The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 247

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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 (247)
The messenger arrived before dawn had fully broken.
The barracks still held the chill of night, and only the oil lamp swayed gently in the darkness.
Belkakrode was studying the map spread across the table when he lifted his head at the sound of hurried footsteps.
“Your Majesty.”
It was Count Adrian.
There was no time for pleasantries.
The situation was too urgent to afford even the courtesy of formality.
Adrian cut straight to the matter.
“The Neolth Kingdom has mobilized its forces.”
“…I see.”
Belkakrode answered calmly, yet his fists had already clenched tightly.
The board he had most desired and needed had finally been laid out.
Adrian continued.
“They have crossed the Eastern Border and are currently attacking Benka, a city in the Empire’s east.”
Belkakrode’s hand paused momentarily.
Now only one truly crucial matter remained.
Belkakrode slowly lifted his head and asked Adrian.
“Who made the move?”
It was a simple question.
Depending on who had stepped forward, the circumstances he needed for his plan would differ entirely.
Adrian understood this as well, so he took a brief breath and answered.
“The Blood Lion Knights.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
Belkakrode’s lips curved ever so slightly upward.
The Blood Lion Knights.
The Neolth Kingdom’s most elite order of knights—the very force known as the kingdom’s “final card.”
And at their vanguard stood.
“Giorak Vanklo.”
Belkakrode spoke the name as though savoring it.
A 7-Star warrior and among the kingdom’s most formidable fighters.
Moreover, he had only recently entered his middle years, and he remained steadfast at the forefront, never abandoning the battlefield for the kingdom’s sake.
The movement of the Blood Lion Knights carried but a single meaning.
“A worthy hand indeed.”
Belkakrode leaned back in his chair and laughed softly.
He had received the finest card the Neolth Kingdom could offer.
In such circumstances, there was no doubt—that one would have no choice but to move as well.
Belkakrode spoke to Adrian.
“Tell the Pig to mobilize every resource at his disposal immediately.”
By “Pig,” Belkakrode meant Jaikl Mion, the head of the Mion Obsidian Trading Company.
Belkakrode’s voice continued, suppressing the surge of excitement within him.
“And have Nocturne move with us. Scrape together every last one of those bastards capable of fighting down to the lowest ranks.”
“Understood.”
Count Adrian bowed his head in acknowledgment, then immediately slipped out of the Barracks.
And now only Belkakrode and Baolent remained within the Barracks.
Belkakrode turned his gaze toward Baolent.
“Now that the Blood Lion Knights have made their move….”
Belkakrode spoke in a low voice.
“It cannot be resolved without him stepping forward.”
Baolent understood the meaning of those words precisely.
He nodded.
“The very moment he moves in the Capital.”
Belkakrode’s eyes narrowed.
“We immediately enter the Capital and execute the plan.”
A brief silence.
“…Understood.”
Baolent knew this was something that should never be done.
The moment they crossed this line, there was no turning back.
If they failed… surely, everyone in that room would die.
No, even those connected to this would perish.
Perhaps that was why.
Baolent’s resolve had transformed from what it had been before.
Soon, with fists clenched tight, Baolent steadied his wavering heart and faced reality head-on.
If there was no escape….
‘Then I must win. Without fail.’
And Belkakrode rose from his seat and spoke to him.
“Then let us begin our preparations.”
A revolution that would be remembered throughout the annals of the Empire’s history.
* * *
The second day, at dawn.
A cool tension settled across the entire plains of Karzadin.
The Kar Tribe had lost so much from a single attack.
Yet they were using that one mistake as a foothold, searching the area around their stronghold with reconnaissance forces.
For after yesterday’s assault, they did not believe those bastards had truly withdrawn.
“Do not neglect your vigilance. They will surely come again.”
“Cowardly wretches. If they dare approach this time, I’ll smash every last head!”
Poison gleamed in the eyes of the Kar Tribe Warriors patrolling around the stronghold.
In a brief battle lasting mere minutes, comrades they had spent long years with had lost their lives.
They tightened their spacing and raised torches to push back the darkness.
