The 3rd Prince of the Fallen Kingdom Returns

30. Variant (2)

The wyvern displayed dazzling flight skills. Yuri merely swung his sword in sync with its movements.

“Why is this creature so clever?”

“Kyaaah!”

Only two wyvern riders remained, fleeing and firing arrows as they went.

With the tables turned, the wyvern carrying Yuri began hunting the enemy in earnest.

Soaring high into the sky, it swooped down like an eagle snatching its prey, diving towards the other wyvern and grabbing its rider.

And then it ascended again.

Initially, because of their connection, it pulled the other wyvern along.

Although orcs were physically strong, their bodies couldn’t withstand the weight of a wyvern.

The orc’s body was violently torn in half.

Blood and guts splattered in the air.

“This guy…”

Yuri stroked the back of the wyvern’s head.

It moved carefully, avoiding harm to its fellow wyverns and focusing solely on killing the riders.

When it had been an enemy, he had thought it merely an insolent wyvern, but as an ally, he now realized it was a kind-hearted friend who cared for its own kind.

“How did you end up being caught by orcs…”

“Kyaaah!”

The wyvern flew toward the last remaining orc rider. Once again, Yuri sliced through the orc rider’s neck with precision.

The riderless wyverns shook their heads, as if coming to their senses, and flew off into the distance.

Were they leaving for freedom?

Yuri felt the weight of a farewell.

“Wyvern.”

“Kyaaah!”

“It was a short time, but it was nice to meet you.”

He half-rose from the wyvern’s saddle and looked down at the ground below.

Humans and orcs were fighting, looking like swarms of ants clashing.

To him, it seemed like nothing at all.

But those fighting down there were locked in a desperate struggle for their lives.

Yuri needed to be down there too.

“Over there.”

Yuri pointed to a spot.

“Can you take me down there?”

“Kyaaah!”

The wyvern roared again and turned toward the spot.

The destination was the rear of the Briol forces, the center where Joachim and the Klein Duchy were positioned.

The smaller nations, with their weaker forces, had formed a combined defensive line—but that line was on the verge of breaking

He couldn’t let them collapse.

If their rear was breached while orcs were swarming them, the entire Allied Forces could crumble. It would be like a small hole causing a dam to collapse.

The wyvern spread its wings wide, diving like an arrow through the sky.

His target was getting closer.

“Be happy, wyvern.”

“Kyaaah!”

Understanding the wyvern’s speed, Yuri jumped off earlier than necessary.

Carried by the momentum of high-speed flight, Yuri shot forward in the same direction he had been moving.

Standing at that spot was a large, well-fed orc, its bulk dominating the area.

Yuri drove his sword into the orc’s chest, using its body as a cushion as he crashed to the ground. The orc’s corpse slid, knocking other orcs aside.

A long trail was left in his wake as he landed.

“Whew…”

Yuri, who had descended like a meteor, rose to his feet.

Both humans and orcs turned their attention to him simultaneously.

Yuri didn’t let the brief silence on the battlefield go to waste.

He raised Guilty and shouted,

“For Briol, no, for Joachim!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he charged at the orcs.

The battle resumed immediately.

They were allies, after all. With a renewed roar, the Joachim forces began to push the orcs back once more.

Yuri stood his ground at the weakened part of the line and drove back the orcs.

“Thank you for your assistance, but how did you end up here, riding a wyvern…?”

A Joachim knight, fighting alongside Yuri as they pushed back the orcs, asked curiously.

“I saw the need to assist while I was dealing with the wyverns from above.”

“It’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth.”

The knight, with his long mustache and practiced movements, appeared to be a seasoned middle-aged warrior.

He dispatched the orcs with a practiced ease, as though it were merely a daily routine.

“Our forces have weakened. Joachim isn’t what it used to be.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. The younger ones these days are so weak…”

As far as Yuri knew, Joachim had never been particularly powerful as a nation. Even when Sven called Joachim a band of mountain bandits, it wasn’t entirely baseless.

Still, Yuri found himself agreeing with the knight.

“You’re right. This isn’t like the great Joachim we know.”

“So the prince understands us.”

“Then how about we, as true knights, drive those wretched orcs out together?”

“Hahaha, that sounds great!”

“What is your name?”

“Gonte Merchin, Baron of Pevine.”

“Let’s go, Sir Gonte.”

“It is an honor.”

The two charged toward the orcs together.

The seemingly faltering Joachim lines quickly reformed, regaining their strength.

Yuri shouted,

“Is this all Joachim is capable of?”

With that, he charged forward.

It was an unfamiliar sight for the Joachim troops, who had never fought alongside Yuri before.

They feared that at any moment, the Prince might fall to the orc’s axe.

But the reality was the opposite.

Instead, he took the lead in slaughtering the orcs.

Every swing of his sword left a gaping wound on an orc’s body, and blood gushed out.

The enemies were being cut down like scarecrows.

Although it looked effortless, every movement was a matter of life and death—and he always made the right decision.

Gonte nodded, looking at Yuri.

“The rumors are true. The spirit of knighthood lives in Briol. Those are the movements of a seasoned warrior—not the pampered youth of this generation.”

Perhaps spurred by the sight, admiration filled his voice.

“I can’t lose either.”

His swordsmanship grew sharper, fueled by renewed determination.

“We are Joachim!”

His shout resonated across the battlefield.

The tide of the battle, once marked by mutual slaughter, was now turning in favor of the Allied Forces.

At least in this part of the battlefield, humans were prevailing against the orcs.

Yuri’s lips curled into a smile.

Not long ago, Joachim’s frontline had teetered on the brink of collapse—that was the very reason Yuri had come. And now, Joachim was drawing on every ounce of its strength to drive the orcs back.

