The Wastrel Prince Becomes Ruthless Chapter 54

It had been barely twenty minutes since Second Prince Arencar had made his misguided decision. The tide of battle had completely turned.

Just a short while ago, the field had been filled only with the green blood of the orcs—a scene of overwhelming advantage. Now, however, red human blood drenched the ground where orcs and humans lay tangled together in chaos.

Even though the Second Prince’s move had been a mistake, it should not have led to such a desperate situation. The real problem came afterward.

When victory had seemed within sight after a grueling battle, new enemies appeared.

“Th-there…! More enemies are coming!”

A new horde of orcs had emerged!

Shockingly, the newly arrived orcs were even larger than the ones they had been fighting—each one a head taller, their bodies monstrous, as if they had long abandoned any semblance of humanity. Their ferocity was also incomparable to the previous horde.

“Kraaaagh―!”

From afar, the leader of the new orc horde bellowed a beastly cry. The savage roar echoed like that of a wild predator.

‘We have to form a defensive line before they reach us. We barely managed to hold on until now, but if the fight starts all over again in this state, everyone will be in danger.’

Marquis Carson hurriedly shouted an order.

“Cease the advance and regroup with the main force at once―! Fall back!”

“All units―! Retreat! Retreat―!”

With their formation broken and the subjugation army exhausted to the bone, Marquis Carson’s order to retreat was the only sound decision left to make. Yet that choice was not a method to defeat the enemy, but merely a desperate attempt to minimize losses.

The newly arrived orcs, as if avenging their slaughtered kin, charged after the retreating soldiers with terrifying vigor. Having already endured one major battle, the subjugation army had no strength left to repel the enraged pursuit.

“R-run…! Gah―!”

The orcs swept across the battlefield, turning it into a living hell.

“Ghk, kuhk… S-sir, please ru—!”

Thud―!

“Ugh…!”

Luke Swales couldn’t move his feet. Right before his eyes, the head of the attendant who had come with him from his hometown exploded.

With no real combat experience and only superficial training in swordsmanship, Luke froze completely at the surreal scene unfolding before him.

“S-someone save me…! P-please, urk―!”

But the battlefield was never kind to those who froze.

Whoosh―! Crack―!

A rusted iron club struck Luke’s face squarely, caving it in. His head collapsed inward, turning to pulp in an instant—dead without even a scream. The polished helmet he had managed to acquire with great difficulty as a baron’s son did nothing to protect him.

“Kuwooooh―!”

The orc warrior who had just slain another human raised his blood-soaked iron club in triumph. The rusted metal, once brown and dull, now gleamed red with human blood.

And Luke was not the only one. The same gruesome scenes were erupting all across the battlefield. Once the formation broke, the tide of battle swiftly reversed. With their command structure shattered, the subjugation army faced annihilation.

After their solid defensive line collapsed and the fight turned into close-quarters combat, the orcs rampaged wildly as if they had found their true stage. On the other hand, the Houkijisu participants of the subjugation army—who had never experienced such chaos—crumbled rapidly.

Many had volunteered for this mission simply to make a name for themselves, without any real thought or preparation.

Those who hadn’t even been ready to see blood became liabilities in the midst of danger, dragging their comrades down. To cover such mistakes, two or three others were needed—but the subjugation army no longer had the strength to look after anyone else. Defeat loomed heavily.

“Hold the line―! Survival comes before extermination of the enemy! Regroup with scattered allies and form a defensive wall! The Valaris family will come to our aid!”

A cry born of desperation. Obeying the commander’s hoarse roar, the soldiers hastily gathered nearby comrades, forming small defensive rings to withstand the assault. Even that, however, was barely sustainable. Their only hope lay in the distress signals the magicians were firing wildly toward the sky.

“Gaaah―!”

“M-Marquis, p-please save me…! Guhk!”

Not far away—within Marquis Carson’s own sight—imperial Houkijisu participants were dying in grotesque ways. He wanted to rush to their aid, but doing so would expose the remaining soldiers who were barely maintaining their defensive circle around him.

“Hold on―! Please!”

All he could do was scream until his throat tore, urging his men to endure. For every orc he cut down, two more would rush in. Kill two, and three would take their place. There was no sign of improvement. As the hopeless waiting dragged on, the subjugation army’s exhaustion deepened.

“Hold… Hold on, damn it….”

Blood tears welled from the wrinkles around Marquis Carson’s eyes. The battle grew darker still.

Crunch―!

A chilling sound of rending flesh. The orc leader’s brutish arms tore the Second Prince’s horse clean in half.

Splat―

The blood and entrails of the dying beast splattered down over Arencar’s head with a sickening noise. He had neither the strength nor the time to dodge.

Arencar was drenched completely in the animal’s blood. Still warm—no, hot—from moments ago, the lifeblood drenched him to the bone.

Blood! Blood! Blood!

Everywhere he looked—blood. So much that he could no longer tell whether the world was red because of the blood, or the blood because of the world.

When he looked back, there was no one left beside him. The loyal guards who had always followed him fearlessly wherever he went had either been cut down by the orcs or were barely clinging to life in isolated pockets.

“U-uhhh…!”

Thud―

Something caught his retreating foot. It was the head of his adjutant—the one who had stayed by Arencar’s side until the end, only to be surrounded and killed by the orcs.

The head that had snagged on his heel rolled and rolled, then caught on another corpse and stopped. The unfocused eyes of the face that had halted looked at Arencar—once his lord—with an expression of accusation.

‘Ah…! What on earth have I done…!’

Arencar ran blindly without looking back. Only when he himself was plunged into crisis did he realize. His mistake, blinded by glory, had made a small gap in an otherwise perfect formation, and that small gap invited despair.