Their determination not to suffer as they had yesterday was etched into their every action.
But….
Whoooosh, thud!
“…!”
With that dull sound, someone’s gaze snapped toward the source.
The fur-covered Kar Tribe Warrior, witnessing his comrade’s sudden death beside him, hastily drew the Whistle from his waist.
Whee….
But before that Whistle could even sound.
Thwack!
With a similar sound preceding it, a Short Spear pierced through his neck and passed beyond.
Thump.
Isaac emerged from the Darkness, lowering his body.
And he assessed the movements of the Kar Tribe Warriors before his eyes.
Their patrol formation was reasonably tight.
‘Still insufficient.’
They seemed unable to account for the blind spots that formed when their patrol routes became misaligned with one another.
But the attempt itself was commendable.
If they positioned Scouts at some distance from the stronghold to detect movements in advance, they could respond far more swiftly.
Given the Kar Tribe’s combat style—crude but devastating when engaged—such a method would prove effective.
The only problem was their opponent.
Thump.
Even from a distance, the sound of another body falling echoed forth.
In the Darkness beyond sight.
There, Kailun and Isaac’s gazes met.
A nod.
A nod.
The two exchanged their entire conversation through mere gestures, then turned their heads and raised their hands toward the rear.
Whoosh, whoosh.
Where the Scouts had been silently eliminated.
Silent Spear Battalion members converged on that location.
And Arteon, standing at their vanguard, gazed toward the Kar Tribe stronghold beyond his line of sight.
The distance to the stronghold was less than three hundred meters.
A distance he could cover in mere seconds if running alone.
Yet he had no intention of giving those already preparing for battle any opportunity.
Arteon and the Silent Spear Battalion members lowered their postures into a crouch resembling a duck walk.
“Eliminate all sound and approach swiftly.”
Though the Plains offered no cover, with their bodies lowered, this Darkness alone would suffice to evade their vigilance.
As Arteon moved rapidly in that crouched state.
Shhhhhhhhhhh.
The Silent Spear Battalion members moved in unison behind him.
Though considerably slower than a full sprint, their movements were utterly silent and concealed.
And as Arteon drew near to their stronghold.
“…Hmm?”
A Kar Tribe Warrior standing watch in the watchtower adjacent to the palisade turned his gaze.
Clearly, dozens of warriors had ventured forth to maintain their perimeter.
Yet why did such a strange wind sound reach his ears…?
But he could not resolve his confusion.
Thud!
A spear flew through the air with a dull sound, piercing through the warrior’s forehead.
In the same instant, Arteon infused the Iglis with mana and swung it violently against the palisade before him.
Crash!
A single strike.
The palisade shattered into countless fragments that scattered in all directions.
“They’re here! They’re here!”
“The Imperial dogs have attacked!”
The Kar Tribe Warriors burst forth with a reaction far swifter than the previous day.
But I had already confirmed their formation and capabilities entirely yesterday.
‘Their numbers are overwhelmingly greater, but….’
It was precisely because of those numbers that such a thing became possible.
Whoooooosh!
The Iglis vibrated softly, emanating an aura.
If they rushed at me in a cluster, I would simply respond in kind.
Arteon swung his spear in a wide arc toward them.
Swish!
He had merely cut through empty air.
Yet despite that, the sound of something being severed rang out clearly.
“…What?”
“Wha…?”
The Kar Tribe Warriors rushing forward faltered and came to an abrupt halt.
They sensed something profoundly wrong.
The man was a good twenty meters away when he swung his spear.
Splooooooosh!
Dozens of Kar Tribe Warriors charging toward Arteon were bisected at the waist, their upper and lower bodies separating as they sprayed crimson blood.
Witnessing this impossible spectacle unfold before their eyes, the Silent Spear Battalion swallowed hard, their expressions rigid.
Was this something a human could even accomplish…?
Just as Supreme Commander Belkain had said—surely only a War God could perform such a feat.
And the Kar Tribe Warriors, having lost dozens of comrades in a single strike, found their reason utterly paralyzed.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
“A monster! It’s a monster!”
