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Chapter 163: War Prince (2)
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 03:45:25 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
I stood shoulder to shoulder with Borealis, Arione and Delas. Behind us stood our respective parties.
In front of us were Zenom Saintred. The Bishop. Cecilia Lightridge. Then the only regular adventurer allowed to stand next to them: Maria Akka Xalud.
And in front of us, everyone else.
We all waited.
And I watched.
The wide deck of a ship, that could only belong to a barge designed for mass transport. A barge made with skilled hands, but under the constraints of limited time and resources. There were some things that not even a master craftsman could hide, especially one meant to shape iron not wood.
Various stains from meal times. Broken planks patched up haphazardly with whatever piece of driftwood and other lumber we could procure from the island. Monster blood stains that wouldn’t wash out no matter what. And more.
Then the perfectly clean and pristine gangplank placed itself on the center of the deck with a resounding thud.
Naturally, the sailors and adventurers alike parted the way for these newcomers. As if the gangplank was a prod used to herd cattle; no one spoke a word nor did they question they should make the way for them. It was as natural as the sky was up and the ground was down –and the history of this world had been shaped long before I’d been isekai’d here. Shaped in such a way that the very DNAs of these people were engraved with subservient servitude towards the individual who had decided to grace us with his presence on this day.
War Prince Jared Akka Xalud.
His retinue boarded first.
The grieves of armored knights thudded across the wood as they marched in perfect formation. Their faces were covered by face-masks made to cover insects that had been integrated into the design of the helm. Thick mandible-like appendages that strutted out from their helm and wrapped around their neck, designed to protect them from a lethal blow. The armor itself was some strange deep forest green metal alloy, thin sheets of them layered one after another. The whole ensemble wore this strange exoskeleton-like armor and as they descended, I could feel this brand new sensation sweep over the ship like a dark cloud.
A sensation of dread and fear.
The quiet fear people feel when they know something bad is about to happen. The dread people feel when they’re about to be caught in a tornado. Or you see the small leak in your ceiling start to spread, threatening to bring down your entire house.
A crack.
A crevice.
A small slip.
That was all it was supposed to be.
But the Akka Xalud Knights forged a path without hesitation, like a bull running through a straw house. And with it, they punched a hole in the morale of sailors, priests and adventurers alike.
A rich dark green carpet rolled out, stopping right at Zenom’s feet.
The knights separated into two, creating a wall of steel between the newly created carpet.
And then Jared Akka Xalud’s procession came in.
I’d never seen anything like it.
More Knights marched out first, in rows of four. The first of them stopped a mere ten feet from Zenom, then pivoted on their heel with militaristic precision –creating another barrier between themselves and the rest of the people. But these Knights weren’t like the others. Their armor was engraved with different colored centipedes.
Finally, the War Prince himself.
Something sloped over the gangplank and when it came into view, I recognized it as an actual litter. A litter paiend in the bright orange hues which contrasted starkly against the dark-green color scheme of everyone else. The litter was carried on four corners. Not by the Knights, no. They were carried by pale-skinned orcs. Orcs with white skin and purple war paints.
Orcs from the North.
The Uleum Horde, through which Jared Akka Xalud made his story.
The orcs were shirtless and as typical of their race, well-muscled. They wore little more than leather pants and one other accessory.
A Slave Collar.
That wasn’t all.
Countless scars marred their skin, creating a sickening yet aesthetically matching stripes to complement the war paint on their skin. Like someone had taken an ice pick and had mockingly drawn scars to imitate the Orc’s culture.
The scars left deep grooves on their skin and they all seemed to be pointing towards their head. My gaze was drawn to them.
Their eyes had been plucked out.
“Ssssslaveborn,” Someone touched my elbow.
It was Skaris.
He whispered in my ear, “Breathe.” He said simply.
I’d started breathing hard without even realizing it.
I took a deep breath to center myself, but ended up holding it.
Two woman followed behind the litter.
Both of them more beautiful than any other woman I’d ever seen, both on Earth and here.
They were dressed in little more than silk cloth draped around their body, barely covering their breasts and hips. Unlike the orcs, their skins were porcelain white and free of any imperfections that I could see. Ab-lines that made you want to hold onto their waist, lines on their body that made your fingertips suddenly wander. Their hips swayed to some invisible music; both of them human in every way except the single feature that ousted their identity as non-humans.
One had the pointed ears of an elf with light-green-blonde hair that shimmered like jewels in the ocean sun. The silk-cloth had been picked to match her eyes, the color light enough to be see through. Only in the parts of her body that mattered was the cloth wrapped around multiple times to hide what lay underneath. She knew it too, whenever she moved, the cloth slipped just a bit to leave men bewitched; leaving too little and too much to thoughts.
