The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 304

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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 (304)
The bitter cold of the Northern Region pierced deep into my lungs.
“Haah… haah…!”
Ragged breathing erupted from every direction.
It was the freezing weather of the Northern Region.
On any ordinary day, breath would have crystallized into white clouds in such air, but now, on the path surrounding the Training Ground, an entirely different scene unfolded.
Sweat streamed from foreheads, down the napes of necks, along spines—drenching clothes completely.
Some bent forward, gasping for breath; others clenched their teeth and ran forward with unwavering focus.
Eight hours had already elapsed.
When the Training Ground doors first opened and the volunteers lined up, the atmosphere had been entirely different.
“The first test is simple.”
Isaac spoke in an indifferent tone. Then he pointed toward the outer perimeter of the territory and said quietly:
“From now on, you run along the outer walls of the territory. I will not entertain any questions. The moment you show doubt, you’re disqualified. Remember that.”
That was all he said.
At that moment, opinions diverged among most of the volunteers.
Some called it an absurd test; others stifled their laughter.
It was simply too mundane and unremarkable to serve as an effective screening mechanism.
So everyone ran without raising objections.
But…
“Haah…! Haah…!”
“Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!”
Shortly after, not a single person harbored such thoughts anymore.
“The moment your feet stop, you’re disqualified.”
Isaac’s voice rang out again.
“Keep running!”
He never revealed when it would end.
Perhaps that was what made it so brutal.
With no indication of when the ordeal would conclude, there was no way to gauge how to distribute one’s physical strength.
It was a test that broke the mind before it broke the body.
And as time passed, people began dropping out one by one.
First, a handful.
Then dozens.
By the time the sun climbed high, afternoon faded, and evening approached, hundreds had been disqualified.
And when night fell, bringing with it the Northern Region’s bitter cold and darkness:
The number of those still running had noticeably dwindled.
“Insane bastards…”
Someone muttered breathlessly.
“Is this really a test?”
The man running ahead gritted his teeth.
“How much longer are we supposed to keep going…!”
Discontent was growing by the moment.
My body was already approaching its limit, and my mind was beginning to fog.
That was when it happened.
“But….”
A man spoke between heavy breaths.
“Who are those people?”
He pointed ahead.
“They’re even carrying bags…?”
At his words, several people shifted their gaze.
With so many applicants, there had been no opportunity to observe others.
But as failures began to occur and the numbers dwindled, they gradually became aware of the figures running differently around them.
About twenty people running ahead of them.
Their movements were different from everyone else’s.
Though some appeared somewhat fatigued, their breathing was not labored, and especially….
‘What is that posture…?’
They ran with a form that showed absolutely no collapse or deterioration.
And most astonishing of all.
“…Insane.”
It was because of the bags on their backs—each one the size of a human body.
Though I couldn’t know what was inside, the heavy way they shifted with each stride suggested they were far from ordinary.
Yet despite all this, they ran without the slightest change in expression.
Then someone spoke.
“Damn it! What the hell are those bastards…!”
“Seniors.”
“…?!”
A quiet voice came from beside him at that moment.
The man who had cursed flinched in surprise and turned his head to the side.
Isaac, who had somehow drawn alongside them, spoke quietly.
“They are the seniors of the Silent Spear Battalion you all so desperately wanted to join.”
Then Isaac looked at the group beside him.
“A meaningless test? Efficiency?”
Isaac’s gaze turned cold and sharp.
Their expressions hardened rigidly at that gaze.
Isaac spoke to them.
“Will you search for meaning and efficiency while fighting in war? On a Battlefield where most die without even understanding why they die or why they fight?”
At Isaac’s words, they swallowed involuntarily.
It was neither anger nor shouting.
He simply spoke calmly.
‘His, his gaze….’
Just being looked at produced a crushing pressure that made their bodies feel as though they were collapsing inward.
As they clenched their fists and endured the crushing pressure, Isaac spoke to them.