‘If I hadn’t scattered the line, we wouldn’t have collapsed so futilely… ah…!’

Crunch―crack

The sound of bone being chewed rang out. The leader Orc shoved the lower half of a horse it had in its hands into its mouth and gnawed carelessly. Every time it chewed, red blood foamed and spilled from its twisted teeth.

“Grrrk….”

The creature did not even glance at Arencar.

Yes. This was despair. Blood-splattered, Arencar felt a deep, distant despair.

But even despair was a luxury Arencar could not afford now. Standing before him was a newly appeared leader Orc—the monster that had torn his steed, which weighed several hundred kilos, apart with its bare hands and killed it.

It was far larger and tougher than the leader it had been chopping down earlier, which had made that one look like a child by comparison.

When that creature had appeared and a retreat order had been issued from the main force, Arencar—too late to rejoin his unit—had chosen to cut down the leader rather than take the long way around to rejoin them.

And as the result of that wrong choice, he had lost all his subordinates and was left alone like this.

‘…It’s water spilled already. I’ll take at least one of them with me.’

There was no time to drown in regret over mistakes in despair. That was not the way of the man called ‘the Sword of the Imperial Family’.

As if to atone for the countless lives his mistake had cast to death, Arencar strengthened his grip on the sword in his hand. He resolved to brave death.

No trace of mana leaked from Arencar’s already exhausted body. He knew well—fighting that thing before him without mana would be impossible. Still, Arencar squeezed out his voice and shouted.

“You bastard…! Where are you looking! I am your opponent! How dare you look anywhere but at me when I stand before you!”

The creature that had been devouring Arencar’s steed reacted to that voice. Annoyed at his meal being disturbed, it flung the horse it had been eating and roared.

“KwAAAaak―!”

Unlike other Orcs, it did not wield a weapon. With arms as thick as ancient trees, it simply grabbed enemies, tore them apart, and beat them to death.

In rage it reached toward Arencar. Its powerful arm swung, sending a strong gust of wind.

Swoooosh―!

‘If it caught me, I would die!’

Arencar nimbly dodged the brutal hand. The wind from where its arm had passed fluttered his collar.

“Even if I die here today, I’ll kill you first.”

Arencar’s eyes blazed fiercely at his foe. Braving death, he plunged into the enemy’s embrace.

‘How could a mere Orc… be this….’

He had known it wasn’t an ordinary Orc, but he had not expected such a formidable opponent.

Even Arencar’s Guardian Sword, which could withstand blows without mana, had only managed to nick the creature’s body. The thing seemed to wear steel instead of hide. Perhaps even if Arencar had been brimming with mana, it still might have been a formidable foe.

Despite those grim conditions, Arencar had burst one of its eyes, but that was the only wound that could be called fatal. The result was that Arencar lost an arm.

The right arm of Arencar, crushed and mangled by brushing against the creature’s arm, naturally went limp. Ultimately, the arm that could no longer do its duty let go of Arencar’s Guardian Sword.

Clang―

Arencar’s Guardian Sword, bereft of a hand to hold it, tumbled across the ground. The knight had dropped his sword and lost an arm.

“Kill me, kill me….”

He thought it was truly the end now.

“To be slain by the hand of a mere Orc. If I had known it would come to this, I should have drawn my sword back then….”

At the moment he foresaw his end, the one who came to Arencar’s mind was none other than Yuwon.

Blood-soaked, Arencar gave a self-mocking smile.

‘That guy… Yurion. If he had been here in my place, things would’ve turned out differently. That cunning man would never have made a mistake like mine. Perhaps… perhaps the saying that he is the true Sword of the Imperial Family might be true after all.’

Then, the creature swung its arm with terrifying force. At the end of its path stood Arencar.

Whooong―!

Arencar, having no intention of dodging that hand, simply stood in place and waited for death.

At that moment—

Slash―

In a fleeting instant, a white streak of light was drawn across the air. The trajectory of that light traced a white line that cleanly sliced through the crimson world.

The arm of the leader Orc caught in that path fell to the ground as if by magic. That the sturdy creature’s arm had been severed so effortlessly was unbelievable, even to the eye.

Flutter―

And white wings fluttered. No—those were not wings, but hair. Long white hair tied tightly fluttered through the air like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

White. A color familiar to all.

“Ah… Master of the White Dragon.”

A cry of awe escaped the lips of the subjugation soldiers barely holding their line against the enemy in the distance. All eyes turned toward the newcomer. The source of the white light was none other than Yuwon.

“Yurion… how are you here…!”

At the brink of death, his life spared at the last moment, Arencar looked at Yuwon in astonishment.

“…Arencar, was this your doing? Marquis Carson isn’t the kind of man to fight such a foolish battle. To throw away your advantage and brawl head-on with a horde of Orcs like this.”

Yuwon hadn’t even witnessed the process, yet he grasped the situation as though he had seen it with his own eyes. Struck precisely at the mark, Arencar had no reply.

“….”

“No, we can discuss this later. There’s something else I must do first.”

Yuwon turned his gaze toward the horde of hundreds of Orcs. With eyes as cold as the frozen winter sea and a single sword in hand, he faced them without hesitation.

Hundreds of years ago, the continent had belonged not to humans, but to monsters. Among them, the Orcs had been the most prosperous of all.

It was the founding of Aphahiel that ended that era—unifying the continent and creating a nation for humankind.

And the man who stood at the forefront of eradicating the monsters of that age was none other than Dant Ser Geiorn. In other words, Tang Seogyeom.

In Yuwon’s back, standing proudly against his enemies alone, overlapped the image of that legendary hero.

Yuwon raised his sword and aimed it at the Orc horde. On the white blade, tangible mana flared like fire.

“Come.”

The White Dragon whispered softly.