The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 343

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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 (343)
Whiiiiiii!
The night air of the Northern Region churned violently.
A biting cold wind that seemed to flay the skin carved through the crevices of stone and wailed low, while snowflakes scattered across the darkness-shrouded Snowy Plains glimmered faintly.
The Kar Tribe’s Camp.
Inside the largest Tent.
Within the space enclosed by thick Hide, even the sound of the wind from outside could barely be heard.
Yet the air within was far heavier and more densely settled than without.
“Military Strategist.”
A voice that resonated low.
It felt as though the air itself pressed down upon the Barracks.
To this, Berkal lowered his head and spoke.
“Speak, Taman.”
A posture with one knee bent.
Perfectly composed in courtesy, yet the tension flowing down his spine could not be concealed.
To this, Brakthor Tamantiacum spoke.
“I have granted all that you desired. But do you understand?”
His head tilted slowly.
His gaze fixed upon Berkal.
Brakthor Tamantiacum’s eyes had settled into a cold gleam.
With merely his gaze upon him, a compression seemed to bear down upon the shoulders.
Brakthor Tamantiacum continued.
“If this Operation fails, irreversible damage will befall us—you understand this, yes?”
“…Of course.”
The air within the Tent settled even more heavily.
A low response flowed from Berkal’s lips. His voice was brief, yet without tremor.
As his words suggested, this Attack was far more audacious than any Operation the Kar Tribe had undertaken thus far.
Perhaps it was an assault that had cast aside even the minimal safeguards they had maintained until now.
An extraordinarily perilous Operation indeed.
Should they suffer a significant loss of Military Strength in this War, the danger to the entire Kar Tribe would be immense.
Yet precisely because of this, one could be all the more certain.
Berkal’s head rose with the slightest movement.
“Taman, we are…never weak.”
His voice quietly carved through the Tent.
“The reason we have not pushed back the Imperial Army until now is because we fought while protecting what we possess.”
In this Northern land where we possess scarcely anything of substance.
In this desolate place where there is naught but wind and snow.
What could that possibly be.
What is it we protect.
But now, it is different.
Berkal’s eyes gradually burned with intensity.
“If we stake everything and collide with them, the Empire… will never be able to stop us.”
Certainty.
Unwavering conviction.
The moment those words left his lips, the air inside the tent seemed to tremble.
“….”
Brakthor Tamantiacum said nothing.
He simply gazed at Berkal in silence.
His eyes grew cold and distant.
Yet within that gaze lay a complexity of emotions.
Over long years.
There were things preserved through countless battles, but also walls that could never be crossed.
As Berkal said, until now they had fought the Imperial Army while maintaining their authority and possessions.
Perhaps, as this young strategist suggested.
‘Would things have been different if we had cast everything aside… and moved with our entire being at stake?’
His gaze lingered momentarily in empty space.
Countless choices from the past flashed through his mind in an instant.
Though brief, the moment held profound reflection.
Brakthor Tamantiacum nodded.
“I will watch over whatever you do. And should….”
His voice dropped low.
As if seized by resolve, the air trembled subtly.
Brakthor Tamantiacum spoke.
“If my role is needed, speak without reservation.”
In that moment.
“…!”
Berkal’s pupils dilated sharply.
His heart surged with a violent beat.
He could not misunderstand the meaning of what Brakthor Tamantiacum had just uttered.
The sole one among the Kar Tribe.
The absolute being bearing eight Feather Tattoos.
Brakthor Tamantiacum.
He was saying he could take the battlefield himself.
It was not merely a reinforcement of military strength.
It was a declaration that the entire Kar Tribe was staking everything.
Moreover.
‘The true… Sovereign of the Northern Region enters the battlefield.’
Berkal’s hands trembled ever so slightly.
Yet he quickly composed himself and lifted his head with a calm expression.
And he met Brakthor Tamantiacum’s gaze directly.
“I will secure victory without fail.”
Brief words, yet heavier than any oath.
With that, Berkal turned his body.
The entrance of the leather tent came into view.
The sound of the wind outside grew increasingly distinct.
One step.
Another step.
There was no hesitation in his stride.
The moment he stepped outside the tent.
Whoooosh!
A biting wind lashed across his face.
Yet his gaze remained unwavering.
Now all preparations were complete.
Now the Kar Tribe, the entire army.
‘It is time to march.’
War had begun.
* * *
Helikel Gorge.
Aikuled.
Elvarfiel Lake.
Three key strategic points in the Northern Region.
An additional ten thousand troops were deployed to each of these three camps, completing the Formation.
Tension hung heavy at each location. These were not mere defensive lines, but critical strongholds that would determine the course of war itself.
And….
The narrow path that once wound tightly between towering rock faces had long since opened wide, and in its place, Imperial Soldiers now maintained an iron-clad Guard Duty.
The camp at Helikel Gorge.
Now befitting the name of a fortress, the soaring stone walls added both grandeur and solidity.
Soldiers stood in rows atop the towering Castle Wall, and those bearing Command Authority stood at their center.
Belkain Kaeron.
His gaze swept slowly across the surroundings.
The movements of soldiers, the deployed Formation, supply status—everything.
He grasped it all without missing a single moment.
But soon his gaze turned to the one beside him.
Colonel Ruocal.
A man recently promoted from Major to Colonel due to his merits on the Northern Front. And now the Commander entrusted with full authority over Helikel Gorge.
Belkain, regarding him, opened his mouth.
“Are all preparations complete?”
“Yes, sir. All troops are ready to move at any moment.”
With only the minimum forces necessary to defend Helikel Gorge left behind, all other troops had finished their preparations to move.