“Instead of wasting time with such pointless complaints, steady your breathing and clear your mind.”
Isaac spoke with cold precision.
“If you can’t do that, you won’t even be able to pass this basic test.”
With those words, Isaac increased his pace and moved toward the group ahead.
Those who had been staring blankly at his figure found themselves biting their lips without even realizing it.
“Damn it, are we really going to give up?”
“If we quit here… that would be so unfair.”
A venomous glint hardened in their eyes.
How could they collapse when that guy was running with such heavy gear on his back?
And so the running continued.
The Northern Region’s night proved far harsher than anyone had anticipated.
Body heat plummeted, and eventually even a single step became an ordeal.
It was an entirely different concept from simply running for over a dozen hours.
Those who couldn’t withstand the Northern cold collapsed and were carried away on stretchers, while those who remained bore different expressions in their eyes.
Some carried despair.
Others burned with venom.
There were those who bit their lips until they bled, their minds sharpened by the thought that they would never surrender—that they would rather die.
And so the seemingly eternal night passed, and dawn gradually broke along the distant horizon.
And at that very moment.
A tremendous shout erupted from the Training Ground.
“Stooooooop!”
The instant that voice rang out.
Those who remained simply collapsed.
“Gasp…!”
“Hah…!”
Some fell to the ground, others dropped to their knees.
Thus the first running test came to an end.
* * *
The test that began at noon ended just as the sun was beginning to rise the next day.
In terms of time, they had run without rest for at least nineteen hours.
Along the road outside Lord’s Castle, applicants still lay scattered here and there.
Some completely exhausted and sprawled on the ground, others sitting with their arms wrapped around their knees and gasping for breath, and still others being transported on stretchers.
Fortunately, no one had suffered serious injuries.
But had circumstances been even slightly different, several of them might well have lost their lives in this test.
And yet….
“It doesn’t matter.”
Isaac’s expression was coldly composed.
“Anyone weak enough to die from this wouldn’t last long anyway.”
Inside the temporary Tent erected beside the Training Ground.
Officers overseeing the recruitment examination had gathered together.
Among them, Bartell nodded vigorously at Isaac’s words and spoke.
“That’s correct.”
He glanced out the window for a moment.
In the distance, applicants could still be seen being carried away on stretchers.
“Once we’ve selected the new recruits… the Unit Commander will begin training them in earnest.”
Bartell’s shoulders flinched without his realizing it.
Arteon’s training was, in a word, brutal.
Calling it merely difficult would be an understatement.
It felt as though he saw through the exact condition of those being trained and forcibly pushed their limits beyond what they thought possible.
Because of this, while Physical Strength mattered, the mental fortitude to endure it was equally crucial.
Perhaps that was why.
Bartell spoke, looking at the officers present.
“In my opinion… even those who lost consciousness near the end… I think we could pass them. What do you think?”
He continued, looking down at the Report.
“Their Physical Strength was somewhat lacking, but that’s something we can certainly build up over time.”
The officer beside him nodded as well.
“I agree.”
As the others assented, Isaac paused to consider before nodding.
“Very well. Then pass only those candidates and reject the rest.”
“Yes.”
The officers answered in unison.
Isaac then rose from his chair.
“The next examination will begin in three days. We’ll need to sort through the successful candidates, and besides…”
Isaac looked at the first-round successful candidates lying collapsed outside.
They looked far too pitiful to be called successful candidates.
“Those people will need time to recover their Physical Strength. Provide whatever support is necessary.”
It was a method of pushing relentlessly while maintaining a precise boundary.
The officers present thought to themselves.
‘When you see it like this…’
‘It’s like watching the Unit Commander…’
‘He’s becoming more and more like a ghost.’
Faced with Isaac’s demeanor, the other officers could only swallow hard.
Isaac then picked up the prepared Documents and made his way toward Lord’s Castle.
Thud, thud.
It was still an unfamiliar path.
Walking along the corridor, he stopped before a door.
Then he knocked.
Knock, knock.