If the elf was a beauty to be admired, the beastwoman was anything but. Her blood-red eyes invited wanton abandon; her steps much more aggressive than her elven counterpart. She was barefoot and with each step, drew eyes to her calves, thighs, hips, the curves of her waist and chest, her neck and then her face. Unlike the elf, she didn’t wear a light face-covering. Her features were something between feline and human. The red-pointed years on the top of her head reminded me of a fox. The silk covering barely sat on her hips as the tail behind her swayed back and forth lazily.
I forced myself to look away from the two.
A knight, the only knight, who was allowed near the Orcs and the two women, spoke at last.
“Jared Lidae Akka Xalud,” He introduced, “War Prince of Turina. Hero of the North. Heir Apparent of the Centipede General.”
And the War Prince stepped out from the litter.
Jared wasn’t a tall man. Barely taller than the woman who bowed deep at the waist at his arrival.
He wore a rich green cloak that glimmered in the light; much like Zenom’s. But where Zenom’s cloak ended at his heels, Jared’s cloak dragged behind him. It was a two-piece cloak, separated in the middle to resemble something like insect wings. Underneath the cloak, I spotted what looked like layered carapace armor.
Each sheet of metal had been painstakingly sharpened into a knight-edge point, no bigger than two of my fingers. Then hundreds and hundreds of those arrow-head looking pieces had somehow been weaved together to create his armor. I wondered just what grading that armor would receive. Unique? Legend?
The cloak flashed and I saw the weapons he preferred to use.
Two daggers, one strapped to each side of his waist.
Jared finally turned.
His hair was black. Jet black with a single orange lock that fell over his eyes; which were the color of faded dollar bills. He was young, much younger than I had expected. Perhaps in his early thirties at most. But that was about all I could get from him. Everything below his eyes were covered by a mask with pointed mandibles that jutted out two inches from his face.
And when Jared walked towards us, all the sailors, adventurers and priests had their gazes pointed towards the floor.
The sound of his grieves muffled through the carpet reigned in absolute silence.
“Zenom.” Jared said quietly.
His voice wasn’t anything like I had imagined. I’d expected something needly or with a sneer added to it. Contempt at the very least. But Jared’s voice… was rather velvety. Soft, and warm; like multilayered cake with plenty of frosting in between the layers. It reminded me of chocolate fondue or a nicely made feathered pillow.
Zenom put a fist over his chest. “War Prince Jared.” Then he gave a slight bow.
Jared stood there, watching.
Finally, his gaze swept over the rest of us.
And with a flick of his pupils, dismissed us as unworthy of his attention.
All the pressure that had been building up disappeared and I saw people’s shoulders slump. Jared’s attention on the ship had been a palpable physical thing and it had disappeared with a mere decision.
But where’d it go?
For the first time since I met Zenom…
A sweat bead rolled off of his neck and into the crevices of his armor.
Zenom Saintred, the Holy Knight. One of the forebears of this generation’s Knights of Turina. The one for whom even Aurora and Kyrian had nothing but good things to say. Zenom Saintred, a Hero of the Church, the youngest Knight to gain the Pope’s favor…
He was scared.
“Raise your head, Zenom.” At that, Zenom lifted his head but his stiff gaze never left Jared’s face. Clinging to every word. “No need for formalities.”
“I thank you, War Prince Jared. We-”
Jared held up a hand.
The ship held their breath. The adventurers. The priests. Even the Akka Xalud knights.
Every single attention had been sharpened to needle-point focus and it was all pointed at the War Prince.
“Don’t bother.” Jared replied. Unlike Zenom’s stiff speech, he was completely at home. Comfortable, even. “We both know I am no War Prince. Not anymore.” His eyes barely crinkled at the corners in what was a smile. “It’d be folly to keep up the pretense of empty titles, especially in front of two –no, three– individuals who were there to witness my duel.”
Zenom didn’t say anything.
What could he say?
Luckily, Jared hadn’t expected a reply. “Speaking of, I reckon that you are higher ranked than I now, isn’t that true, Borealis?”
Borealis froze.
Jared wasn’t as kind to Borealis Vetilius as he was to Zenom.
“Well?” Jared urged.
I could sense Borealis’ panic. Almost a physical manifestation of a nervous wrecking ball that spread outwards from the heavily armored knight.
When Borealis didn’t answer immediately, the masked knight next to Jared put a hand on his sheathed weapon.
I felt people lean away from Borealis.
Borealis gave a slight bow of his head. “According to Turina Law, that might be true. But right now, we are both adventurers from Turina. I think it is only right that I pay my respect to an accomplished adventurer and Knight such as you, Sir Jared.”
Jared’s smile deepened.
“Oh, how I’ve missed Turinan small talk.” He said softly, barely audible.
My brain flashed through a series of images, linking chains.
