The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 317

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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 (317)
A cold wind carved through the hills near Gracekal Mine.
The night was deep, and even the stars in the sky had grown dim.
As if turning away from what was about to unfold upon this land, silence descended.
And upon the hills near Gracekal Mine.
There stood a man, piercing through the darkness with his gaze.
Berkal Tarkurokka.
The great chieftain of the tribe bearing seven feather tattoos—a man who had stood with his spine unbent even before Morganteron and had been called the Military Strategist.
Berkal spoke.
“Soon enough… the Imperial Army will arrive at this place.”
His low, measured voice scattered upon the wind.
The massive figure of Morganteron beside him narrowed his eyes.
“If we do not strike them at some midpoint before they arrive here and reduce their numbers, a dangerous situation may arise.”
According to reports from the scouts who had conducted reconnaissance, the number of Imperial soldiers approaching this place exceeded ten thousand.
Compared to their own forces of barely five thousand, the disparity in troop strength was far too severe.
Yet Berkal’s response to Morganteron’s words was resolute.
“No, we shall wait.”
“…?”
Morganteron regarded him with a puzzled expression.
“If we dispatch our warriors to strike the Imperial Army’s flank, we can certainly deal them a decisive blow. You would throw away such an opportunity?”
The path leading here could not be called narrow, but it wound and twisted throughout.
“On that winding road, they cannot immediately discern what lies ahead. If we exploit that terrain, we could kill at least a thousand of those Imperial bastards without difficulty.”
This was akin to kicking away an obvious opportunity.
Did this man calling himself a Military Strategist not understand even this?
Yet Berkal remained resolute.
“There is no need to move merely to kill a thousand. Rather, if that attack causes them to become vigilant and strengthen their defenses, it will become difficult to execute our subsequent operation.”
“…Subsequent operation?”
Morganteron tilted his head in confusion.
Though he held command authority over this region, he could not act arbitrarily toward this man.
In response to Morganteron’s question, Berkal pointed with his finger to the surroundings of the mine and spoke.
“Observe the terrain of this place.”
Gracekal Mine.
The mine entrance was narrow, and naturally formed a bottleneck before it.
Both sides were sheer, steep slopes.
Viewed from above, it could become a perfect hunting ground.
“This terrain is optimized for defense. There is no reason for us to abandon such terrain and advance first.”
“….”
Morganteron said nothing for a moment.
He could not say that reasoning was flawed.
Rather, it was precise.
But Morganteron furrowed his brow and spoke to him.
“Did you not receive the report? The enemy’s numbers are easily three times greater than ours.”
With such numbers, no matter how advantageous the terrain, holding them back would be impossible.
Moreover, this place is not a Castle designed for perfect defense, but rather a natural space.
It could not be called a location optimized for war and battle.
Then Berkal Tarkurokka nodded at Morganteron’s words and continued.
“That is correct. If it were the Kar Tribe’s way… it would surely be so.”
“…What?”
The Kar Tribe’s way.
It was a phrase that grated subtly wrong.
As Morganteron showed a hint of discomfort, Berkal Tarkurokka gazed into the distance through the Darkness and spoke.
“The Imperial Army is already approaching here with countless scenarios in mind. Perhaps… they are even considering the possibility of a Surprise Attack along the way.”
That is precisely why nothing must happen to them.
Let them believe we are cowering before their overwhelming numbers.
Let them grow ever more confident in themselves, ever more assured of their superiority.
Already, the path and direction of the Imperial Army’s movements were vividly drawn in Berkal Tarkurokka’s mind.
Berkal Tarkurokka spoke.
“The Empire never engages in battles where they suffer losses. By any means necessary, they minimize damage through optimal Operations and seek to claim victory in this War.”
Moreover….
“The opponent is… Belkain Kaeron, the Supreme Commander of the Empire, who for the first time in history has trampled upon our Territory and invaded.”
The moment that name was mentioned, Morganteron’s eyes shifted subtly.
The Supreme Commander of the Empire.
A man who has trampled countless tribes beneath his heel.
His name was already heard countless times.
Berkal Tarkurokka looked at Morganteron and spoke.
“If you expect mistakes from him, we will be defeated without ever truly fighting in this War.”
Berkal Tarkurokka’s voice was measured, yet it carried absolute conviction.
Though he was an enemy, what deserved acknowledgment had to be acknowledged.
That is precisely why….
“The moment we move first, it becomes the battle they desire.
The wind blew again.
This time, somewhat more fiercely.
Morganteron stood in silence.
His eyes narrowed slowly.
I understand.
But….
“So we must simply wait here with vacant minds for Those Guys to arrive?”
“Yes.”
Berkal Tarkurokka’s answer remained resolute.
However….
“The commander holding vanguard authority in this war… is not the War God of the Northern Region.”
“Are you referring to Arteon?”
“Yes, the Empire’s Warrior who slew Grand Taman Barg Sraban at Preldior.”
The mere fact that he had not appeared made this a battle worth fighting.
Had Belkain and Arteon both—
two commanders and warriors combined—they would have detonated the entire Gracekal Mine and retreated.
Berkal Tarkurokka continued.