A voice came from within shortly after.
“Wait a moment.”
Soon, the sound of conversation drifted from within.
Creak.
Albertul opened the door and stepped out.
He offered Isaac a light bow in greeting, then hurried away in another direction.
As Isaac entered Arteon’s Office.
“Sigh….”
Arteon rose from his seat with a deep exhale.
He then moved toward the sofa in front and offered Isaac a place to sit.
“You’ve worked hard. Have a seat.”
“…You seem quite busy, Unit Commander.”
Despite entrusting me with full authority over recruiting new Squad Members, Arteon’s demeanor suggested something was consuming his attention—an oddness I couldn’t quite place.
I took my seat and spoke to Arteon.
“Managing a domain doesn’t seem easy, sir.”
“It doesn’t appear to be.”
Arteon replied with an impassive expression.
I continued carefully.
“Going forward… there will likely be many matters concerning the domain that require your attention, Unit Commander.”
“That does seem to be the case….”
Arteon looked at me.
A Comrade with whom I’d fought on the Battlefield for years.
No—if I counted my Past Life as well, we’d been together for more than a decade.
When he spoke with that expression and gaze, it meant there was something delicate on his mind.
Arteon asked.
“Don’t keep it bottled up. What is it you want to say?”
“It’s nothing. I simply thought that with your duties increasing so suddenly, you might find it difficult to focus on the Unit… so I just asked.”
Considerate and skilled at reassuring his Subordinates, always leading by example—that was Isaac.
A fine soldier and an even finer person.
‘But this honest side of him is what I find most appealing.’
There’s something guileless about him.
In my Past Life, he was my superior officer.
Now he serves as my Subordinate, yet his unwavering nature has always been something I valued.
I chuckled and spoke.
“You think I’ll struggle to focus on the Unit?”
“Your duties have increased considerably, so… I thought it possible.”
“That’s precisely why I was sending a Letter to the King through Albertul.”
“…A Letter?”
At Isaac’s question, I curved my lips into a small smile.
Then I rose and gazed out the window toward Wolfheim as I spoke.
“A Noble, a Lord—I’m not about to take on such responsibilities myself. All I’ve ever done is traverse the Battlefield alongside you all.”
People are invariably divided into those capable of certain tasks and those who are not.
Especially since the management of this territory, shaped by Arteon’s choices, could alter the lives of countless individuals.
“That’s why I requested people who could assist in proper administration. I’ll entrust the work to them and simply oversee the operations.”
“…Ah.”
Isaac regarded Arteon with an expression of surprise.
A Warrior possessing 8th Star martial prowess.
A Noble and a Marquis.
Lord of Wolfheim, the vast Northern territory.
These were the elements that comprised Arteon.
Yet….
“…Unit Commander.”
How could he remain so utterly unchanged even in such circumstances?
His gaze fixed upon the window held the same intensity as when he stood upon the Battlefield.
Isaac found himself foolish for the doubts he had harbored.
‘I….’
Who I truly follow.
‘I had momentarily forgotten.’
Stupidly, at that.
A faint smile curved Isaac’s lips as he spoke.
“I’ve come to report on the First Test results and discuss matters concerning the Second Test, Unit Commander.”
“How many passed the First Test?”
“We’re still tallying the exact numbers, as we’ve decided to include even those who lost consciousness and collapsed at the end, but it appears to be slightly over three hundred.”
“Tighter than expected.”
Considering the personnel that needed to be replenished, it was hardly abundant.
Isaac nodded in agreement.
“From the Second Test onward, I don’t believe we’ll see such mass eliminations. Now that the Physical Strength and mental fortitude assessments are complete, we intend to examine the finer details.”
“Do you have something in mind for the Second Test?”
Isaac nodded at Arteon’s question.
“Yes, since they rolled around in the First Test….”
Isaac’s lips curved upward in a wide smile.
“They’ll need to get beaten in the Second.”
Arteon nodded with an approving smile, clearly in agreement.

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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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