowned in disgust at the bird.

“So, it was your doing.”

[I merely wished for Your Majesty to face a greater challenge.]

“It doesn’t matter.
I find it abominable that you drove a hundred fierce Orcs onto the battlefield, and left hundreds to die at the end!”

[I implore Your Majesty, I wish for you to be pleased with my heart through this.]

Her voice was so much like that of a young child, whispering in its search for praise.
In it, there was no sign of mourning nor sorrow for the dozens of Rangers who had died while fighting.

I was reminded of why I was not too fond of elves, for I knew better than anyone how their favors worked.
However, there was another reason why any interest shown by elves was even more terrible.
It was because they were severe voyeurs.

[Such hatred towards the entire Greenskin clan… I’m very impressed.]

Sigrun had evidently been watching me from somewhere.

Perhaps she had borrowed a bird’s eye as she was doing now, or maybe another beast’s eyes.
Worse, she could have been watching me with my own eyes.

Either way, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
It felt horrifying to find out that a thousand-year-old maniacal elf was skulking about, spying on me.

My head was throbbing.
I rubbed my scorching temple furiously.
There was nothing more useless than getting angry at Elves.
They never understood or sympathized with other people’s anger, seeming to enjoy it greatly whenever someone grew mad at their actions.

“Don’t talk any more nonsense.
Just tell me why you’ve come.”

[Why must you be so cold?]

Looking at the bird with its head bowed as if it were grinning, my face grew stiff.

[I’m a little bit hurt by your harshness, but what else can I do? Since it’s quite obvious that my feelings are currently unrequited, I’ll just wait for the day where you’ll return my feelings.]

She could wait forever for all I cared.
Such a day would never come.

“Hah… Hahahaha!”

As I laughed, the bird stared once more at me and opened its mouth.

[There is something I need to tell you about, deep within the mountain range.]

I didn’t answer.
I did not wish to be swayed by Sigrun’s words.

However, my resolve only lasted for a while.

[A very ancient being is slumbering there.]

As she continued, my ears perked up as interest overcame my pride.

[If you write about him in song, I bet it will be a cool poem!]

The bird happily cawed when it noticed my interest.
Yet, its shape was gradually starting to fall apart.

[I’m afraid this little creature’s time has come.]

The chirping bird’s beak began to crack, blood flowing down it.
Its eyeballs expanded, almost to the bursting point.

[So then, until we meet again…]

The body of the bird was bloating rapidly until it finally burst apart with a squelching sound.

Flesh and feathers spattered all across my room.
I reached out and deftly caught one of them.
What was a beautiful bird mere moments ago was now bits of meat.

“Wonderful Shira…”

Elder high elves were seldom so casual as to talk about these nasty poems.
So I concluded that the being inside the mountain range was at least heroic.

“Be a hero…”

I already knew why she was giving me this information.
She was hoping to enjoy a deeper taste of me in three years.
The greater the quality of my poems, the better they tasted.
Her intentions were clear.

You may sing, but you cannot create a new song.

You may recite, but you cannot write a new poem.

The elves were a race that could never be an audience, a reciter, and a speaker.

This Elder High Elf Sigrun was hoping for a new song.

“This time, I’ll match the beat.”

I was willing to go through with it and made my decision then and there.

* * *

As always, the day was terrifying.
Adelia visited my room.

“Your Majesty?”

When she saw me sitting on the sofa, she tilted her head.
Then she saw the white feathers and viscera all over the place.
Her eyes widened as she stood stock still, gazing at the bird’s remains.

As she took it in, her eyes somehow stretched even wider in a face now deathly pale.

“Adelia, can you clean it up?”

She picked up the Juseom Juseom feather and put it in one place.
Then she hesitated for a while and wrapped the bird’s body in cloth.

I watched her quietly as she cleaned.

I had a feeling of reconfirming what kind of beings the elves would use to look through.

With Adelia’s help, I washed my face and got dressed.
She then threw on her furs and left the room.

It was then that I headed to the barracks in search of Vincent.

He was within the Ranger’s quarters.

“Your Majesty, how can I help you?”

Vincent had bowed his head slightly.
It was a briefer greeting than when we had first met, but it felt far more sincere.

To me, it seemed as if he was respecting a comrade who had fought at his side.

“Tell me about the beasts that live within the mountains, Vincent.”

Orc, Goblin, Gnoll, Kobold: The names of many forms of monsters he told me.
Yet, none of them stood out in my mind.

These lesser beasts could never be the topic of a heroic poem.

“Are there more within the mountain itself?”

When I asked this question, Vincent became wary all of a sudden.

“The Rangers travel the mountains a lot Your Majesty, yet we all prefer not to enter it.
None of those who have dared to enter have managed to get out alive.
I’m guessing that some of the things down there make Orcs look like kittens,” he replied.

“Is there really not one man who has returned?”

“There are none.
Even the best rangers never enter the caverns.
Their mission is to exterminate the monsters that came down from the mountain.
They are soldiers, not explorers.”

I mulled over his words for some time.

“So, no man has ever returned.
Does this mean we have no knowledge of what’s inside?”

“That is correct.”

I implored him again to share even the smallest of facts, yet his answer remained the same.
The interior spaces of the mountain range remained a complete mystery.

“I thought there were no mysteries left, yet here we still have one.”

Most wonders of this world have long since been explained and categorized by knights who traveled the world, seeking transcendence.