At Ruocal’s words, Belkain nodded.
But watching Belkain, Ruocal spoke carefully.
“Commander, sir. Currently… the Kar Tribe is gathering at some distance from Belikezel.”
That single statement weighed the air down heavily.
Belkain’s eyes narrowed.
“So their attack won’t be long now.”
It was already a known fact.
Only, those guys’ movements were faster than anticipated.
This was precisely why I was hastily relocating troops to the Belikezel Camp.
‘Now…’
Time was running out.
If I didn’t hurry to establish a Formation, an irreversible catastrophe could unfold.
“Sigh…”
Belkain exhaled softly.
White breath froze and scattered into the empty air, and doubt seeped into his eyes.
I didn’t know what the Kar Tribe was thinking, but…
My gaze turned toward the distant north.
‘Ominous.’
My chest tightened strangely.
It wasn’t mere tension.
The instinct honed through countless battlefields was warning of danger.
It felt like the eerie calm before a storm descends.
Yet Belkain’s expression remained unshaken.
His gaze was still cold and resolute.
“Move the troops.”
A brief declaration.
With those words, everything was decided.
I couldn’t shake the unease, but with thorough preparation…
‘No matter what those bastards attempt…’
I had the confidence to stop them.
Countless sacrifices.
This place was built upon blood and death.
I could never let them seize it again.
‘No matter what happens…’
I will protect it.
That resolve sustained Belkain.
Soon…
Whoooooooooooo!
A Horn’s blast that shook the entire Gorge echoed out.
A signal announcing the movement.
At the same moment, the Soldiers began moving in unison.
Clank! Clank!
The Trained Soldiers began moving swiftly without hesitation, and with each step, the sound of their equipment rattled and clanged.
All troops except the minimal force left to defend the Helikel Gorge.
That number alone amounted to sixteen thousand soldiers.
And that massive force began to move as a single, unified flow.
Thud, thud, thud.
Countless footsteps passed through the City Gate of the Helikel Gorge Fortress and began their march toward Belikezel.
But….
“This is grave news!”
When the report arrived shortly after, the entire Northern Front began to stir with great unease.
* * *
The tension in the Northern Region cast a heavy pall that even the Imperial Palace could not escape.
The steps of officials quickened, and the voices of servants grew hushed.
Everyone passing through the corridors watched one another carefully, their words measured and sparse.
With no certainty as to when war would erupt in the North, not a soul dared to laugh loudly or display any semblance of ease.
Most of those present in this place, and those connected to them, had departed for the Battlefield in the North.
Yet within that suffocating tension.
“This is grave news!”
A sudden cry tore through the air of the Imperial Palace in an instant.
A Messenger rushed down the corridor.
His breath came in ragged gasps, reaching the very limit of his lungs, and beads of cold sweat dotted his brow.
The Letter clutched in his hand was crumpled from his desperate grip, and his steps were frantic.
The attendants and Soldiers nearby turned their gaze toward him at once.
Yet none moved to stop him.
The gravity of the situation was evident from his expression alone.
The Ministry of Military Affairs Office.
The heavy door was thrust open roughly.
“…What is the matter?”
Elhart, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Military Affairs, looked up from the Documents he had been organizing at his desk.
His brow furrowed deeply.
For something to warrant such a commotion at a time like this, it could not possibly be a trivial matter.
“Haa… haa….”
The Messenger gasped for breath before managing to speak.
“The… the Kar Tribe in the North has begun their Attack.”
At those words, Elhart’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…?”
It was something he had anticipated.
The movements of the Kar Tribe.
The concentration of troops.
And the possibility of Attack.
Taking all of this into account, Central Command had dispatched thirty thousand troops in reinforcement.
The defensive lines were already established, and I had heard that preparations against them were complete.
Yet was there truly a need for such urgency?
Elhart’s gaze shifted toward the Letter clutched in the Messenger’s hand.
“Bring that here at once.”
A curt command, delivered without hesitation.
The Messenger extended the Letter with trembling hands.
Snap.
Elhart tore open the Seal without a moment’s doubt.
His eyes traced across each line of text.
And then….
“…!”
His pupils dilated sharply.
Each sentence inscribed upon the Letter the Messenger had delivered was no ordinary matter.
His body shot upright from his seat.
The chair scraped backward with a dull thud.
“I must see His Majesty at once—immediately! You come with me!”
His voice trembled.
How could such a thing be possible?
If this were true….
“Damn it…!”
Elhart read through the contents of the Letter once more.
· Belikezel, Aikuled, Elvarfiel Lake. Simultaneous coordinated attacks by the Kar Tribe underway.
· Enemy forces confirmed to exceed twenty thousand at each location.
Special note:
· A significant contingent of Kar Tribe Warriors bearing seven Feather Tattoos has joined the assault.
Belikezel—attacking it was tantamount to striking at Helikel Gorge itself.
They had launched simultaneous assaults on three strategic points.
That alone would have been a dire situation.
‘But….’
The special note: a significant contingent of Kar Tribe Warriors bearing seven Feather Tattoos has joined the assault.
This was something that could never be overlooked.
In all previous decisive battles against the Kar Tribe, Warriors bearing seven Feather Tattoos had participated only twice in recent memory.
Yet even those had fallen to Arteon, who was called the God of War of the Empire.
‘They give no thought whatsoever to the risks of war….’
Elhart’s pace quickened as he hurried toward Sedrian’s Office.
If this crisis were not swiftly contained….
‘The Northern Region could be lost.’
A heavy oppressive weight began to settle across the entire Imperial Palace.

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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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