The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 324

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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 (324)
Crash!
A deafening roar erupted as if the mountain itself were screaming.
The snow-covered slope trembled, and the frozen clumps of ice that had been locked in place crumbled and collapsed.
Fine cracks spread across the pristine white ground, fracturing like fissures across its surface.
“Commander! We have a serious problem!”
Claw rushed through the blizzard toward me.
His ragged breathing crystallized into white vapor that scattered into the air.
The bitter cold seeping through the gaps in his armor made even his voice tremble.
Belkain raised his head without a word.
He had already been observing the situation.
“….”
In the distance, a shadow wavered indistinctly.
Though the distance obscured a clear view, the sound alone was unmistakable.
“….”
I had calculated countless scenarios of how those bastards might attack.
The Kar Tribe was always unpredictable, sometimes overturning the battlefield in ways that defied comprehension.
But not now.
For them to launch a preemptive attack at this moment would be no different than choosing suicide.
If we had maintained our formation rather than retreating, they would have faced an overwhelmingly disadvantageous battle.
No matter how familiar the Kar Tribe was with the Northern Region’s terrain.
‘In this narrow gorge with its frozen ground… and with such limited visibility, they cannot fight properly.’
Under these conditions, I was confident we would win eight or nine times out of ten.
But….
‘A warrior bearing seven feather tattoos.’
Belkain’s eyes wavered.
If the one leading the Kar Tribe was a 7-Star warrior, everything changed entirely.
There was no means to stop him in the first place.
‘Could it be… that a warrior with seven feather tattoos would be deployed in such a small-scale surprise operation?’
I had never even imagined it.
The Kar Tribe possessed the most rigidly hierarchical structure on the continent.
The strong possessed everything, while the weak submitted absolutely.
Therefore, it was extremely rare for warriors of Taman’s caliber or above to move in such minor skirmishes.
In fact, there had never been a single precedent until now.
Yet… one of the rarest existences within the Kar Tribe.
The mightiest warrior bearing seven tattoos.
He had moved directly.
That single fact alone had completely reversed the balance of the battlefield.
“…Was this my miscalculation?”
Belkain’s lips moved ever so slightly.
Even Belkain, who had endured the battlefields of the Northern Region longer than anyone, could not read such a choice.
Of course, he sensed new signs of change emanating from those guys.
Precisely because of this, he had approached with far greater caution and care than usual.
Yet he had not anticipated such a radical decision.
Belkain’s jaw muscles clenched hard.
“Claw.”
Belkain spoke with a resolute voice as if his decision had been made.
“Order all troops immediately to extinguish their torches and destroy every strategic pass leading into the camp.”
“…!”
Claw’s eyes widened in an instant.
“But there are soldiers fighting outside….”
“That is an order. Execute it at once.”
Belkain cut him off and spoke.
Any further delay would make even this method impossible.
The soldiers facing them outside weighed on his mind.
‘They cannot survive.’
The moment they encountered a 7-Star Warrior, there was no way for them to return alive.
Cutting off the route quickly and fleeing into darkness was the best option.
Belkain spoke.
“Once the route is blocked, position archers at a distance.”
And if their presence is felt in the darkness.
“We must attack without pause. The assault cannot cease for even a moment.”
Belkain’s gaze turned toward the darkness faintly rising ahead.
“If we do this… we can halt their advance.”
Whether by misfortune or fortune.
The enemy too was composed of roughly a thousand troops.
Narrow the pass, extinguish the torches, then.
Pour arrows from the darkness.
‘The 7-Star Warrior aside….’
It would be a fatal threat to the others.
That alone would suffice.
Buying time with that and creating an opportunity to escape… was all that could be done now.
Claw nodded at Belkain’s command.
“Understood! I’ll relay it immediately!”
Claw turned and sprinted across the snow.
The sound of snow shattering beneath his feet rang out harshly.
In that moment, Belkain looked toward the front once more.
In the blizzard, that presence seemed to be drawing ever closer.
Brutal slaughter and overwhelming power beyond reach.
Though absent from sight, it was felt vividly across his skin.
“Sigh….”
Belkain exhaled in frustration, his clenched fist tightening further.
The trembling of his fist seemed to embody the turmoil within him.
I never imagined I would suffer such a devastating blow at the hands of the Kar Tribe….
But….
*Whoosh*.
Belkain lifted his head and gazed toward the front line.
It was not yet over.
If I abandoned everything now, the soldiers would bear the full weight of that catastrophe.
There were still many soldiers remaining, were there not?
Bringing them back alive—that was my duty.
“Extinguish the torches at once! Execute the operation immediately!”
Urgency pierced through Belkain’s voice as the command tore from his lips.
* * *
“Extinguish the torches! All of them!”
“Quickly! Snuff them all out!”
Orders cascaded forth.
Officers’ roars tore through the blizzard, spreading in all directions.
*Crack!*
*Hisssss!*
Hundreds of torches were extinguished in an instant.
As the flames vanished, only black smoke and residual heat remained.
The entire mountain terrain before the mine plunged into absolute darkness in a heartbeat.
With the light gone, only sound persisted.
