The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 243

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Mad Spearman of the Northern Front (243)
Just before dawn broke, the sky above the Ridge Line was a thick blend of deep blue and gray, while the mountain’s shadow stretched long like the remnants of night.
The wind was biting cold.
Frigid air flowing down from the Snowy Plains cut through the crevices in the rocks, scraping my lungs sharply with each breath I drew.
The Preldior Base Camp lay in silence.
Yet it was a command cry echoing from the mountain that shattered that quiet.
“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”
As the echo reverberated down through layers of stone walls, soldiers still warming up in the Barracks began to murmur.
“…Those guys are really something else.”
“The rumors were true then. Training at this dawn hour?”
“Unless you’re that insane… you can’t become like that.”
The soldiers gazed up at the Ridge Line and clicked their tongues in amazement.
Shadows of people were moving in a line across it.
Before the darkness had even fully lifted, there were already those climbing the mountain.
It was the Silent Spear Battalion.
The Mountain Path was hardly ideal for running.
Sharp protruding bedrock, frozen earth, patches of snow scattered throughout.
One misstep and you’d slide straight down the slope.
Yet they did not stop.
Isaac, running at the vanguard, gasped out his command.
“Run faster! We summit and return to Base Camp within three hours!”
For ordinary soldiers, it takes over four hours just to walk to the summit.
Yet he was saying they’d complete the ascent, descent, and return to Base Camp in less than half that time?
It was an impossible objective.
Yet no one laughed.
Only a day since the fortification work had finished.
Some still hadn’t fully recovered from their Injuries sustained in the war, but their eyes burned with fierce determination.
‘I must… grow stronger… stronger still.’
‘I survived this time by luck… but I can’t count on that next time.’
Not a single one complained.
Instead of screams, only harsh breathing continued in rhythm.
Thud, thud!
The sound of Boots striking rock echoed in succession.
And above that, only the sound of ragged breathing and pounding hearts filled the mountain.
And among them.
“Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!”
Kailun ran alongside Isaac.
His breathing grew progressively harsher, and sweat flowed freely down his forehead.
Isaac spoke without turning his head.
“Kailun. Mana Manipulation is forbidden. Run on pure physical strength alone.”
“I know already, so stop telling me!”
Kailun clenched his teeth and shouted the words out like a curse.
My chest felt like it would burst, and a sharp pain seared through my throat as the taste of blood filled my mouth.
The edges of my vision trembled faintly.
Yet my feet refused to stop.
And was it because I ran myself to death like that?
The Silent Spear Battalion managed to arrive at the Fortification well ahead of the three-hour target they had set.
When they reached the front of the Fortification, some nearly collapsed right there, but in the end, not a single one fell.
Isaac drew in a deep breath and exhaled, surveying his Squad Members.
“Brief stretching, then eat, then we begin morning Training. Those with remaining Fortification work should finish it quickly and proceed to additional Training.”
“Yes, understood!”
Though their thighs trembled, they answered with disciplined expressions.
They understood as well.
That now, when they could train like this, was the safest time.
And that it was because they had done this that they had survived.
The Squad Members dispersed, and Platoons began their morning meal.
Isaac exhaled softly and turned his body.
Kailun, who had followed him, then asked.
“What’s Arteon up to these days?”
“I heard he’s Training separately with Svein.”
Isaac spoke matter-of-factly.
“For now, we’ll have to manage on our own.”
“…With that person?”
Kailun’s expression hardened.
Had he not seen clearly on the Battlefield just how strong Svein was?
To think Arteon was Training through Sparring Matches one-on-one with such a being.
Crunch.
Kailun clenched his fist.
It felt as though the distance between himself and Arteon had only grown wider since coming here.
That thought made him angry.
But then it happened.
Tap.
At the sensation of a hand on his shoulder, Kailun lifted his head.
Isaac was looking at him.
“I feel the same way. Don’t be too frustrated. Someday you’ll definitely be able to catch up.”
His tone was calm.
But his eyes burned with fierce intensity.
From that, Kailun could understand.
That Isaac harbored the same emotion.
“…Yeah.”
Kailun answered briefly and nodded. Then, feigning indifference, he cast a single glance toward the direction where Arteon was training.
Where exactly was that guy….
‘How far… has he gone.’
Turbulent emotions churned within his chest.
At that same moment, in the mountain terrain far removed from Preldior’s Base Camp.
The morning fog still clung stubbornly to the Ridge Line.
The rocks were cool, and the earth—frozen overnight and now thawed—was treacherously slick beneath the surface.
With each breath drawn, the frigid air cut deep into my lungs.
Clang!
Sword and Spear collided, and the thunderous sound of rending metal split the mountainside.
As the shockwave swept across the rock’s surface, small pebbles tumbled away in cascades.
Simultaneously, the expressions of both fighters contorted.
In their eyes locked upon each other lay a faint Killing Intent that no mere Sparring Match could conceal.
“Hgh!”
Svein, gripping his Sword with both hands, lowered his center of gravity and drove his power forward.
The pressure transmitted along the blade erupted explosively, and my Spear Shaft was forced backward.
My soles scraped across the rock as I slid back half a beat.
And then.
Whoosh!
Svein lunged toward me like a ravenous Beast, unwilling to relinquish his advantage.
“Hgh!”
Shwaaaak!
With a sound like air being torn asunder, his Sword extended toward me.
But in that instant.
Whip!
I twisted my upper body to evade the attack, then immediately sidestepped.