Jared had been toying with Borealis. Baiting him to say the wrong thing. To… to mess up somehow.
I imagined Borealis insulting the former War Prince by answering wrongly to a question that Jared himself had asked. Jared had only smiled after, while Borealis had…
He’d been ready for death.
Jared turned back to Zenom. “Pray tell, Zenom. Where are you heading to?”
Zenom gave a barely perceptible nod to Cecilia. Cecilia took a step towards Jared and the masked knight blocked her way.
“We are on a mission, ordained by the Church and sponsored by Vetilius Household.” Zenom said hurriedly. “A decree from Pope himself, to recover a relic lost to the Turinan Empire; from an island to the easy called Claw’s Nest. Those are the papers.”
Cecilia smiled at the knight, holding out the scrolls.
The masked knight took the scroll and opened it.
“They are all in order, War Prince.”
“I do hope you will all stop calling me that.” Jared said calmly. He took the scroll but didn’t bother looking at it, passing it along to the fox-eared woman on his left. “These are the adventurers you’ve recruited?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” His eyes roamed over the Barge, then back to Zenom just as quick. “Zenom, I assume you are here to resupply?”
“Yes, Sir Jared.”
“Excellent,” Jared clapped his hands, not making a sound. “That gives me time to spend time with guests. It’s been terribly dry. I extend my hospitality to you and those of yours, Zenom Saintred.”
“Sir Jared, surely it’s not-”
“I insist.”
“...if you insist,” Zenom said with resignation, “Sir Jared. But there are many of us. Surely-”
“Oh that’s no problem. I’ll make room.” Jared turned on his heel, heading to the litter. “Kariyo?”
“Yes, War Prince?” The Masked Knight stood at attention, slamming a fist to his armor.
“Kill all the demi-humans that are not part of the adventurers.” Then he paused, looking over the crowd. “But that one-”
He pointed at the sailor who’d been flirting with the dwarf only a few hours ago.
“You may spare her.”
Everything went blank.
He’d said it so casually like asking someone to take out the trash. Like…
Like they weren’t human.
Ah, right. They weren’t.
Zenom cried out, “Sir Jared!”
“Oh, you simply have to view the sights, Zenom.” Jared was already walking away. “They have everything here.”
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Delas looked around, his eyes wide. Jared had said to spare the adventurers but Delas had backed himself up to a wall with hands on his daggers anyways.
A wail went up.
It was the beastwoman sailor and she was being dragged by the Akka Xalud Knights.
Already the Akka Xalud Knights were drawing their blades.
The dwarf who’d promised to go shopping with the beastwoman sailor held up his fists in a fighting gesture and all around him, people began to react in a similar way. The demi-human sailors fell to their knees, rubbing their hands together and begging. Some of them who’d grown close to adventurers and alike began to clutch at their cloaks. But everyone was like me, frozen in fear. In shock. That such a thing could happen.
A little girl screamed and I looked.
Doror clutched his granddaughter to his chest, waving a hammer.
“SIR JARED!” Zenom stepped forward but the Masked Knight barred his way.
My head going blank. Knuckles going white.
Skaris hissing behidn me the temperature rising.
“Skaris, no.” A rustling of cloth as Kyrian grabbed Skaris’ sleeves.
“Lety! Stick close!” Clover grabbing Lety; Maria physically tackling the larger barbarian woman and slamming her to the wall.
“Shut the fuck up and stay still, Barbarian,” Maria hissed, “If you want to keep your neck.”
Clover doubled down, holding Lety down and whispering fiercely in the elf’s ears. Eventualy Lety relaxed.
Borealis turned his head away, so did his party of Scions and Bastards.
Aurora banged her armored gauntlet on the wall of the cabin behind us. Her other hands wrapped around Stole and brought her close.
“Wait, this is wrong, ain’t it?” Stole kept saying. “Is… Is this real? No, it’s not. Mister? Sis? Someone?”
But no one answered.
No one was going to do anything. Not Zenom. Not Arione. Not Clover. Everyone, just concerned for themselves and their party. I could understand why. I had a party of my own. It wasn’t any of my business whether people lived or died.
This wasn’t some situation that could be fixed through talking. Jared Akka Xalud was a War Prince and he only knew violence. Oh, he’d tricked us with his smooth spech but I knew better. He was a snake, poised with his fangs at our necks and he knew it. A sadist who plucked orc’s eyes for fun and picked concubines for no other reason than just because he could.
And all because he was strong.
Life is like that. It’s just that most of us live our daily lives without ever feeling just how powerless we all are in the face of real power. Try suing a billionaire. Try even messing with a police officer over something he made a mistake on. No one will help you. You’ll be alone, the laws are designed to pick on the poor, the downtrodden and the weak. There’s a reason why the IRS doesn’t go after the rich.
