The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 335

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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 (335)
Crack!
Movement that defied prediction.
Just when it seemed he’d driven inward, the moment distance opened between them, the spear’s trajectory extended forth—utterly unpredictable.
Even among the Kar Tribe, those renowned as the finest spear wielders questioned their ability.
‘This… this cannot be…!’
Whether this young warrior of the Empire could match him in pure Spear Technique alone was doubtful.
And yet…
Crunch.
Morganteron tightened his grip on the axe in his hand.
He could not continue to block attacks that came like a tempest, relentless and chaotic.
With each passing moment, wounds accumulated upon his body, and fatigue mounted from blood loss.
If he allowed this creature to continue his assault…
‘Just as he said…’
He would fall without accomplishing anything.
Thus, Morganteron had to make a decision.
‘I will sacrifice flesh…’
To claim his bones.
With his resolve set, Morganteron’s eyes flashed with lethal intensity.
And in that moment when the creature gripped the spear short and rotated his body.
“Hraaaaaaaaaaagh!”
Morganteron raised his axe high, crying out as he concentrated his Aura.
Whooooom!
As crimson light deepened and enveloped the axe blade, Arteon sliced deeply through Morganteron’s left arm and spun away.
Scarlet blood erupted and scattered through the air, exposing pale bone at the wound’s edge.
But…
“Now it ends, it all ends!”
Shwooooosh!
Everything converged toward this final strike.
Having sacrificed his left arm, Morganteron stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Arteon completely.
Now…
‘There is no space left for him to move the spear…!’
This battle would end.
Morganteron’s axe fell in a straight line, targeting the crown of Arteon’s head.
But that was the moment.
Crack!
“…?!”
Something flashed before his eyes and passed.
Clang!
“…!”
Morganteron’s axe, which had been swinging downward, shot back up toward the sky.
Blood streamed from the hand gripping the axe, accompanied by a searing pain.
“How… how is this possible…?”
He stared down at Arteon in disbelief.
In that instant, Arteon’s foot lifted slightly.
Surely not…
‘He kicked the spear up with the top of his foot…?’
In that brief moment.
No, setting that aside entirely…
‘Is such a thing even possible?’
What madman would release his weapon and strike with his foot instead?
Yet through that single motion, even in a moment when movement should have been impossible, he could still move his spear.
More precisely, he had struck the tip of the axe blade with the end of his spear blade, sending it flying.
Had the angle been even slightly off, the axe could have fallen upon his head in this life-or-death crisis.
“Damn… it all.”
Watching Arteon spin before his eyes, Morganteron muttered under his breath, his axe held high.
Despite seeing the man’s movements clearly, there was no time to swing the deflected axe immediately.
And so…
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
“Krraaaaaaaaaaaaagh!”
The delicate balance of combat shattered in an instant.
Thud.
Morganteron’s right leg, severed and fallen to the ground, gushed blood.
“Ugh…! Uuuuuugh…!”
Morganteron, staggering on one leg, pushed hard against the ground and hurled his body backward.
“Uuuuuugh…!”
He tensed the muscles of his right thigh, applying pressure.
He had stopped the bleeding, but there was nothing he could do about the severed leg.
And at that sight.
“Tamaaaaaan!”
“No, noooooo!”
The Kar Tribe Warriors watching the duel cried out loudly and rushed toward the Silent Spear Unit Members in front of them.
And leaving them behind.
Step, step.
Arteon walked toward the fallen Morganteron.
“Ugh… don’t… don’t come any closer…!”
Morganteron dragged himself backward, speaking to Arteon.
Could the gap truly be this great?
What Berkal had said… it was the truth.
Now I finally understand why he left without looking back.
‘The Empire’s God of War.’
Impossible to oppose… Impossible to defeat.
Morganteron’s gaze slowly lifted as he looked upon Arteon.
Watching Arteon, who had already stepped forward one pace closer.
“How… How can an Imperial dog possess such power?!”
We have lived our entire lives fighting in this severe cold of the north.
Competition was life itself, and the battlefield was home.
Among the Kar Tribe, I stood near the very pinnacle.
And yet….
“Graaaaaaaaaah!”
Morganteron roared in refusal to accept this, swinging his axe with all his might.
He braced his upper body with his left arm while swinging the axe with his right hand.
Clang!
The axe, its Aura not even properly manifested, flew back weakly.
Clatter!
The axe crashed loudly against the ground as it fell.
Arteon’s gaze, looking down upon Morganteron, turned glacially cold.
The guilt of failing to protect him weighed upon my chest.
Yet because of this, I made my declaration in this moment.
“Remember this well… Because of what you have done….”
The golden Aura entwining Iglis blazed with even greater radiance, flashing with lethal sharpness.
Golden sparks erupted violently around Arteon’s body.
“Ugh…!”
Morganteron, unable to properly control even his Aura due to his injuries, furrowed his brow as if suffocating beneath the crushing pressure.
Arteon spoke.
“Every Kar Tribe member in this northern region… will perish.”
“What did you…?!”
The very moment Morganteron’s expression twisted and he began to raise his upper body again.
Thrust!
“…!”
Iglis, gripped in Arteon’s hand, pierced through Morganteron’s heart and burst through the other side.
Red blood spattered across the ground.
