The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 310

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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 (310)
Before the City Gate of Wolfheim.
The harsh northern wind swept across the snow, swirling it into a frenzy.
In the midst of it all, knights clad in black cloaks stood in formation, their horses held motionless.
At the head of them stood a man.
Belkain Kaeron.
The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, one who had commanded countless battlefields.
He lifted his gaze toward Wolfheim.
“Faster than I expected… you’ve settled in quite well.”
Words spoken low.
Satisfaction and intrigue flickered across his eyes simultaneously.
Then, rapid footsteps echoed from within the city gate, approaching swiftly.
“Commander!”
It was Arteon.
Fresh from training, sweat still clung to his hair and shoulders, and his breathing had not yet fully steadied.
Yet his eyes were sharp and clear.
The moment Belkain saw him, he broke into a bright smile and stepped forward.
Then he bowed respectfully.
“I greet you, Marquis of Wolfheim.”
In that instant, the air around them shimmered strangely.
The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, offering courtesy to a Marquis of a single territory.
The scene itself was extraordinary enough.
But at the sight, Arteon cried out in alarm.
“Why are you doing this?”
Arteon quickly approached and grasped his arms and shoulders, straightening his posture.
“Please, don’t do this.”
His words carried both bewilderment and a hint of burden.
Belkain lifted his head and laughed.
“You are now truly a Marquis.”
Arteon shook his head slightly.
“My squad members still call me Captain.”
A brief smile crossed his lips.
“I told them I’d cast out anyone who called me Marquis.”
At those words, Belkain’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah… Albertul would be horrified to hear that.”
“He’s already heard it once.”
Arteon shrugged his shoulders.
“But… it still feels more comfortable this way.”
His gaze turned briefly toward the Training Ground behind him.
“If even my squad members began calling me Marquis… it would feel like losing my comrades.”
A brief silence fell.
Belkain studied the words for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.
“Nothing has changed at all.”
He then looked Arteon up and down.
“…Though, you look rather disheveled?”
“Ah.”
Arteon glanced down belatedly, as if checking his own condition.
“I’ve just finished morning training. I haven’t even washed yet… I apologize for my appearance.”
He laughed awkwardly.
Belkain shook his head.
“Not at all. Rather…”
A brief gleam flickered in his eyes.
“It suits you far better, Marquis.”
With those words, the air between the two men grew softer.
“Come inside. You haven’t eaten yet, I presume.”
“In that case…”
Belkain paused thoughtfully before asking.
“Would it be acceptable to dine with the soldiers?”
The corners of Arteon’s mouth lifted slightly.
“Of course.”
He turned as he added.
“Though I trust you understand you’ll need to wait in line.”
At that, Belkain burst into low laughter.
“That’s hardly a problem.”
The two walked toward the dining hall together.
The moment the dining hall doors opened.
The murmur inside fell silent in an instant.
“…What?”
“That person…”
The eyes of the existing squad members widened in a flash.
But a few new recruits unfamiliar with Belkain stared at him with bewildered expressions.
But in that moment.
Smack!
“Hey, get up.”
Mairn, the 3rd Company Commander, struck the back of an oblivious recruit’s head.
“This is the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, Captain Belkain Kaeron.”
“Y-yes?!”
The recruit scrambled to his feet in confusion.
Crash!
He knocked his chair backward.
At that sound, several flinched, and an awkward silence settled over the dining hall.
Belkain observed them for a moment before offering a faint smile.
“Since I’ve come as a guest today, please all eat at your ease.”
His voice was gentle.
The tension eased somewhat, though they remained visibly stiff.
Then Arteon spoke to his squad members.
“Everyone, relax.”
Arteon spoke tersely.
“From now on… do your best to enjoy your meal.”
That single phrase.
Only then did the squad members exchange glances and sit back down.
Spoons began to move, and soft sounds filled the dining hall once more.
“Then shall we?”
