The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 281

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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 (281)
The air of the battlefield warped and twisted violently.
The stench of blood mingled with the acrid smell of scorched earth and the screams of soldiers who had been alive mere moments before, transforming the border region into utter chaos.
Helior gazed upon the scene with trembling eyes.
I had spent my entire life on the battlefield and witnessed countless battles. There had been defeats and victories alike.
Yet this spectacle unfolding before me now… could scarcely be called a battle.
It was one-sided destruction.
Just seconds ago, the Formation of Shield Bearers and Spearmen had been locked together in perfect cohesion.
The pride of the Kaerbaldt Border garrison that had endured for decades—an iron defense line that no army had ever easily breached.
All of it…
Collapsed with a single swing.
“Hah… hah…”
A hollow breath escaped Helior’s lips.
In the center of his vision, a single figure stood, cutting through the dust.
A golden Aura enveloped his body.
It shone with a brilliance as if cradling sunlight itself, yet simultaneously radiated a suffocating pressure.
He slowly raised his head.
Where in the world had such a monster emerged from?
“Is… is this even human…?”
The Adjutant beside Helior muttered.
His hand gripped a Sword, but the Handle trembled faintly.
In that instant.
Boom!
Arteon’s foot struck the ground.
A simple burst of speed, yet the earth of the Hill caved inward and dust erupted upward.
The next moment, his body shot forward like an arrow.
“Don’t… don’t panic! Maintain Formation!”
Helior shouted.
But fear had already taken deep root in the soldiers’ eyes.
Crash!
Arteon thrust his Spear forward.
A simple Thrusting. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet in the wake of its trajectory…
Twenty-odd soldiers standing with Spears were simultaneously launched into the air.
“Aaaaaahhh!”
Their bodies tangled together as they crashed to the ground with screams.
Shields crumpled, Armor cracked. Some didn’t even manage to land before going still.
“Charge him! Shield Bearers, deflect him with your Shields! Then immediately create distance and attack with Throwing Spears!”
But before his words even finished.
Whoooosh!
Arteon’s spear traced a perfect arc.
With the sound of air being cleaved, the soldiers’ shields and spear shafts were severed simultaneously.
Through that opening, Arteon’s footsteps surged forward.
Too fast.
No, not fast—it merely appeared so.
Rather… it felt natural.
Like water flowing, like wind passing through.
“Why… why do they move so slowly….”
In my vision, the soldiers’ movements unfolded with an eerie sluggishness.
The swords being swung, the spears being hurled, the arrows flying through the air.
Everything appeared slow.
I felt no sense of urgency to evade. The option of being struck by such attacks simply did not exist.
My body moved of its own accord, finding the most efficient trajectory.
Tap.
Arteon gently deflected the soldier’s sword with the tip of my spear.
I had not even applied force.
Yet the blade was sent spinning into the void.
“Ugh…!”
The moment the soldier’s eyes widened.
Thunk.
The spear blade pierced precisely through the gap in his armor.
Just before his breath was cut short, the soldier’s hand grasped the spear shaft.
Crack!
As Arteon twisted and withdrew the spear, blood sprayed forth along with the severed hand.
I paused for a moment.
My breathing was not labored.
Even my heartbeat remained serene.
Though the battlefield still echoed with screams, within me there was an unnaturally profound silence.
‘…Is this.’
Arteon slowly closed my eyes, then opened them.
‘Who I am now.’
It was not a surge of strength or heightened emotion.
Rather… everything was crystalline.
Where to thrust to bring collapse.
Which movement would be fastest.
Which choice would claim the most lives.
Coldly, perfectly clear.
That was when it came.
“Reform the battle line! Encircle that bastard!”
At Helior’s cry, the remaining soldiers clenched their teeth and moved.
Raising shields and leveling spears, they began forming a circular Formation.
Even amid their fear, the instincts of soldiers were still functioning.
Arteon observed the sight before him.
And….
Whoosh.
Arteon adjusted his grip on Iglis. Then, gazing at them, he spoke softly.
“A good Formation.”
It was no mockery.
Even in such circumstances, holding their ground and displaying Fighting Spirit deserved nothing less than praise.
It was only a pity that such soldiers stood as enemies.
“Hah.”
Arteon exhaled lightly. And before that breath could even dissipate into the air.
His foot drove into the ground once more.
This time, far deeper.
Boom!
The earth erupted upward as Arteon’s body burrowed into the heart of the Encirclement.
* * *
A very long time ago.
Before being transferred to the Northern Region, there had been one occasion when I witnessed him fight.
At that time, the only 8th Star Warrior on the Continent.
Carbain Eisenhardt as he stood in war.
The thrill I felt then remained vivid in memory even now, more than ten years later.
Truly overwhelming destructive power.
An overwhelming presence that made one wonder if this was what a War God would look like, should such a being exist.
Yet now, ten years later, that same thrill flowed before Belkain’s eyes once more.
“….”
Without question, the Empire would henceforth move around Arteon as its center.
Whatever he wished to accomplish, he would be capable of achieving it.
‘Even if all the Kingdoms on the Continent formed an alliance….’
It would no longer be easy.
For such was the nature of an 8th Star Warrior.
Claw, who stood beside him, then spoke.
“Truly… is he not far more formidable than I recall from years past?”
“…Indeed.”
Belkain answered calmly.
But as he glanced at Claw, Claw nodded.
“All forces, advance!”