“Guh…!”
Blood trickled from between his tightly clenched lips.
Morganteron’s eyes were filled with bitter resentment.
‘This bastard….’
I had imagined killing him, becoming a god of war myself.
Beginning with Gracekal Mine, I would conquer the vast lands of the Empire….
‘My name….’
I would make it resound across the entire continent.
Thud.
Morganteron’s body tilted slowly before collapsing to the ground.
As he fell.
Whoosh.
I turned my gaze toward the Kar Tribe Warriors locked in combat with my squad members.
The balance there too had not held.
The Silent Spear Unit Members were pushing them back with overwhelming superiority.
Now the battlefield had completely tilted in our favor.
From the main gate as well, the soldiers led by Belkain had completely broken through and advanced inside.
At that sight, I lifted my head and gazed toward the Northern Region, that distant place.
‘I will surely….’
What I had said to Morganteron was not merely a warning.
It was my true resolve.
The single goal I had failed to achieve in my past life.
Of course, before that.
“I must clean this place up first.”
I immediately moved toward where the fighting continued.
And as the pitch-black dawn passed and the sun began to rise.
Crimson blood spread throughout the entire mine, and beneath it lay corpses of the Kar Tribe, piled without end.
* * *
Afternoon light seeping through the window painted the marble floor of the Imperial Palace in long, golden hues.
The air flowing between the towering columns was serene, yet beneath that quietude lay something turbulent and unsettled.
The office where Sedrian resided.
News of the victory at Gracekal Mine had been delivered through Taifren.
The Prime Minister standing before him, Taifren, spoke.
“The enemy’s main forces have been annihilated… Thousands of Kar Tribe Warriors have fallen, it is reported.”
“Were there no wounded soldiers?”
“That is….”
Taifren relayed the fact of their defeat in the first battle that had come before.
Even the death of Claw, the most trusted Adjutant of Belkain, in that battle.
At those words, Sedrian’s expression darkened.
“…Commander Belkain must be quite troubled.”
“However… The enemy commander, who bore seven feather tattoos, has been slain, Your Highness.”
The moment those words fell, the air grew heavy and still.
Sedrian’s gaze slowly hardened.
“…Seven feather tattoos… That would make him among the highest-tier military strength even within the Kar Tribe, would it not?”
Taifren bowed his head as he answered.
“Indeed, Imperial Prince. Because of him… A report has come that Piolak of the Beurin Family lost both arms in the first battle.”
“….”
A victory, yet one where far too much had been lost.
At Taifren’s words, Sedrian’s brows furrowed deeply.
“…Even with Supreme Commander Belkain directing operations, such casualties?”
Sedrian spoke with a note of lamentation.
He already knew this much himself.
How profoundly a warrior at the highest realm could influence the battlefield.
Sometimes they could reshape the very nature of combat itself, rendering strategy and troop numbers meaningless.
Sedrian slowly leaned back against his chair.
‘Yet such a being… Marquis Arteon has captured.’
It was but a fleeting moment, yet a bitter smile crossed his lips.
When he considered the current Arteon, nothing made sense anymore.
Sedrian spoke to Taifren.
“I have never seen nor heard of anyone like Marquis Arteon.”
At those words, Taifren’s gaze wavered subtly.
Sedrian’s voice grew progressively quieter, yet somehow rang even more distinctly.
“When a person rises to position… they inevitably change. No matter how humble they may be, they eventually become conscious of what they possess.”
The power of the Imperial Palace.
A noble’s title.
And the responsibilities and desires that follow.
For any human, this was all too natural.
“Yet….”
Sedrian’s eyes slowly gleamed with light.
“How long has he been a Marquis… and he personally takes the vanguard on the battlefield?”
He tapped the table with his fingers.
“And not content with that, he requests permission for troops to subjugate the Northern Region. Is that not strange?”
At Sedrian’s question, Taifren fell silent for a moment.
He too had witnessed countless humans and dealt with many wielders of power.
Yet….
“…I as well.”
He offered a faint smile.
“Find it difficult to comprehend.”
Truly, it defied understanding.
Those who gain power seek to preserve it.
That is human nature.
Yet Arteon moved in the opposite direction.
He deliberately turned his steps toward more perilous and intense terrain.
Taifren exhaled softly.
“Subjugating the Northern lands would certainly bring us tremendous benefit. However….”
The resources flowing from the already-conquered territories alone were so vast they could sustain the Empire for the next decade.
There was no longer any need to undertake such risks and advance northward.
And at those words.
“There must be a reason for it, I’m certain.”
Sedrian supported Arteon’s thinking.
It was certainly dangerous, seemingly reckless even.
‘Yet to undertake such risk… it must be something that absolutely needs to be done.’
However, he could not make a decision based merely on hearing a report of such matters.
Sedrian spoke, his gaze fixed on Taifren.
“Prepare for our departure to Wolfheim. The Prime Minister will accompany us.”
“…Yes?”
Taifren’s eyes widened in confusion.
“I need to meet with Marquis Arteon and Supreme Commander Belkain directly and hear this from them. And….”
Sedrian rose from his seat, gazing northward through the window into the distance, and continued.
“There is also reason for me to go there.”
At those words, Taifren simply bowed his head in silence.

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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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