The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 263

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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 (263)
“Ah….”
Captain Hercaron and the soldiers remaining in the Training Ground could only swallow hard.
Their minds refused to accept that the spectacle unfolding before their eyes was reality.
The Nocturne Assassins, cultivated with painstaking care by Belkakrode.
They were far more than a simple assassination group.
All of them were at least 4-Star Level and capable of wielding Aura.
Though their numbers barely exceeded fifty, should they cross the border under cover of night with the intention to assassinate key figures,
a small kingdom could be erased from the map in less than a day with their military strength.
And such beings were now—
Screech!
Squelch!
“Ugh…!”
The moment the Spear pierced his chest, one of the Nocturne Assassins coughed blood and grasped the Spear Shaft of Iglis.
Even as death became certain, he wrung out his willpower like squeezing the final second from existence.
It was to bind Arteon’s movements, if only for a single moment.
But it was merely a futile struggle.
Crack!
Arteon twisted the Spear Blade without hesitation.
The sensation of bone and muscle tearing transmitted through his fingertips, and the assassin’s body split in half along with both arms.
Whoosh!
Arteon’s form, which had clearly existed before their eyes, vanished in the next instant.
‘Not magic…’
The thought that flashed through Hercaron’s mind.
He felt the wave of Aura.
Moreover, there was no trace of space distortion, no lingering Mana.
And yet…
How could a human move like this?
The soldiers found themselves retreating backward without realizing it.
No one had issued an order, and they hadn’t exchanged glances.
It was instinct.
The primal instinct of a living creature that they had no right to interfere in this battle, or rather, that they would die if they drew near.
Boom!
An assassin struck by the Spear crashed through the wall of the Imperial Palace corridor and was hurled outside.
Stone shattered and dust exploded, cracks spreading like a spider’s web.
The surrounding area was already devastated to the point where collapse at any moment would be unsurprising.
“Uaaaaaaaaaagh!”
“Die!”
The highest-level assassins of Nocturne.
Yet now, they could no longer be called ‘assassins’.
All stealth, all composure—cast aside. They threw themselves forward with the desperation of those vomiting out their emotions.
They understood it too.
That there was no escape from this place.
How much support and blood had they consumed to grow for this very moment?
If they fled from here… nowhere on this continent would offer them sanctuary.
So instead, here.
Squelch!
“Ggghhk….”
Arteon withdrew the Spear from the assassin’s torso with eyes devoid of all emotion, moving with deliberate slowness.
Even the sound of blood dripping to the ground seemed to escape his notice.
I surveyed my surroundings.
Only about ten remained now.
Fear dwelt in their eyes before any Killing Intent could take root.
Nocturne’s highest-tier assassins.
Beings spoken of as monsters among monsters.
Simply reaching the Aura Realm required bone-grinding effort.
And these—they had mastered the Stealth, judgment, and control of Killing Intent that assassins must possess.
Their depth of training was entirely different from ordinary 4-Star Level warriors.
Because of this, Arteon spoke to them with perfect calm.
“I cannot let you leave.”
When, how, and in what form they might become a threat—none of it could be predicted.
There was no reason to leave that possibility alive.
Then Arteon drew forth his Aura.
Uuuuuung!
The air trembled.
Golden ripples seeped into the pillars, floor, and walls throughout the Imperial Palace interior.
“So now, let us end this.”
I saw the assassins’ eyes change.
If those guys scattered and fled simultaneously, even I would find it difficult to capture them all at once.
Arteon spun the Spear in circles.
Then reversed his grip.
Boom!
The instant Arteon drove the Iglis Spear down upon the ground.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom crash!
Golden Spears erupted from where the assassins stood.
As though the earth itself were vomiting forth Spears.
Every trajectory of the golden Spears that rose in an instant pierced through only the assassins with perfect precision, not a single deviation.
“Hah, huh!”
“Ughh!”
Hercaron and the soldiers around him held their breath.
Surely, this absurd Aura of power…
‘To wield it with such precision…?’
Not a single scratch had befallen their side.
Dozens of Aura Spears discharged with this level of refinement.
The assassins pierced by the spears trembled violently, unable to move, their eyes fixed upon Arteon.
As if they had never imagined they would meet such a hollow end, despite having risen to the highest echelons of Nocturne.
In their gaze fixed upon Arteon, fear and reverence mingled as one.
‘C-could it be….’
A second 8-Star Warrior had emerged in the Empire.
In that instant, words he had heard not long ago flickered through his mind.
A Warrior God who had appeared in the Northern Region.
‘Could it be….’
That such a young Rookie… no, such a young one.
The assassin’s head slowly fell.
Thus, his final breath was severed.
Arteon lightly swung the Iglis Spear through the air, shaking the blood from it.
The golden energy gradually subsided.
Then he turned to address the soldiers.
“Exit through the North Gate and rejoin Prince Sedrian. There is no need to kneel. But lower your heads and apologize for what has transpired here.”
Yet for these soldiers, such a reunion would not come easily.
Arteon, pausing briefly, added while looking at Captain Hercaron.
“If you invoke my name there, you will come to no harm.”
“Y-your name… what might it be?”
“Arteon.”
With that brief answer, Arteon turned his steps once more toward the depths of the Imperial Palace.
Left in his wake were only speechless soldiers and silence stained with blood.
Soon now….
‘Wait just a little longer.’
Only the most crucial battle remained—the one that would bridge my past life and the present.
Arteon’s gaze, more resolute and heavy than ever before, stretched toward the depths of the Imperial Palace.
