The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 337

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Mad Spearman of the Northern Front (337)
A cold wind swept across the Castle Wall of Wolfheim.
The Northern Region’s distinctive dry yet biting air cut across skin like a Blade, leaving its mark.
The sky was clear, but the air beneath it held no peace whatsoever.
One week.
Merely that span of time had elapsed since arriving at Wolfheim.
Yet even in that brief window, this Place moved without cessation.
Within the Castle’s Conference Room.
Across a vast Map lay the Terrain and vital strongholds of the entire Northern Region, densely marked.
Dozens of Marks shifted across it, newly placed, then vanished once more.
“Movement has been detected on this front within the past two days.”
“The Kar Tribe’s movement Pattern differs from before. They scatter, then… regroup in formation.”
Belkain’s eyes narrowed as he absorbed the report.
He gazed down at the Map in silence for a long moment.
Less than a year had passed.
In that time, the Northern Region had become an entirely different Battlefield.
The Kar Tribe of old was simple.
A barbarous collective that pushed through with brute force and fought on instinct alone.
But now it was different.
They dispersed, concealed themselves, and waited for their moment.
Then, at the most lethal instant, they struck with unified ferocity.
“…So they truly have learned.”
The words emerged low and measured.
It was no mere observation.
The enemy had transformed, and that transformation spelled danger.
Yet the greater problem now was that the Imperial Army itself had changed through successive Victories.
Consecutive triumphs had dulled the soldiers’ vigilance, and even in Defensive operations, they now produced incomplete formations and faltering momentum.
Belkain’s brow furrowed at this.
“…The situation is utterly dire.”
Belkain murmured quietly to himself.
His gaze turned briefly toward the window.
Beyond it lay the snow-cloaked Mountain Range of the Northern Region.
It still appeared peaceful, yet now it was certain—everything within had fundamentally changed.
‘They are undoubtedly hunting for an opening.’
Not recklessly exposing themselves and charging forward as before, but rather carefully selecting the precise point at which to strike.
‘And when…’
When those Bastards move again.
“Then…it truly could become perilous.”
Normally, at this juncture—
“I share that assessment. How we repel the Kar Tribe’s next Attack will greatly shape the atmosphere of the entire Northern Region.”
Claw should have answered that.
But in his absence, now silent and unreachable.
“Sigh….”
Belkain could only exhale a final breath.
And at that same moment.
At the Training Ground on the Outskirts of Wolfheim.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sound of hooves striking earth echoed endlessly.
Dust rose into the air, and cold wind swept across it.
Hundreds of mounted riders.
And the men astride them.
Arteon watched them quietly from above.
“Straighten your backs!”
“Don’t hang from the reins! Ride with your body!”
“If you fall, get back on! Don’t stop!”
Shouts erupted, and several fell from their horses.
But no one stopped.
Gritting their teeth, they mounted again.
Hands slipping, knees trembling, yet again.
And again.
It was completely different from when they had headed toward Gracekal Mine.
Back then, they had merely ‘clung’ to their horses as they rode, but now, though rough, it felt like they were truly ‘riding’.
Isaac, who had been observing their progress, carefully opened his mouth beside him.
“Are you all right, sir?”
Arteon answered without turning his gaze away.
I knew his question had nothing to do with the Squad Members’ training, but something else entirely.
“There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s the Commander I’m concerned about.”
Isaac fell silent for a moment.
He was not unaware of Belkain’s condition.
On the surface, there was no wavering, but his gaze was growing deeper by the moment.
His emotions had not yet been fully settled.
But then it happened.
Arteon suddenly spoke.
“In the Southern Region long ago, there were those called the Mung Tribe. Do you happen to know of them?”
Isaac lifted his head.
“I’ve heard of them. They say they ride horses exceptionally well….”
“It’s more than just riding well.”
Arteon’s gaze turned toward the distant Northern Region.
“When I looked into them, I found that they are so close and affectionate with horses that they do everything together with them—not just eating, but even sleeping.”
“…Really?”
Isaac’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
The direction of the conversation felt off.
As Isaac fell silent, Arteon looked at him and spoke.
“From now on.”
Arteon’s voice dropped low.
“Tell everyone not to dismount from their horses, except during training.”
“…Pardon?”
In that instant, the air grew tense.
Isaac turned his head to look at Arteon.
It was an order he couldn’t comprehend.
Live entirely on horseback?
That wasn’t training—it was closer to a forced way of survival.
Yet Arteon’s gaze remained unwavering.
He was already looking elsewhere.
Not merely at the present moment.
“We need to hurry. It seems we don’t have much time left.”
This battle had taught me a great deal.
Though I couldn’t pinpoint it in a single phrase.
‘This Northern Region…’
That feeling of change was unmistakable.
Whether it stemmed solely from the Kar Tribe’s transformation or something else remained unclear.