This transformation was brought about by none other than Yuri himself.

He felt that if they won this battle, they could prevent the tragedy that would unfold in the future.

He was proving the reason he had returned to the past.

“Don’t back down!”

Suddenly, an attack aimed for his neck came from outside his vision.

Yuri swung Guilty with precision, deflecting the blow

A gently curved scimitar sliced through the air.

“What?”

It was an Orkbal, who had been fighting earlier in the Briol camp, now pursuing him.

Yuri stared in disbelief as Orkbal, fury etched across his face, pointed his blade at him.

“So, you want to settle this?”

Yuri raised Guilty.

He had no intention of getting further entangled with this relentless Orkbal.

He would finish him off cleanly here.

Yuri watched and dodged each of the scimitar strikes flying towards him. And then, seizing a gap in the attacks, he thrust Guilty towards the Orkbal’s chest.

Orkbal tried to sidestep, but it resulted in a long slash across its chest.

The orc’s face contorted in pain.

“Did you think it would end with just one eye?”

Yuri pointed at his own eye as he stared at the one Orkbal had lost and gave him a mocking smile.

The provocation drove Orkbal into a rage.

“Akuakkai!”

That was the only word Yuri could understand.

“Arukma Kmero!”

“Shut up.”

Given Yuri’s infamous reputation, it seemed that Orkbal had begun to consider him a worthy nemesis.

But to Yuri, he was merely one orc among many.

Just another fleeting life destined to fall under his sword on the battlefield.

“You must be a unique one among orcs.”

It wasn’t common for an orc to chase down a foe and settle a score like this. Unlike most orcs, Orkbal didn’t just rely on brute strength but fought with skill—an unusual trait in an orc.

But it didn’t matter.

Such was the nature of war—no matter how unique one was, only the victors survived.

Just as the Empire’s flag had once flown over Briol’s ruins.

To avoid fading into history, one had to crush their enemies.

“Whew…”

The mana permeating the world transformed into Yuri’s energy through the Heart and Soul Slash Method.

Countless ways to wield this power flashed through Yuri’s mind.

What he could do, and what he couldn’t.

He extended his sword towards the realm bordering those possibilities.

Heart and Soul Slash revolved within Yuri’s body.

A fractal swirl, endlessly repeating, emerged on Guilty’s blade.

The Orkbal swung its scimitar down towards Yuri.

Yuri retreated, channeling mana into Guilty as the lingering pattern began to rise from its surface.

He took a step, dodging the next swing of the scimitar.

Yuri understood the surge of mana within his body and its workings.

“Akuakkai!”

The scimitar flew towards him from an unavoidable angle.

Yuri met it with his sword, redirecting the swing toward Orkbal.

Countless whirlwinds surrounded Guilty, converging into a larger rotation that merged into an even greater whirlwind.

The scimitar was shredded from its smallest fragments.

Fragments, like sand grains in a whirlwind, spun and tore through everything nearby.

The Orkbal’s single eye widened in shock.

Yuri glared at him.

Two lives collided, their very existence hanging in the balance.

One would die, the other would live.

This battle, like countless others, would press on.

Battles gather to form wars, and wars accumulate to become part of something even greater.

To see the end of it, one must kill the enemy.

The Orkbal’s body was soon caught in the whirlwind and torn apart.

Yuri watched and spoke.

“Yuri Briol.”

Perhaps sensing his death, Orkbal widened his remaining eye and responded.

The Orkbal stared at Yuri, his remaining eye clear as he responded.

“Duote.”

Was that… its name?

The same name as the infamous orc warrior who had slain countless knights in Yuri’s past life.

And those were the Orcbal’s last words.

Its body, consumed by the whirlwind, disintegrated into nothingness.

Heart and Soul Slash devoured Orkbal’s body, forming a crimson whirlwind. Blood sprayed into the sky before the energy settled back down.

Only shapeless remnants remained.

The rotational force of Heart and Soul Slash swirled around Guilty once more before vanishing.

“Ooh…”

Humans and orcs alike halted, awestruck by the incredible display.

Joachim’s forces gazed at Yuri in awe; the orcs, in terror.

Gonte asked in a trembling voice,

“Wha- what was that skill just now…?”

Yuri looked down at Guilty.

It was nameless.

It was an attack born in a sudden moment of inspiration.

Yuri’s lips moved slightly.

“This is…”

A name flashed through his mind.

“Yuri Style First Form.”

“First Form…?”

“It’s the Sword of the Spinning Whirlwind.”

“The Sword of the Spinning Whirlwind…!”

Yuri raised his sword after naming the technique.

“Everyone saw that, right?! This is me, Yuri Briol!”

As always, he raised his voice to boost the morale of his allies.

Now it’s your turn! Show me what the knights of Joachim can do! Show me what you’re really made of!”

However, the reaction was different from what he had expected.

No one responded.

The Joachim knights swung their swords, their heads bowed in silence.

“Sure enough, Briol is different.”

“A nation like ours doesn’t stand a chance…”

“Let’s just hold on for now. He’ll handle it.”

“Why did we even join the Allied Forces…”

Rather than being inspired by Yuri’s skill, they grew even more passive.

Gonte closed his eyes in shame.

“This is embarrassing…”

Yuri’s eyes widened.

At first, he thought Gonte was merely old-fashioned, but the Joachim knights truly lacked resolve.

In Briol, even with its relative equality, knights this feeble would face a harsh reprimand from the Knight Commander.

In the Empire, such behavior would earn them a kick to the face with military boots.

“Sir Gonte, after this war is over, I’d like to invite the knights of Joachim to Briol. I want to offer them a joint training program.”

“Really? That would greatly strengthen the friendship between our two nations!”