The Kar Tribe Warriors shrieked in terror and despair.
Never had they anticipated that such a monstrous being would appear in this place.
Moreover, this place lacks even a single warrior strong enough to face such a monster.
“Ah… Ah….”
“W-we… we’re going to die….”
Clang. Clang.
The Kar Tribe Warriors, renowned for their valor, trembled.
Yet several among them had already lost their will to fight, their weapons clattering to the ground from nerveless fingers.
The terror of the stronghold’s swift occupation spread like plague through the entire Kar Tribe force.
And as they watched this unfold.
“Leave not a single one alive… slaughter them all.”
The death sentence had been pronounced.
* * *
“What manner of nonsense is this!”
The air in the Conference Room split asunder.
A voice thick with rage ricocheted off the marble walls.
“The Neolth Kingdom has… attacked Benka, the eastern city!”
Before the messenger could finish his report, the faces of all the ministers hardened in unison.
With that, the letter he carried was passed among them.
“….”
A moment of silence.
But the quiet did not endure.
As if that brief moment had served as a detonator, voices erupted like an explosion.
“Preposterous!”
“This is no mere localized skirmish?”
“Benka is the gateway to the east! If it falls, the entire eastern region will be occupied in an instant!”
The messenger swallowed hard and continued.
“Currently… Benka has fallen. The Neolth forces have taken the city in merely two days and are now advancing their momentum toward Urotran.”
“W-what?!”
The Conference Room erupted in chaos.
Benka was no mere frontier city.
It was the heart of the eastern trade routes and a shield protecting the Empire’s eastern flank.
Yet it had fallen in merely two days!
“What in blazes were the border garrison doing!”
“How is this even possible? What were the castle walls and stationed troops doing!”
Cries of rage, panic, and terror erupted in succession.
And then.
Boom!
The table rang out with a heavy sound.
At that, everyone in the Conference Room held their breath in unison.
Then a quiet voice spread through the chamber.
“All of you, silence yourselves.”
Taifren Pauriut.
As the Empire’s Prime Minister, he had served the Emperor for decades and stood foremost among the architects of the Empire’s prosperity.
Despite having passed sixty winters, his spine remained unbent, and his gaze still held the keenness of a blade.
He slowly lifted his head, looking down upon the assembled ministers, and spoke in a low voice.
“The Blood Lion Knights have moved, have they not.”
A single sentence.
Yet the moment those words fell, the noise in the Conference Room ceased as though it had never been.
The Blood Lion Knights.
The elite knights of the Neolth Kingdom.
And Giorak Vanklo, who stood at their vanguard, was counted among the three mightiest warriors within the Neolth Kingdom itself.
Having ascended to the 7-Star realm, his merciless, tyrannical Sword Technique was known to be absolute hell for those who faced him.
Taifren regarded the assembled ministers with eyes as ominous as those of a young warrior.
“With His Majesty having fallen into slumber, and our military strength now torn asunder between north and south by the Imperial Succession War… one might say this is precisely the most perfect moment for those bastards, would you not agree.”
Save for ‘him’ who guards the Emperor, there were scarcely one or two who could stand against the Neolth Kingdom’s armies.
Taifren’s gaze fell upon a single man seated in a corner.
It was Duke Carbain Eisenhardt, who remained silent and tight-lipped even amidst the clamorous discussion, steadfast in his seat.
Taifren spoke with careful deliberation.
“Would it be possible… to ask for your aid.”
“….”
He shifted his gaze, lightly sweeping across the assembled ministers.
A pressure so intense that bodies shrank beneath it, conveyed by sight alone.
To think such a thing could be achieved without even releasing a hint of Aura.
As the others flinched and averted their eyes, Carbain looked toward Taifren and spoke.
“Prepare the soldiers. I shall go myself.”
“Thank you.”
Soon after the Conference Room dispersed, the elite troops stationed at the Imperial Palace assembled and completed their preparations for departure.
And at their vanguard.
“The longer we delay, the more citizens of the Empire lose their lives. We move with utmost speed.”
With Carbain’s command, the Capital’s forces began their march eastward.

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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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