“Battle Stations! Advance!”
Buuuuuuuuuuuu!
The Horn signaling the advance rang out across the entire Border region.
The Imperial Soldiers arrayed alongside him surged forward in formation.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
The cavalry moved first.
Two thousand mounted warriors rapidly ascended the hill along the strategic pass Arteon had carved out.
And behind them.
“We advance directly in the cavalry’s wake.”
“Yes!”
“Understood!”
At Isaac’s command, the Silent Spear Battalion—an independent unit—swiftly climbed the hillside.
Merely three thousand strong.
By numbers alone, it might seem unremarkable, but these were the two mightiest units among the twenty thousand troops.
Moreover, the Silent Spear Battalion, with only a thousand soldiers, possessed the combat strength of over ten thousand infantry.
Arteon was formidable, yet continuous expenditure of Aura and physical strength would inevitably exhaust him.
The strategy was simple.
First, shatter the enemy’s formation and crush their morale, then immediately follow with the Main Force to overwhelm them.
‘In truth… there was scarcely any strategy to speak of.’
In a war where an 8th Star warrior existed, a commander’s role held little significance.
One need only maintain the center.
“Uaaaaaaaaaah!”
“Slaughter them all!”
“You bastards! So eager when you were pushing in, were you?!”
“Kill them all!”
The Silent Spear Battalion, ascending the hill in pursuit of the cavalry, displayed an excitement beyond their usual demeanor.
The moment they glimpsed the enemy soldiers clad in Kaerbaldt armor, the horrific scenes from Robeltia flooded their vision.
Rip! Squelch!
“Gaaaahhhhh!”
“P-please, spare me!”
It was war, yet it could not be called war.
It was nothing short of one-sided slaughter, and Helior, the Kaerbaldt Kingdom’s commander, felt the blood drain from his face.
“R-retreat! Retreat!”
There was nothing to be done.
The moment a single monstrous spearman radiating golden Aura shattered the formation, the war was already lost.
Now came the time to flee.
If he could preserve his life, he might yet salvage something from this disaster.
Helior turned his horse’s head with the retreat command, faster than anyone else.
But that very instant.
“The commander turns his back first. It speaks volumes of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom’s caliber.”
A clear voice from directly beside him.
Helios instinctively swung his sword toward the source of the sound.
Whoosh!
But the blade never made contact.
In that moment, my extended elbow ached uselessly as I merely sliced through empty air.
Serch.
With a brief cutting sound, his head and neck separated.
“Neeeeiiiighhhhh!”
The horse, now masterless, reared up on its hind legs and cried out loudly.
Thud.
Helios’s corpse fell limply to the ground.
Arteon then impaled Helios’s severed head upon his Spear and raised it high, bellowing across the Battlefield.
“The enemy Commander is dead! Lay down your weapons and surrender at once! Refuse, and I will exterminate every last one of you!”
His voice, infused with Mana, reverberated across the Battlefield with thunderous clarity.
In an instant, the atmosphere of the Battlefield froze, and the soldiers of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom turned their heads to confirm Helios’s severed head.
“Wh-Helios…?!”
“No… I can’t fight anymore!”
“Neither can I!”
Clang, clang!
The soldiers of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom dropped their weapons to the ground and fell to their knees.
Soldiers began pouring forth, raising both hands in surrender and crying out their capitulation.
Whoosh.
Arteon gazed down at Belkain below the Hill.
“…As expected.”
Belkain murmured softly and nodded.
From the start, there had been no intention to slaughter all the soldiers. It was merely a matter of overwhelming them decisively.
The atmosphere swiftly dissipated, and the battle at the Border came to an end.
But this alone was insufficient.
“Continue the advance.”
With the order from Supreme Commander Belkain, the Imperial Army set foot into the lands of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom.
It had to be carved into their very bones.
Fear that would arise merely from the sight of Imperial Armor.
Negotiations would come later.
* * *
“What… what am I to do…?!”
The King of the Kaerbaldt Kingdom.
Zerperon Kaerbalt could not believe the current situation.
It was entirely different from when he and the Ermatir Kingdom had advanced into the Empire before.
Unlike when the Imperial forces in the Southern Region had been largely withdrawn for the rebellion of the Empire’s Second Prince, Belkakrode.
“Despite thorough preparation…”
The Kaerbaldt Kingdom had concentrated its forces and launched a total offensive in preparation for the Imperial advance.
Yet the result was the same.
In merely three days, the Border and an entire city had been completely conquered, and the number of fallen soldiers exceeded four thousand.
What differed from them, however, was this:
“…It appears they never laid a hand on civilians.”
“There were a few incidents, but the Empire punished them quite thoroughly from within. After that, not a single Imperial Soldier touched a civilian.”
They had not harmed those unrelated to the war.
It was magnanimity itself, the very mercy the Empire extended.
Upon hearing that report,
“…What of the Ermatir Kingdom.”
“Cowardly bastards. They kept troops stationed to the west, waiting. They likely intended to strike our flank while we were engaged in battle.”
But such an opportunity never came to pass.
They were overwhelmed at an absurd pace.
The Ermatir Kingdom must have been equally bewildered.
At that, Zerperon Kaerbalt shut his eyes tightly.
“…Issue a declaration of surrender. Send an emissary to the Imperial Army’s Formation at once.”
With no other choice, all the ministers could only lower their heads in self-reproach.
The war… had ended.

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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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