The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 244

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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 (244)
The camp at Preldior had now taken on a proper form.
The hastily erected tents had been reinforced with wooden frameworks and windbreaks, and the main thoroughfares had been cleared for carriages to pass through.
The earthen ramparts, hastily constructed, had their angles refined and connected to shield walls, while the observation tower afforded a clear view of the ridgelines stretching northward in succession.
And at the center of it all lay the Executive Meeting hall.
Yet today, unlike usual, the Executive Meeting hall thrummed with considerable heat and intensity.
“I concur with that assessment.”
In the midst of the spirited discussion, Brant nodded and offered his response.
Until now he had voiced opposition and advocated for a northward advance, but as the debate unfolded, he realized his thinking had perhaps been somewhat hasty.
Following Brant’s words, Ruocal beside him placed his hand upon the map and continued.
“Rather than hastily advancing northward and provoking them, it seems more crucial to firmly secure the Central Region connecting Belikezel and this place—Preldior—thereby solidifying our grip on the Northern heartland.”
As the Preldior stronghold grew increasingly complete, opinions diverged regarding the next course of action.
Some advocated for capitalizing on this momentum and pushing further northward.
The logic was to leverage the momentum of victory and instill fear.
Yet reality proved far less accommodating.
Transporting supplies to sustain tens of thousands of soldiers across this distant northern expanse posed a significant challenge, and the troops themselves were exhausted.
But above all, the region connecting these two strongholds—Belikezel and Preldior—remained unstable, making reckless advancement impossible.
“Rushing forward will inevitably invite complications.”
Another officer nodded in agreement, lending his voice to the discussion.
“We must proceed methodically, consolidating as we go.”
Yet as the meeting progressed, the divergent views gradually converged toward consensus.
Stability over speed.
Rather than overextending, they would focus on what could be securely held and developed.
But then it happened.
“Commander.”
Claw entered the meeting hall hurriedly and approached Belkain.
“An urgent report has arrived from the Imperial Family.”
“An urgent report?”
Belkain accepted the letter.
As his eyes swept rapidly across its contents, his expression began to shift subtly.
Belkain’s gaze lifted from the letter to Sedrian.
“Your Highness. It appears that the Second Prince’s army, which was advancing southward, has failed in its advance and entered a stalemate.”
In that instant, the meeting hall erupted in commotion.
“Ohhh!”
“Is that truly the case!”
Several officers shifted excitedly in their seats.
They themselves had secured a decisive victory at Preldior.
Meanwhile, the Second Prince had yet to achieve even tangible results—or so it seemed.
Everyone could sense which way the scales of Imperial Succession were tipping.
Yet Belkain’s gaze descended once more to the letter.
The joy was short-lived.
“However… there is one peculiar matter.”
Belkain continued cautiously.
“We’ve detected movement of the Second Prince’s forces heading eastward.”
“Eastward, you say.”
Sedrian asked with a composed expression.
He was already suspicious of what that fellow was plotting.
“The exact intention has not yet been determined, but…”
Belkain shook his head.
“Given precedent, it’s difficult to believe he simply moved without purpose.”
Sedrian fell silent in thought for a moment, then nodded.
“I share the same suspicion. He’s clearly scheming something.”
After exhaling sharply, he added:
“However, it’s difficult to pinpoint his exact intention at this moment.”
“We should send people to the Imperial Family to gather more information.”
Belkain reached his conclusion.
“And regarding further advances northward—we’ll hold off for now. This seems to be a time when preserving what we already have is more important than pursuing uncertain gains.”
With the Second Prince’s suspicious movements detected as well, there was no need to elaborate further.
In such circumstances, swift judgment was paramount.
Rather than overextend our already advantageous position, it was far wiser to consolidate our victory.
Firmly binding Preldior and Belikezel to secure control of the Northern Region’s heart.
That alone was a feat grand enough to leave its mark upon the Empire’s history.
Belkain shouted toward the door of the conference room.
“Summon Svein and Major Arteon at once.”
“Yes, understood!”
A soldier immediately rushed out.
A low tension settled once more over the conference room.
* * *
A strange tension permeated the camp in the Southern Conflict Zone.
The conference room where Belkakrode and Baolent stood together.
The magical barrier surrounding it made it impossible to discern what conversation transpired within.
“…What could His Highness be thinking now.”
“I only hope it’s nothing dangerous.”
Though they were his closest confidants who had served Belkakrode for years, moments like these bred anxiety.
Given his fiery temperament, there was no predicting what absurd scheme he might concoct.
And within the barrier-enclosed conference room.
Belkakrode gazed intently at the troop deployment map spread before him in the firelight.
The soldiers here alone numbered over thirty-five thousand.
By sheer numbers, it was no insignificant force.
Whichever direction I moved, I could accomplish anything with such strength.
But at Belkakrode’s words, Baolent spoke with a hardened expression.
“…Are you truly serious, Your Highness?”
His voice was low and measured.