Precisely why we needed to move faster.
Arteon continued to Isaac.
“That’s why ordinary training cannot keep pace. It’s too slow.”
Isaac said nothing.
In that moment, he understood.
This wasn’t mere training—it was preparation for a new battlefield.
To cover as much territory as possible across this vast Northern Region, rapid mobility had become essential.
And cultivating the ability to reach the necessary battlefield first…
“That won’t be easy.”
“When has anything ever been easy?”
“…That’s true enough.”
Isaac answered with a slight smile tugging at his lips.
The path they’d walked thus far had been nearly impossible, grueling beyond measure.
Yet despite it all, they had never once faltered.
They always found breakthroughs, always devised solutions. This time would be no different.
Arteon was likely envisioning a grander design regarding what lay ahead.
As long as I followed him.
‘…I’ll manage it.’
No matter what.
That was why Isaac’s response carried no hesitation.
And….
A soft whisper of movement.
Trusting in Isaac as he did, Arteon turned his gaze northward once more.
Toward something unseen.
War had not yet erupted, but.
‘…it would not be long.’
Soon, a fierce tempest would sweep across the Northern Region again.
“We must prepare.”
At Arteon’s quiet murmur, Isaac beside him simply nodded in silence.
But then.
“M-Marquis Wolfheim!”
Both men’s gazes shifted as a soldier came rushing into the Training Ground.
And his words that followed.
“The Imperial Prince is coming to this place!”
It was something neither had anticipated.
* * *
A cold wind sang long across the City Gate of Wolfheim.
Beneath a clear sky, the air remained sharp, and the sound of hoofbeats cutting through it was unusually distinct.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
The sentries lifted their heads and looked ahead.
An organized cavalry formation, flawless in its alignment.
And at its center, a Flag bearing the Imperial House’s Pattern cut sharply through the wind.
An unannounced visit.
Yet the City Gate opened, and Wolfheim’s interior stirred quietly into motion.
And at the very front.
“Welcome, Your Highness.”
“I apologize for arriving without notice.”
“Not at all, please come inside.”
Arteon gestured respectfully toward the Lord’s Castle. But Sedrian shook his head.
“I would like to tour Wolfheim first, if you don’t mind guiding me?”
“Of course.”
At Sedrian’s request, Arteon toured the transformed Wolfheim with him.
Of course, time was limited, so he could not show him everything.
“…Excellent.”
Despite three territories having been merged into one, the seamless operation drew a smile to his face.
Soon after, Sedrian proceeded with Arteon to his Office.
As the sun descended and Darkness gradually fell, neither minded.
Sedrian entered the Office and took his seat, observing Arteon and Belkain before him.
Then his gaze turned toward Arteon.
“…It must have been quite an abrupt visit.”
A faint smile played at his lips.
“The way you show no sign of surprise—it seems you’ve truly become a Noble now, Marquis of Wolfheim.”
Words cast lightly.
Yet they carried multiple meanings beneath the surface.
But Arteon answered with a subtle smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Because I am always waiting for the Imperial Prince. There is no reason to be flustered.”
It was a response uncharacteristic of him—one tinged with composure and ease.
Sedrian shifted his gaze to Belkain beside him.
The light in his eyes as he regarded him had changed slightly.
“I have received all reports concerning this war.”
His voice lowered.
“I offer my condolences to the Commander.”
“…Thank you, Your Highness.”
Understanding what those words truly meant, Belkain simply bowed his head lightly in response.
Sedrian leaned his back against the chair.
Then he continued at once.
“Well then… I suppose I must explain why I contacted you so suddenly. If I delay any longer, I fear your hearts will grow heavy with suspense.”
A slight smile crossed his face, but Sedrian’s expression soon hardened.
The air in the Office shifted instantly.
“You requested Approval for military forces to subjugate the Northern Region.”
His eyes alternated between the two men.
“…Is there truly a reason to move now, of all times?”
Sedrian’s expression had grown grave.
He understood well enough the hearts of those who had lost someone dear through this Gracekal Mine war.
But did that justify deploying tens of thousands of soldiers and waging a reckless war?
Each soldier.
Each one had loved ones, and there were those who would grieve their deaths.
To Sedrian’s question, Arteon said nothing for a moment.
Then slowly, he turned his gaze to the side to look at Belkain.
In truth, this matter had been thoroughly discussed between himself and Belkain.
Acting on Revenge for the loss of Claw, as Sedrian suggested.
Starting a war for that reason.
This would be illogical.
Advancing beyond merely defending the Northern Region they had conquered would surely bring greater sacrifice and sorrow.
But despite all that.
“Would it be permissible for me to speak on that matter, Your Highness?”
“I am listening.”
Sedrian leaned back in his chair, regarding Belkain.
Then Belkain spoke.
“The Northern Region is currently….”
And as the words continued, Sedrian’s expression began to harden.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————