The rich. The strong. They rule this world.
It’s just that in MSS, it’s so much more real.
And everyone knew it. That’s why no one was going to do anything.
One of the Knights slapped one of the auxiliary forces. An elven woman that I recognized. Kira, the archer from the auxiliary forces. She attempted to draw her bow but the Knight cut it in two with his [Aura]-axe and then backhanded her.
Steel.
Blood.
Screams.
The slaughter was starting.
Then, someone spoke up.
“JARED AKKA XALUD, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”
Everyone froze.
The sun still shone. The barge still moved in rhythm with the tide.
But Jared had stopped, halfway up his litter.
The knights had stopped, one of their swords had stopped an inch before piercing the dwarf’s heart –the one who had fallen for that beastwoman.
Zenom stood, his mouth open in horror. He stared at the perpetrator.
So did everyone else.
…Why were they staring at me?
Oh.
It was me.
I said that.
“Jared Akka Xalud, You fucking COWARD!” My voice escaped my throat and rang across the open seas.
Jared head turned slowly and looked at me.
“I challenge you,” I panted, scared and excited and panicking all at the same time. The raging tide of emotions turned into something unexpected, that I hadn’t ever felt before.
Desperate fury.
Skaris hissed something. “Sssslaveborn, I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE DEATH!” Then he began screaming wordlessly, incapable of forming words. "SSSSSHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He kept screaming even while I spoke.
“I challenge you, Jared Akka Xalud!” Madness fueld my voice and insanity pervaded the depths of my consciousness, infecting every syllable and word that came out my mouth in the deafening silence on this barge. “In the Orc Tradition of Mak’Gorah! Duel to the Death! In the Turina Tradition of Ferris Duelies! The Iron Duel!”
A hiss of satisfaction as Arrosh saddled up next to me. “I am behind you, young Crow. Take flight. My blade is yours.”
The sound of Aurora’s Lance and Shield being drawn. No words from my stoic Shielder.
A soft voice. A young one. Stole.
“Mister… I’m with you. And…” Pain and hope. “Thank you.”
“FIGHT ME JARED AKKA XALUD! FIGHT ME WICKED-DOER!”
Kyrian’s back pushing against mine. “I swore that no one, no one will ever touch your back, Lock. I’m here.”
“My blade is here, Jared Akka Xalud,” Body was trembling. Too much adrenaline and I hadn’t even fought yet.
I drew my sword and my [Aura] flared to life.
And with it, the Crow totem on my back opened its wings. Surrounding me.
A lonely crow cried into the air.
I remembered something Arrosh had said in the Scavenger tunnels.
“Come evil one. And may the Crows feast on your Corpses.” Then I pointed my bare blade at Jared Akka Xalud.
"Fight me, Coward."
***
｢You have a new Milestone!｣
｢Quest: Slave King has been Updated!｣
｢Khan takes an interest in you!｣
｢The Smith takes an Interest in you!｣
｢Oung takes an Interest in you!｣
｢The Nine takes an Interest in you!｣
｢+1 Fame｣
｢+1 Fame｣
…
｢Character is rapidly gaining Fame!｣
｢Increased Probability of Special Scenarios!｣
Comments
Seungmin Lim
Elf! A member of her church made a VERY brief appearance when Lock first arrived in Jayu. A priest of her Church was in the Expedition into the Fracture. P.S She will return. :)
SlanneshSoldier69
You know I honestly don't think he will win. The gods will likely save him for a price and he might even be temporarily separate from his group. Hope not.
Ben Nikel
HAH. And right after I posted a comment about what happens when people threaten Lock's people. That was an excellent drop, I'm laughing AND crying. (I was worried about Mr. Fucking Hyena most of all. He just wanted to carry his crates.)
Korviz
Evil one! Wicked doer!!
JgcAhian
Oh my, 🤯🤯
Predyca
Damn you Wkrrk, you made my heart beat loudly and then you drop cold water over us! Thx a lot >.<
Karma Li
Good work ! I would like to know if which race the God The Nine stand ?
Mordock
He said Demi-human like it was a slur
Cameron C
Noooo hopefully new one soon
SlanneshSoldier69
Author does a real good job of creating a world where the smart choice is to look out for your own juxtaposed to the desire for someone to rise above it all.
SlanneshSoldier69
The last bit of the chapter was really unexpected about fame.
Sir Baka
Holy fucking shit the hype is off the roof with this one. Literally cannot wait for next chapter… except I’m already subscribed to the Patreon. DAMN YOU, WKRRK! WORST CLIFF HANGER EVER!
Terra
Omg 🔥🔥🔥 Why is too short bro?! This is an epic chapter hahaha.. we all expected it but the build up is worth it!
Fortniter
You are excellent at making hateable people