Before being Belkakrode’s escort knight, he was an expert who understood the Empire’s military structure intimately.
Belkakrode turned his gaze toward him.
“Of course. If there were any other certain method for me to ascend to the Emperor’s throne, tell me now.”
“….”
Baolent fell silent for a moment.
In that brief span, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
Baolent exhaled softly.
“Sigh… but this is far too reckless. The chances of success are slim at best.”
Baolent continued swiftly.
“There are still two years remaining. That time would be more than enough to overturn the current situation.”
Baolent’s eyes gleamed with intensity.
“I shall personally participate in this war.”
If a 7th Star warrior were to join the conflict, the entire landscape would shift irrevocably.
Even in the current battle alone, the moment he intervened, everything could be overturned.
But Belkakrode shook his head.
“No, even so, narrowing this gap will not be easy.”
Sedrian, who had already occupied Preldior, would hardly remain idle.
Belkakrode’s voice was calm, but the emotion beneath it was not.
“Sedrian too will continue to accumulate merit. Those who support him will only grow in number, and my standing within the Imperial Family will shrink.”
It had always been this way.
From birth, everything had turned in his favor.
Claiming first what should have been mine.
Hidden behind a mask of humble smiles, those eyes that looked down as if in pity.
As I recalled Sedrian, my pupils trembled with anxiety.
At this sight, Baolent could only suppress the sigh that threatened to burst forth.
‘Again….’
Comparing himself to the First Prince and gnawing away at his own spirit.
Once comparisons began in relation to him, the anxious demeanor that inevitably emerged caused such difficulty for those around him.
Crunch.
Baolent clenched his fists tightly.
It was truly difficult to witness.
‘Yet he too… is Lord Belkakrode.’
As long as I served him, it was something I had no choice but to endure.
Baolent gazed silently at Belkakrode.
“This was never meant to be such a competition from the start.”
Belkakrode murmured quietly.
Then he lifted his head to look at Baolent standing before him.
“Baolent.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If I turn the army toward the Capital, could we seize the Imperial Palace?”
The air froze in an instant.
“Your Majesty.”
Baolent called out to him with a hardened expression.
Though the thick tent walls would prevent sound from leaking outside, the danger inherent in such words was far too great.
Yet Belkakrode did not retreat.
“Answer me, Baolent.”
His voice grew rough.
“Is it possible or impossible!”
At the command bordering on fury, Baolent swallowed hard.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and answered curtly.
“It is impossible.”
“Why?”
Belkakrode countered immediately.
“The Capital’s defensive forces stand ready at all times, yet our own forces are hardly insufficient either.”
Baolent shook his head.
“The Capital is called the most perfected fortress within the Empire—a place of formidable strength.”
He chose his words with care.
“No matter how vast our forces, should a contingent of this magnitude move near the Capital, the Imperial Palace cannot help but notice.”
Baolent spoke with conviction.
“We will never breach the Castle Walls and enter within.”
“Then what of opening the City Gate from inside? Surely you are capable of such a thing?”
“….”
At times like this, Belkakrode’s calculations were remarkably swift.
At his words, Baolent nodded.
“If my Knight Order and I were to enter the Capital first and move about…there exists a possibility. However….”
A brief silence followed.
But Baolent, having gathered his thoughts, continued immediately.
“The greatest problem is none other than Carbain Eisenhardt himself.”
Duke Carbain Eisenhardt.
The moment that name was spoken, Belkakrode’s expression hardened.
In his haste, he had failed to recall the most crucial figure.
“…That man remains within the Imperial Family.”
One who had long stood closest to the Emperor, building the Empire’s glory with his own hands.
The sole 8th Star wielder in the entire Empire—a Master of the Sword in truth and name.
He still commands the military authority of the Empire and wields formidable influence as a General.
Though he maintains neutrality in the Imperial Succession War, should any movement to seize the Imperial Palace become apparent….
“He will draw his Sword without hesitation.”
“…As long as he exists, seizing the Imperial Palace is impossible.”
Belkakrode’s eyes gleamed with sharp intensity.
“Then you’re saying if that man were gone, we could proceed?”
“…Yes?”
What was he talking about?
Baolent’s expression flickered with confusion, but he soon composed himself and spoke.
“In that case… the chances of success would increase.”
“I’m not asking about chances. I’m asking whether we can guarantee success.”
Belkakrode’s eyes flashed with sharp resolve, as if he had made a decision.
At that sight, Baolent nodded.
“…If Carbain Eisenhardt were absent, there would be no one in the Capital capable of stopping us. We could certainly open the City Gate.”
A thin smile spread across his face.
Belkakrode’s lips curled upward.
Then…
“All we need do is draw him outside the Capital.”
“…What do you mean—”
But before Baolent could finish, Belkakrode rose abruptly from his seat.
And speaking to Baolent, he said:
“An excellent plan has just occurred to me.”
At that smile, a chill of foreboding swept across Baolent’s face.

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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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