The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 275

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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 (275)
Eastern Outskirts of Robeltia.
Between buildings engulfed in flames, the forces of the Ermatir Kingdom dominated the city.
Prisoners were dragged out from every corner, while carriages were methodically loaded with spoils of war.
Marcelo Belofrokus, the commander of the Ermatir Kingdom, stood atop the crumbled castle wall, surveying the city below.
Even amid the landscape of blood and smoke, his expression remained unmoved.
The battle was already over.
All that remained was cleanup and plunder.
“At this rate, we can begin preparations for withdrawal before sunset.”
His gaze turned westward as he murmured the words.
The forces of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom would surely be controlling the North Gate as well.
It was then.
“C-Commander! Disaster!”
An urgent cry echoed from behind.
A soldier came rushing up, gasping for breath, and dropped to one knee without composure.
Marcelo’s brow furrowed slightly.
“What is it?”
The city was already occupied.
Any problems would amount to nothing more than minor skirmishes during the looting or perhaps a prisoner uprising.
The soldier’s excessive alarm was distasteful.
Yet the soldier’s face was ashen.
“Imperial Army troops have been deployed from the north and are entering the city. The scale appears to be approximately one thousand soldiers.”
“One thousand?”
Marcelo’s brow creased.
Was this panic truly warranted over a mere thousand-man deployment?
“What could one thousand soldiers possibly accomplish?”
War was a matter of numbers.
No matter how elite, one thousand troops facing nearly forty thousand allied forces would be nothing short of suicide.
“Even if those thousand were all Knights, it would be meaningless….”
Besides, they themselves had several 6-Star Warriors fighting alongside them.
His gaze bore down upon the soldier.
“Unless Duke Carbain himself arrives, it is impossible for the Imperial Army to reverse this front line.”
His voice carried absolute certainty.
Yet the soldier could not lift his head.
His voice trembled faintly instead.
“…B-but….”
Marcelo’s eyes narrowed.
“About one hour into the battle… the forces of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom are withdrawing.”
“…What did you say?”
Marcelo’s gaze sharpened with a violent tremor.
A retreat?
What kind of nonsense was this?
But the soldier’s next words were even more absurd.
“The current casualty count for the Kaerbaldt Kingdom is estimated at approximately one thousand fallen.”
“…!”
Marcelo’s entire body trembled violently.
The Imperial Army had only been deployed mere moments ago….
“W-wasn’t it just an hour ago…?”
“…Yes, sir.”
“Yet a thousand casualties?!”
Marcelo’s voice erupted in fury.
Was this some kind of jest?
But the soldier only bowed deeper, his voice trembling as he continued.
“T-that figure is merely a conservative estimate, as we haven’t yet fully assessed the damage… It appears casualties are mounting even as we speak.”
And most critically of all.
“And… they are advancing toward us now, Commander.”
At the soldier’s words, Marcelo’s gaze fixed northward.
* * *
Even witnessing it with my own eyes, experiencing it with my own body, I could not believe it.
Derkarn Kaelbrix, commander of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom, stood beyond the collapsed North Gate, breathing heavily as he ordered the withdrawal of his forces.
“Rear guard, fall back! Load the wounded onto horses and move them out first!”
His voice remained as steady as he could maintain it, yet the trembling at his fingertips could not be concealed.
Truly, destructive power beyond comprehension.
A single swing had toppled the castle wall, and hundreds of elite soldiers had vanished.
The battlefield where swords and shields, armor and flesh had been torn apart indistinguishably.
No—even now, that sight flickered before my eyes.
‘N-not Duke Carbain….’
The face was unmistakably young.
If anything, one might even call it youthful.
And yet….
‘How could this… be possible….’
My pupils dilated sharply.
Power of that magnitude could not be explained unless it was 8th Star.
7th Star? No, 7th Star was impossible. I had witnessed 7th Star warriors firsthand.
I knew the limits of their strength, how they transformed the battlefield.
But this.
‘They weren’t changing the battlefield… they were erasing it.’
A sensation of my mind going blank with shock.
Then the Empire possessed two 8th Star warriors?
Duke Carbain.
And that monster wielding a Spear.
“No… I have to retreat.”
A low groan escaped his lips.
Two 8-Star Warriors.
This transcended mere threat—it was catastrophic.
It was a matter that would send the entire Continent into crisis.
Until now, the Empire had boasted overwhelming dominance as the Continent’s supreme power.
Carbain, an 8-Star Warrior, possessed such absolute strength that he alone could reshape the Battlefield’s momentum and crush all opposition.
Yet despite wielding such formidable power, the Empire controlled only thirty percent of the Continent—and there was a reason for this.
It was the fear of the allied kingdoms surrounding them.
If the Empire waged territorial conquest with Carbain as their overwhelming Sword, they could ‘certainly’ subjugate the entire Continent.
But if other kingdoms united and struck the Empire while Carbain was away defending it, the Empire would suffer catastrophic losses.
Therefore, Carbain could only be a ‘defensive’ Sword maintaining the Empire’s strength, never an ‘offensive’ one.
But if there were two 8-Star Warriors, everything changed.
With Carbain as the Empire’s shield and this new Warrior leading conquest campaigns…
Cold sweat trickled down Derkarn’s spine.
“Send a Letter to the Kingdom immediately! As fast as possible! Record every detail without omission!”
“Yes, sir!”
The Messenger wheeled his horse and charged away.
Even as he retreated, Derkarn’s heart thundered wildly.
This was no mere matter of victory or defeat in this war—the fate of the entire Continent hung in the balance.
‘I must escape.’
In warfare, troop numbers held tremendous importance.
Overwhelming numerical superiority alone could secure victory momentum.
‘But from 7-Star rank onward, a single Warrior could alter the Battlefield’s flow.’