Powerful heterogeneous beings were exterminated, and the ban that did not allow humans to kick was conquered.

Yet here, one of those beings remained.
Coming to Balahard seemed to have been an excellent decision.

“I am merely informing you, Your Majesty.”

I was locked in my thoughts until I heard him speak again.

“Do not think about going inside the mountains, Your Majesty.
Do you hear me? Do not enter.”

* * *

After that day, a couple more subjugation campaigns were conducted.
I did not participate in any of them.
Fighting lesser monsters did not hold my interest.

My thoughts were all directed towards the exploration of the mountain range.

What manner of beast lived within?

Just imagining its nature made my heart pound with excitement.

Perhaps it was the Orcish King, whose line was believed to have been cut off 400 years ago, or maybe it was something else entirely.

Either way, it would be a very pleasant meeting.

I repressed my desire to dive into those caverns right away.
I knew I was not ready.

More battles and more victories were needed to realize my true character, becoming the ideal that was almost within my grasp.

Fortunately, Balahard was the best place on the continent for a man seeking battle.
It would not be difficult to find the victory I wished for here.

One afternoon in the warm sun, a rare thing in midwinter, I heard the sound of a horn.

Aaaooow Wooo!

A Ranger who had been napping in the sunlight jumped up, grabbed his bow, and called to his friends.
He then told the soldier blowing the horn to shut up.

Aaaooow Woo!

This second blast awoke the soldiers still sleeping.

“Oh shit! We got trouble, lads!” One of them hollered.

The soldiers who had not slept all ceased what they were doing.
They ran towards the wall, all of them knowing that it was the place to be at.
A rough wooden door swung open as Rangers poured out of the barracks.

Passing by me, they ran down the stairs as birds in flight.
Beneath the olds, the soldiers who had grabbed swords and spears were trembling in front of the city gate.
Orders soon filled the air.

“My squad of crossbowmen are in position!”

“Order troops outside the castle!”

The range commanders donned their veils and made sharp sounds accordingly.
Hyo-shi flew in all directions.

“I need more arrows here!”

“Someone got rid of the dialysis collection!”

“Move faster, you scum!”

From atop the stairs, I saw the soldiers and commanders employing their armaments.

“Boil the oil first, you dolt!”

The castle’s air was resounding with battle lust and martial language.

“Your Majesty!” Arwen called to me.
My uncle had also sent someone to summon me.

“Where is he?”

“Mr.
Balahard is on the wall!”

I climbed the stairs with all due haste.

Countless rangers were atop the ramparts, each equipped with a crossbow or bow.
They stared beyond the walls, not a single one moving.

And among them, there was my foreign uncle.

“Uncle! What is going on?”

“Look over there,” my uncle simply said from his seat atop the gatehouse wall.
He then pointed towards an area between the snowfield and the nearby mountain.

I strained my eyes to see what he saw: A white object in the distance.

“Ah… What is…!”

Then, twelve shadows came running through the pure white snow.
They were the rangers of Balahard.

They wore cracked and battered armor, held broken swords and shields, and ran at such a pace as to suggest swift pursuit.

Poof… Poof… Poof…

Bright red traceries erupted in the sky behind them as flares were fired from various points within the mountain.

This was the beginning.

Poof… Poof…

Mighty horns echoed their call throughout the castle, greeting the sound and sight of the flares tearing up the sky.

I watched as Rangers on the wall shifted nervously, their breaths became more stressed with every second.
There was a wild impatience within their eyes as they watched their comrades traverse the distant snowfield.

“Come on, ye bastards!”

“Run! Run Quickly!” Such shouts of encouragement erupted from a few of them.

Upon hearing the cheers of their comrades, the rangers accelerated their pace.

It was at that very moment that a huge wolf appeared just behind them.

“It’s a Wolf Rider!”

And there, atop the wolf, was a great, green Orc.

“Come on lads, just a little bit more!”

The Rangers on the walls readied their bows.

“It’s still too far out on the snow, lads!”

The commanders calmed down the excited rangers, not wishing to see the arrows wasted.

More riders now joined the hunt.

Aaahooooo! Aaahooooo!

Their wolves howled with a bestial ferocity as they increased their pace.
The gap between Rangers and Wolf Riders running was swiftly narrowing.

Aaahooooooooo!

Several of the rearmost rangers suddenly spun around.
They would try to earn time for the others to escape, bravely readying their weapons and meeting the Wolf Riders head-on.

Yet, the Wolf Riders crushed them easily, great jaws biting down while the Orcs merrily hacked away with their weapons.
Blood and viscera spattered onto the snow as the Rangers fell to the monsters.

The surviving Rangers started running again yet soon halted.
They had realized that running from the Wolf Riders was futile, and faced their deaths.

Only

“No! Don’t stop! You fools!”

“Come! It isn’t too far off! Come on lads!”

The Rangers on the wall were shouting hoarsely, some were almost in tears.

Those still on the snow grabbed their broken swords and shattered shields, rushing madly toward the Wolf Riders.

Their lives ended vibrantly, much like red flowers blooming over the snowy field.

The frantic encouragements that the Rangers had moments ago shouted out slowly faded as reality dawned on all.
They slowly lowered their bows, not a single arrow or bolt fired as the range had never been there.

Thud!

It was only the booming sound of the closing gate that broke the sorrowful silence.