“Indeed.”
Belkain nodded.
“Let me taste the first meal in this place.”
The two sat side by side.
Steam rose gently from the stew.
Belkain lifted a spoonful to his lips.
His eyes shifted ever so slightly.
“Excellent.”
A brief assessment, yet it carried unmistakable satisfaction.
“With meals of this caliber, there should be no reason for the soldiers’ morale to falter.”
“Quite so.”
Arteon chuckled lightly.
“Sustenance must be properly provided, after all.”
After the meal ended.
The two made their way quietly to the office.
As the heavy door closed, all outside noise was completely shut out.
Arteon and Belkain sat facing each other.
Arteon then offered Belkain tea brought by an attendant and spoke.
“It doesn’t seem you’ve come merely to see my face…”
A brief silence.
“…Is something the matter?”
Belkain set down his teacup without a word.
* * *
“This is grave!”
Crash!
The conference room door burst open roughly.
A messenger, unable to catch his breath properly, cried out as he crossed the threshold.
In an instant, the air in the Conference Room froze.
Deep within the Imperial Palace in the Imperial Capital, the Conference Room of the ministers.
Ordinarily, this space should have been devoted to calm deliberation on matters of state, but at this very moment, a sharp tension pressed down upon the room.
“What is the matter?”
Taifren, the Prime Minister, lifted his head.
His gaze already suggested this would be far more than a routine report.
The Messenger bowed deeply, bending at the waist.
“East of Preldior… the Gracekal Mine has been attacked!”
Those words alone.
In an instant, a suffocating dread rippled through the Conference Room.
“What did you say…?”
One minister muttered in disbelief.
The Messenger’s voice trembled.
“The stationed troops… total annihilation. The interior of the mine has been completely subdued… and all the miners have been taken away.”
Silence.
Brief, yet heavy silence descended upon the Conference Room.
And as if the Messenger were placing a period on the matter, he delivered his final report.
“The Kar Tribe… has begun their attacks again.
With those words, the air in the Conference Room turned cold in an instant.
“Those bastards… have moved again?”
Someone spoke in a low voice.
“No… setting that aside for now….”
Another minister raised his head.
“They took the miners… away?”
It was peculiar.
Until now, the Kar Tribe had moved with only destruction as their purpose.
They took no prisoners, and were nothing but barbarians devoted to brutal slaughter.
But why would they take the miners away?
Questions filled their minds, yet none could readily provide an answer.
But then it happened.
One minister present cautiously opened his mouth.
“…Surely they don’t intend to force the miners to excavate for them, do they?”
“…?”
“Surely not.”
And another minister shrugged his shoulders.
“If those Kar Tribe bastards possessed that level of intelligence… they wouldn’t have lived as they have until now.”
It was a jest thrown out lightly.
But no one laughed at those words.
Because an ominous thought crept in—perhaps… it could actually be true.
‘If… that were actually the case?’
No one had dared voice it aloud, yet everyone harbored the same thought.
Taifren’s eyes narrowed.
He fell silent for a moment, lost in contemplation.
The Kar Tribe.
They had made their move.
That alone was a dangerously ominous signal.
Since the battle at Preldior, there had been no attacks from the Kar Tribe.
Nearly a year had passed since that final engagement.
‘And now… they suddenly attack in such a bizarre manner…’
Whatever the cause, one thing was certain—something had changed for them.
Taifren spoke.
“…First, we must report this to the Imperial Prince.”
His gaze swept across the Conference Room.
“And… we should consult with Supreme Commander Belkain on this matter. There is no one superior to him regarding affairs of the Northern Region.”
Of course, regardless of that, Belkain was already the Empire’s Supreme Commander.
To mobilize troops, consulting with him was naturally the proper procedure.
But then.
“Commander Belkain is currently away from his post.”
Elhart, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Military Affairs, spoke calmly.
Taifren’s eyes flashed.
“Where has he gone?”