One human could exert influence equivalent to—or exceeding—ten thousand Soldiers.
Yet with 8-Star rank, even assessing that level became impossible.
One could never guarantee that three or four 7-Star Warriors could defeat a single 8-Star Warrior.
And now, before my eyes, such an impossible—such a natural disaster of a human—had appeared.
I had to escape unconditionally.
‘Even using the Ermatir Kingdom as a shield, I must escape somehow.’
In less than an hour, over a thousand Soldiers had fallen.
Only because Imperial Citizens and Soldiers remained could that monster not rampage freely.
Had only we been here, a thousand would be nothing—ten thousand might have died.
“Left flank, redirect eastward! Feign a junction with Ermatir forces and withdraw!”
As the order fell, Soldiers scrambled into motion.
In that instant.
Golden light flashed brilliantly in the distance once more.
CRASH!
Another structure collapsed.
Derkarn instinctively bowed his head.
His heart pounded as though it might burst from his chest.
‘From here on out….’
Depending on how the Empire wielded that power, the entire Continent would enter a completely different era.
What would unfold was unpredictable—a situation beyond all foresight.
With honor cast to the ground, Derkarn fled with every ounce of strength, his eyes turbulent with conflicting emotions.
* * *
Retreat! Fall back! Retreat!
Marcelo Belofrokus, Commander of the Ermatir Kingdom, screamed until his voice grew hoarse.
The unit following the man wielding a Spear while radiating a golden Aura possessed a strength unlike any force he had encountered on the Battlefield.
The Ermatir Kingdom’s troops stationed here numbered twenty thousand strong.
And yet….
‘We cannot win this…!’
Facing an enemy force of merely a thousand, he could not guarantee victory.
He had recognized it the moment they met.
That man wielding the golden Aura was the Empire’s second 8-Star Warrior.
An 8-Star represented a human whose power alone reached toward the heavens—a being of extraordinary magnitude.
To face such a force unprepared would be like a small sailing vessel standing before a tidal wave.
‘That damned Derkarn…!’
He must have known.
That an 8-Star Warrior accompanied the Empire’s deployed forces.
Yet he had feigned moving his troops to join their ranks.
‘Using us as a shield while he retreated….’
He had slipped away to the South with masterful precision.
The timing had been so exquisite that Marcelo himself had nearly been deceived into believing they would merge their forces.
‘Of course… even if we had joined, it would not have changed much.’
The terrain was far too disadvantageous.
This was not a place where numerical superiority could be fully leveraged.
‘First, I must withdraw… and inform the Kingdom of this situation.’
That the Empire had produced a second 8-Star Warrior.
If that man were left unchecked, unthinkable consequences would follow.
“Retreat! Break through the East Gate and secure our withdrawal route!”
“Yes!”
“Understood!”
The Soldiers, recognizing the urgency of their plight, began moving with desperate haste.
As the Ermatir Kingdom’s forces rapidly commenced their withdrawal.
Swiftly.
Arteon, who had been charging forward at speed, gradually slowed and came to a halt.
Then, as Arteon raised his hand and clenched his fist, Isaac behind him cried out loudly.
“Halt! All units, maintain Formation!”
We maintained vigilance around the perimeter against any unforeseen circumstances, but the enemy’s pursuit had ceased.
Only then did the Silent Spear Battalion members catch their breath, form up their ranks, and take their positions.
“Are we no longer pursuing them?”
Isaac approached Arteon and asked. Arteon nodded in response.
“For now, driving them out is what matters most. Once they’ve clearly moved beyond the city, we’ll assess our wounded and reorganize the interior.”
“…Understood.”
The situation within Robeltia itself was already in disarray.
Reorganizing this place alone would require considerable manpower and time.
Moreover…
“Huff… huff… huff…!”
They had ridden relentlessly for three days and nights through treacherous terrain, and upon arriving at Robeltia, they had immediately engaged in battle against an absurd number of enemies.
One could hardly be blamed for thinking each squad member was superhuman, given how harshly they had been driven.
Isaac spoke.
“First, I’ll have the squad members rest.”
“Understood. And Isaac, you come with me to assess the situation here.”
Arteon turned his gaze toward Kailun.
Without making a show of it or stepping into the spotlight, Kailun quietly fulfilled his role.
From the Northern Front’s battlefield to this place.
Since joining the army, his demeanor had changed completely from when he trained under Leonhardt.
Where once he had seemed quite carefree, he now carried himself with far greater gravity.
Arteon spoke to Kailun, watching him.
“What will you do?”
Though Kailun was assisting the Silent Spear Battalion, he was not my subordinate.
I had asked because our relationship was not one where I could issue orders arbitrarily.
But Kailun…
“I’ll come with you. I’m still capable of moving.”
The higher one’s Aura Realm, the greater one’s exceptional physical endurance and powerful physique compared to ordinary people.
His condition was necessarily better than that of squad members who had yet to manifest their Aura.
When Kailun offered to help, Arteon nodded.
“Then we’ll leave the critically wounded we can’t treat immediately for now, and prioritize supporting those who can be treated, gathering them in one place.”
Arteon spoke quietly to his squad members.
“You’ll rest while constructing a barracks here to house the wounded. Each company will take turns resting for one hour, so move quickly.”
The squad members nodded at Arteon’s words as if they had anticipated it.
There was no way Arteon would let all a thousand squad members rest at once.
Since this was such a familiar situation, they quickly divided their roles.
While the 1st Company rested, the 2nd Company would construct the barracks, and the 3rd Company would move the wounded to the barracks.
Then Arteon spoke.
“Let’s move.”
Right now… there were far too many tasks that needed immediate attention.
But then…
Grip.
Someone seized Arteon’s hand.

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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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