* * *
The air before the East Gate hung heavy and still.
In that hour when dawn and night had not yet divided their boundary, torches hanging upon the Castle Wall swayed in the wind, casting irregular shadows upon the ground.
The stone floor was already marred by scratches from multiple collisions, mingled with dust, and the rough breathing of soldiers echoed like a refrain from within the City Gate.
Lucael and the Silverwolf Knight Order were arrayed in a semicircle formation.
Not a Defensive Formation, but a positioning for suppression.
Sword tips did not aim for the heart, and the focus was on pushing back and striking rather than cutting.
This very fact made the battle all the more difficult.
‘Do not forget—these are all Imperial Citizens.’
The words Prince Sedrian had spoken just before departure flickered through his mind once more.
They were not enemies, but those who had fought beneath the same banner.
Circumstances had merely divided them for unavoidable reasons, but their essence remained unchanged.
“Haaaaaaagh!”
A soldier gritted his teeth and charged forward.
The spear tip trembled.
It was a movement driven by fear rather than fury.
Against his charge, Lucael lowered his body and lightly raised his sword, deflecting the soldier’s spear to the side.
“Hah, huff!”
In that instant, as the spear tip twisted away and the soldier’s balance shattered, he gasped at empty air.
‘I’m… going to die.’
Terror flashed through his mind.
It was the moment his body lurched forward, about to fall.
Crash!
“…!”
With tremendous impact against his chest, the soldier was sent flying backward.
So this is death.
That thought crossed his mind.
“Krrgh!”
With a dull pain, the soldier who had fallen to the ground cried out.
In that fleeting moment, it was the flat of the blade, not the edge, that had struck his chest.
“Ugh…!”
Pain flooded through him, and his face contorted involuntarily. Yet relief washed over him at still being alive, and gratitude bloomed within.
“…”
Lucael observed the fallen soldiers trembling on the ground, unable to rise.
Many soldiers could not maintain their balance, or bore injuries where an arm or leg had been broken.
But none of them were dead.
Among those who had fallen, some bore expressions of resentment, while others gazed at him with bewildered eyes.
And the Silverwolf Knight Order, like Lucael, were also disarming soldiers using the flat of their blades or the pommel of their handles rather than the edge.
Neutralizing an opponent without killing them proved far more difficult than anticipated.
As soldiers rose again and charged, they had to be struck down a second time, a third time.
Because they could not kill, they had to carefully control their strength, and in doing so, both mental and physical stamina were consumed twofold.
Yet despite this, they voiced no complaints.
They all shared the same conviction.
“Hah…”
And gradually, the intensity of the battlefield began to subside.
Many soldiers lay wounded, and through this, the ferocity of the battle was slowly drawing to its end.
Lucael exhaled and stepped forward.
Aura concentrated at the tip of his sword.
Lucael raised his sword high, then brought it down forcefully against the ground.
Crash!
The shockwave that struck the ground rippled outward like a wave, shaking the soldiers’ feet.
A sensation as if the very air were splitting apart.
In that moment, everyone instinctively understood.
That no matter how much longer they fought, victory was impossible.
And then, Lucael’s voice cut through the battlefield.
“If you lay down your weapons now, I will spare your lives.”
Without tensing the hand that gripped his sword, he gazed directly at the soldiers.
“This act of treason will soon end. And Prince Sedrian is already aware of all your unavoidable circumstances.”
Murmurs rippled through the ranks of soldiers.
Those words were no threat.
They were a promise.
“So surrender your weapons and yield.”
A moment of silence.
It was the commander standing at the front who broke that stillness.
Clang!
The sword in his hand clattered loudly as it fell to the ground.
The soldiers nearby flinched at the sound and looked toward their commander.
Yet the commander, bearing all their gazes, looked at Lucael and asked.
“Is it truly possible that we all survive?”
Anxiety and doubt mingled in the eyes fixed upon Lucael.
But Lucael nodded without the slightest hesitation.
“That is precisely why we subdued you without killing.”
He took another step forward.
“Prince Sedrian does not wish for soldiers of the same Empire to shed blood against one another.”
The commander’s shoulders visibly sagged.
He dropped to one knee and bowed his head deeply.
“I shall trust the words of the honorable General Lukael Hargail.”
He had already known.
That those fighting them were Lucael and the Silverwolf Knight Order.
Though he knew they faced an unbeatable enemy, they had to fight because they understood that if this rebellion failed, they would all die.
He took a moment to steady his breath, then added in a trembling voice.
“I do not care what becomes of me. But my subordinates—I beg you, please spare their lives.”
Lucael approached him and quietly placed a hand on his shoulder.
There was neither oppression nor pity in that touch.
It was simply the manner of one addressing a comrade.
“You are no different.”
His voice was low but unmistakable.
“Thank you for finding the courage to do what was difficult.”
At those words, the commander bowed his head even deeper.
Lucael raised his head and looked around at his surroundings.
Soldiers who had lowered their weapons, those still standing undecided, and those who had collapsed to the ground.
To all of them, he spoke as if making a proclamation.
“This battle is over!”
His voice resonated through the East Gate.
“And before the sun rises today….”
Lucael paused, his gaze turning toward the Imperial Palace.
A direction visible even through the darkness.
The epicenter of all this chaos.
“This rebellion will be ended.”
With those words, the last tension lingering at the East Gate gradually dissipated.
Dawn had not yet arrived, but at least here, the night was drawing to a close.
And Lucael knew.
The true battle was only now unfolding at the heart of it all.

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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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