“He has headed to Wolfheim, where Marquis Arteon resides.”
It was a brief answer, but its implications were considerable.
“Of all times… why now of all times…”
Taifren’s lips pressed together tightly.
A throbbing headache seemed to descend upon him, as if something were pressing insistently against his temples.
Taifren shot up from his seat.
The chair scraped backward with a sound.
“I shall report to the Imperial Prince. Once the briefing is complete… we shall convene an emergency meeting immediately, so all of you remain on standby.”
His gaze fixed upon Elhart.
“Vice Minister, prepare a Reconnaissance Unit to deploy to the Northern Region at once. We may need to dispatch troops northward the moment His Highness grants permission.”
“Understood.”
Having received the acknowledgment, Taifren turned immediately.
The door opened, and his footsteps receded swiftly.
The Conference Room, now vacant of Taifren.
Tension once again settled thickly over the entire space.
* * *
It was an unexpected statement.
Within the Office, despite the warmth of the heated air, the atmosphere had grown strangely subdued.
Beyond the window, snow continued to drift, and beyond it, the vast domain of Wolfheim lay dimly spread before them.
Belkain set down his teacup, his gaze fixed upon Arteon.
“You speak of training to transition formations?”
Arteon’s question carried unmistakable doubt.
He already sensed this was no simple matter to be resolved quickly.
“Indeed.”
Belkain nodded slowly.
“I have observed countless battlefields throughout my years… yet the movements displayed by the Silent Spear Battalion defy mere description as ‘remarkable.'”
His gaze drifted momentarily toward the window.
“Of course, their individual strength has certainly contributed to their achievements. However….”
His eyes returned to Arteon.
“Most officers fixate solely upon the Marquis.”
A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“But I perceived something different.”
A brief silence fell.
“The true strength… lay in the unit’s movements themselves.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Arteon regarded him without speaking.
“A formation that shifts and transforms as circumstances demand, the entire unit moving as a single living organism.”
Belkain’s eyes grew progressively sharper.
“That is fundamentally different from the methods employed by the Imperial Army.”
His words were no mere assessment.
They carried the weight of observation and analysis honed through years of battlefield experience.
Arteon stiffened at those words.
Belkain acknowledged this with a nod.
“Of course, I understand this is no simple undertaking.”
It must be an exceptional achievement born from Arteon’s own ingenuity.
Yet his unconventional methods for building a formidable unit did not end there.
Belkain’s gaze deepened slightly.
“I have also heard that you taught common soldiers the Mana Cultivation Method. That technique itself… you refined it anew, did you not?”
The air grew heavy for a moment.
The Silent Spear Battalion.
They had already transcended the category of ‘ordinary infantry units.’
Belkain understood this truth precisely.
Arteon remained silent for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes. That is correct.”
There was no reason to deny it.
It was something that could not be concealed.
A brief silence stretched between them.
Yet within that fleeting moment.
Something flickered rapidly through Arteon’s mind.
‘…That time.’
A man placing his finger on a worn map, endlessly explaining his theories.
A tactical planner I’d met in the Northern Region, whose name had long since faded from memory.
I had simply learned, absorbed, and practiced the theories he’d created.
There was no particular reason for it.
It was a time when I had to do whatever it took to survive.
And that knowledge had merely evolved through the addition of my own experience.
Arteon’s pupils trembled ever so slightly.
That was when it happened.
Belkain opened his mouth.
“Have you not considered turning that Formation’s training method into an official manual?”
Belkain asked directly.
It was a decision he’d reached after months of deliberation since becoming Supreme Commander of the Empire.
In a sense, it was the Supreme Commander himself who had traveled all this way to the distant Northern Region for the Empire’s greater advancement.
Arteon looked at Belkain.
Perhaps this was something he could discuss with him after all.
“…Commander. There is something I must tell you.”
At those words, Belkain’s gaze grew heavy and grave.

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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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