“There will certainly be an opening.”
Belkain would not make mistakes.
‘But war itself…’
does not flow solely according to an exceptional commander’s will.
As orders are transmitted and those executing them infuse their own thoughts and intentions, gaps inevitably emerge.
Then, with a single strike.
I had to strike their vital points with precision and end this perfectly.
Berkal Tarkurokka spoke, looking at Morganteron.
“Follow my words, Taman.”
“….”
Morganteron’s expression hardened.
Had it not been for that person’s command, there was a high chance he would have dismissed the words of such a young warrior.
But Berkal Tarkurokka was already a warrior who had proven himself with an exceptional mind, was he not?
That was precisely why he could have been chosen by that person.
Morganteron turned his head and gazed toward the forward position.
“I shall place my faith in your words.”
The wind that blew seemed to carry the scent of blood mixed within it.
* * *
The mountain path wound in serpentine curves.
The sound of hooves scraping stone rang out dryly, and that sound spread to an oddly distant reach.
The silence was thick.
So thick it was almost ominous.
Piolak Beurin, leading the troops from the vanguard, tightened his grip on the reins.
His expression was serene, but his eyes continuously scanned the surroundings.
‘In terrain like this…’
Slopes extending on both sides.
Exposed rocks and bushes scattered throughout.
Moreover, the winding path was so wide that if battle erupted, it would be difficult to respond immediately from distant positions.
Anyone with even a modicum of understanding of war would certainly choose to attack in some manner from this terrain.
Because of this, Piolak Beurin heightened his vigilance in preparation for the enemies’ assault.
Piolak Beurin spoke.
“Strengthen the left flank patrol especially. If those bastards attack, they will likely strike from the side.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Are our scouts moving along both wall surfaces?”
“A total of eight Reconnaissance Units are advancing while maintaining intervals of roughly two hundred meters.”
“…Good.”
But I cannot afford to lower my guard.
I know all too well that the individual combat power of these Kar Tribe Barbarians far surpasses that of Imperial Soldiers.
If they move deliberately through this Darkness, we would be helpless against them.
At Piolak Beurin’s command, the cavalry responded immediately, and the Infantry maintained their Formation while adjusting their pace of movement.
Even the Archers were prepared for any contingency.
And yet.
“….”
Nothing happened.
And time passed.
One sharply winding path, then two. And then three.
Even as we traversed nearly the entire length of that long Mountain Path, the Kar Tribe launched not a single Attack.
Piolak Beurin’s eyes narrowed.
‘They are not attacking?’
This was more than strange.
It was unnatural.
But soon his lips curved upward slowly.
“Ha.”
A brief laugh.
“So these are the Barbarians… Truly ignorant of war, these creatures.”
Because of Supreme Commander Belkain Kaeron’s warning, I had momentarily held them in high regard—now I felt like a fool.
‘No matter how high their individual combat power may be… war is not won simply by knowing how to fight well.’
To have felt tension against those so ignorant of Tactics.
For just a brief moment, even Belkain Kaeron, who had warned me, seemed contemptible.
Piolak Beurin turned his gaze toward the destination ahead.
‘Strength without intellect.’
I was certain.
This Battle was already decided in our favor.
“This War… is our victory.”
My fist clenched, drawing the reins taut.
But at that same moment.
Behind the advancing Imperial Army, a different movement was beginning to unfold.
“…Commander.”
A quiet voice.
Claw, standing beside Belkain Kaeron, spoke softly.
“….”
Belkain Kaeron’s eyes slowly narrowed.
The absence of any Kar Tribe Attack along this long Mountain Path felt far too unnatural.
Based on the pattern of the Kar Tribe that I had experienced thus far, this terrain was undoubtedly a “golden opportunity” that They would never overlook.
After all, the terrain was inherently advantageous to the attacking side.
But….
“…This confirms it.”
Belkain muttered under his breath.
For reasons I could not discern.
‘Them… have undergone a significant transformation.
And that transformation will surely have meaningful consequences.
For Them and for us alike.
Belkain lifted his gaze toward the forward position.
My instincts, honed through years of warfare in the Northern Region, were speaking to me.
‘This flow….’
It was not a flow favorable to us.
Identifying precisely what this transformation was—that had to come first.
Belkain spoke to Claw.
“…Claw.”
“Yes.”
“Assemble the officers the moment we reach the Operation Site.”
A terse, decisive command.
Claw immediately bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Understood.”
Belkain fell silent again.
On the surface, the march showed no sign of change.
But within my mind, dozens of scenarios were unfolding simultaneously.
‘They may be drawing us in.’
Gracekal Mine.
It occurred to me that perhaps Their objective was not simply to seize the mine.
Engaging in battle without properly understanding that intent could exact a terrible price in lives.
Of course, I had to achieve victory, recapture Gracekal Mine, and rescue the Empire’s citizens.
‘But simultaneously….’
It was equally vital to minimize losses among my soldiers and establish a new Fortification here.
Otherwise, why would such a large force be necessary?
Belkain gazed toward the forward position.
“…Show yourselves soon.”
To whom he spoke, I could not say.
His murmur scattered and dispersed into the cold wind.

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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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