The ragged breathing of soldiers, the scrape of armor, the faint rupture of frozen snow beneath their feet.
But then.
*BOOM!*
The ground trembled as if turned inside out.
“…?!”
“What is this?!”
The strategic pass leading into the Imperial Army Camp.
The rocky wall that had formed its entrance collapsed in an instant.
Cascading boulders and snow sealed the entrance completely.
The dozens of soldiers positioned at the front could not hide their bewilderment as massive rocks suddenly crashed down from behind them.
“What, what is happening?!”
“The, the path is blocked!”
Enemies ahead, a sealed passage behind.
They were trapped in that spot, gasping for breath within the blizzard.
Only the few torches they still clutched provided any illumination.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhh!”
Rather, it was nothing short of suicide, broadcasting their position to the enemy.
“R-Run!”
“Run where… Damn it…!”
Staring at the Kar Tribe Warriors before them, they could not hide their despair.
The rear was blocked, and the only escape route was the cliff to their side.
In such a bewildering situation.
“….”
Morganteron, watching them, twitched his eyebrows.
“…Such parlor tricks.”
His pupils gleamed in the darkness.
An overwhelmingly dominant presence even among the Kar Tribe Warriors.
Seven Feather Tattoos were distinctly visible, running across his shoulders and arms.
He stepped forward.
Then he drew up his Aura.
Uuuuuuuung!
The air resonated.
The snowflakes around him bounced back minutely, emanating a vicious momentum.
A dense Aura condensed upon the Giant Axe gripped in his hand, and the terrified Imperial Soldiers came into view.
Normally, this would have been a battle to be ended swiftly….
‘…The Military Strategist.’
Morganteron recalled the words Berkal had spoken just before arriving here.
―We must strike as swiftly and lethally as possible. We must never engage in prolonged combat, nor venture too deep.
A brief but unambiguous order.
Even Morganteron, bearing seven Feather Tattoos, had limits to his Physical Strength and Mana.
If he fought too long and sustained injuries by mistake, it would be a battle where they would inevitably suffer losses.
Yet Morganteron gripped his Axe even tighter.
His gaze fixed upon the blocked strategic pass.
If they intended to fight, they would not resort to such childish tricks.
They were merely fleeing with their tails between their legs at the sight of a mere thousand enemies.
His lips slowly parted.
“Rats scurrying away with their tails tucked….”
His mouth twisted into a grin.
“…There is nothing to fear.”
As he took a step forward.
The snow beneath his feet was crushed.
Morganteron spoke to the Warriors.
“Here… I will slaughter every last one of those bastards.”
Shuaaaack!
Morganteron raised his Axe.
And brought it down.
Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash! Bang!
The crimson Aura that had gathered in his Giant Axe stretched outward in a crescent shape, tearing through space itself.
The bodies of the Imperial Soldiers blocking his path burst apart, their Armor torn to shreds.
Organs and bone.
Along with them, red blood sprayed across the snow.
And beyond that, even the massive boulder blocking the strategic pass.
All of it scattered like paper, and in the Darkness without flame, a cold wind swept through.
And beyond that, I could sense the fleeing Imperial Soldiers.
At their movements, Morganteron spoke in a low voice.
“Tear those bastards to shreds. With this assault, I’ll exterminate them completely.”
“Yes!”
“Hraaaaaaahhhhh!”
The Kar Tribe Warriors, their morale surging, roared and charged into the Darkness.
A bestial howl.
An unstoppable Charge followed, and behind them, Morganteron took a step forward and raised his Giant Axe again.
But in that moment.
“…?”
At an unfamiliar sound echoing from the Darkness, Morganteron’s brow furrowed.
* * *
“My lord! Marquis!”
A man rushed into Arteon’s Office, shouting loudly.
Cold air rushed in all at once, and at the sight of the man gasping for breath, Arteon lifted his head.
He was someone dispatched from the Shadowteon Merchant Guild to help manage the territory.
“What is it?”
Though he appeared urgent, Arteon asked calmly.
But Arteon’s eyes had already changed as he looked at him.
The moment he saw him, he realized this was no ordinary matter.
The man spoke.
“A message has come from the Guild Master…”
The man continued, barely catching his breath.
Sweat trickled down between his wet hair.
“An urgent report came from the Reconnaissance unit near Gracekal Mine…”
The moment those words fell, Arteon’s expression hardened.
Gracekal Mine—he immediately intuited this had something to do with Belkain.
Something is wrong.
My intuition was sending a strong warning.
The air in the Office grew heavy.
“…Speak.”
A brief, urging command.
The man continued from there.
“Supreme Commander Belkain’s forces that advanced into Gracekal Mine… have suffered a major defeat, it seems.”
“…!”
In that instant, Arteon’s pupils dilated sharply.
Belkain.
That name struck hard against his mind.
The pillar that had sustained the Northern Front, the commander who never wavered in any war….
‘A major defeat…?’
Arteon clenched his teeth.
“What happened to the Commander… What became of him?”
His voice was suppressed, yet the tension contained within it could not be hidden.
The Blacksmith’s eyes wavered.
“That is….”
At the words that followed.
Arteon thrust himself up from his seat.

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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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