And as Svein’s Sword cut through empty air, the tip of my Iglis Spear aimed for his flank.
Tap!
Svein twisted his wrist and intercepted the strike with his Sword.
A sharp metallic note rang out, and both weapons rebounded, flying in opposite directions.
“Hah….”
“Hah….”
Several paces apart.
After that brief clash, both our breaths escaped in shallow gasps.
Yet that moment was fleeting.
Svein moved first.
Whoosh!
The angle of his footfall was razor-sharp.
It was not merely speed—it was a stride that preemptively cut off my escape routes.
A movement ingrained in the body through long years on the Battlefield.
The Sword fell from above to below, followed by a horizontal slash.
Relentless Continuous Attacks erupted with terrifying ferocity.
Against it….
Tap! Clang! Screech! Whoosh! Whoosh! Crash!
Arteon moved swiftly, evading and defending against Svein’s strikes.
He raised the Spear Shaft to deflect the slashes, lowered his body to avoid the Thrusts, retreated half a step, then advanced again.
At first glance, it appeared I was being driven into a defensive position by Svein’s relentless assault.
“….”
Yet Arteon weathered his storm-like attacks while hunting for an opening.
He knew with certainty that at the end of this barrage, there would be one moment of opportunity.
“Hraaaaah!”
And the instant his fluid attacks gained force, punctuating the sequence.
Whoooosh!
Arteon twisted his body and swung the Spear upward in a sweeping arc from below.
Screech!
Svein’s Sword shot skyward from Arteon’s Counterattack.
“This, this can’t be…!”
In that instant, Svein’s pupils trembled.
There shouldn’t have been enough Distance to swing the Spear….
An impossible movement unfolded from a Range he couldn’t have predicted.
But there was no time to be astonished.
Whooooom!
Suddenly, Mana surged violently from Arteon’s body.
From the core of his being.
The Mana Core nestled beneath his solar plexus vibrated subtly.
The Mana flowing from the Mana Core spread throughout his entire body along blood vessels and Muscles.
4-Star Level Mana.
A restricted amount of Mana agreed upon for the Sparring Match with Svein.
Despite allowing lethal intent, a rule both had set to avoid crossing the line.
Yet through continued Sparring Matches with Svein, I had come to understand something definitive.
Even with identical quantities of Mana, the Quality of that Mana produced vastly different Power.
‘And….’
How one distributed and utilized that Mana within the body also created subtle differences in efficiency.
Since Arteon already wielded 8-Star Level Mana Manipulation, I could perceive those minute details far more vividly.
As Arteon drew upon his Mana, Svein too unleashed 4-Star Level Mana, radiating his Aura.
Boom!
A head-on collision.
The air split with a thunderous explosion, and Svein’s body was hurled backward.
And in that moment.
Crash!
Arteon exploited the opening in Svein’s defense and thrust his Spear toward him.
The Spear swept in a circular arc.
What had been a trajectory from shoulder to flank suddenly shifted, the Spear now targeting Svein’s opposite thigh.
At this, Svein gritted his teeth and swung his Sword.
But Arteon’s Spear, serpentine in its grace, slipped past the Sword like a viper striking toward the heart.
Clang!
“Ugh!”
Thick beads of sweat formed on Svein’s brow.
He blocked Arteon’s attacks again and again, yet they showed no sign of ceasing.
A relentless onslaught.
It felt as though dozens of ravenous beasts were charging at him all at once.
And with each passing exchange, the tip of the Iglis Spear carved small wounds across Svein’s body.
Or rather, Svein’s Sword was growing half a beat slower with each move.
“Ugh!”
Driven back by the Continuous Attack, Svein’s foot caught on a stone.
A momentary loss of balance.
He quickly lowered his stance to recover, but—
Tap.
The tip of Arteon’s Spear came to rest precisely before his neck.
In that moment, the wind of the Preldior Mountain Range swept between them.
Whiiiiing!
“…Hah.”
Svein steadied his breathing, gazing at the Spear’s tip before slowly raising his eyes.
His gaze held not the bitterness of defeat, but something closer to the heat of enlightenment.
“…Impressive.”
At those words, Arteon withdrew his Spear and extended his hand to him.
“It was a narrow margin.”
“Heh, I know it’s flattery, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“I mean it sincerely. Compared to our last Sparring Match… you’ve become considerably more formidable.”
It was genuine.
Though not much time had passed since their last Sparring Match, I could sense that Svein was growing stronger with each encounter.
At Arteon’s words, Svein grasped his hand with an impassive expression and rose to his feet.
“The more I experience this, the more curious it becomes. We both wield 4-Star Level Mana, yet the difference in power is far greater than I ever anticipated.”
“I too have come to understand this through our Sparring Matches. Perhaps the disparity between those at the same Realm stems from precisely such factors.”
“And if you add the difference in Spear Technique and Sword Technique proficiency on top of that, the gap widens even further.”
Arteon and Svein continued their discussion, analyzing the Sparring Match they had just completed.
This time spent reviewing and conversing after a Sparring Match became the greatest foundation for growth.
But then it happened.
“Svein! Arteon!”
At the sound of someone calling out from a distance, Arteon and Svein halted their discussion and turned their attention toward the voice.
Svein asked, observing the soldier rushing toward him with a rather urgent expression.
“What is the matter?”
“It is….”
At the soldier’s words, both Arteon and Svein’s expressions stiffened slightly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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