The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 346

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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 (346)
The Gorge, shrouded in darkness, lay silent as a beast holding its breath.
But that silence would not endure.
Flash!
The sky tore asunder as golden lightning cleaved across the Gorge.
Kwaaaaaaang!
A thunderous sound that shook the very earth.
The impact sent the Gorge’s walls crumbling inward, and the cascading boulders struck the ground, shattering into fragments.
Within the rain of debris, the Battlefield’s air twisted in an instant.
At its center.
“Kraaaaaagh!”
In that very moment when lightning poured down, Rakjen screamed as his entire body felt as though it were being torn apart.
Throughout countless Battlefields he had witnessed, had he ever endured such agony even once?
For just a moment.
The thought flickered through his mind that he would have preferred death itself.
Had he not instinctively drawn upon his Mana to shield his body, his entire form would have been consumed in an instant, and he would have perished.
The acrid smell of burnt powder drifting through the air.
That stench, mingled with blood, pierced his nostrils.
“Cough!”
Rakjen, collapsed upon the ground, coughed up blood as his body trembled violently.
But seeing the figure descending from above, Rakjen hastily pushed himself to his feet.
Whiiing!
The falling presence tore through the air as it descended.
Kwaaang!
Arteon’s Spear struck the ground where Rakjen had been standing with tremendous force.
The Spear Blade embedded itself in the earth, and stone fragments erupted in all directions, scattering chaotically.
A shockwave rippled outward in a circular pattern, fracturing the ground.
“Kugh…!”
A considerable portion of Rakjen’s pale skin had been charred black, with severe burn marks where flesh had been torn away in places.
Without immediate treatment, he would lose consciousness from shock and blood loss.
Blood dripped to the ground, soaking the dark earth.
“Gasp… Gasp…!”
Rakjen staggered backward, his body reeling.
His left shoulder, marked with seven Feather Tattoos, had been torn by the lightning, blood streaming down, and his wavering frame seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
Arteon raised his Spear toward him.
I had no intention of dragging this out with arrogance against this opponent.
The air around me warped.
‘End it in an instant.’
If I gave those bastards time, there was no predicting what else might occur.
Arteon concentrated his Aura into the Iglis.
Crack! Crackle!
Golden electricity coursed along the Spear, flinging stone fragments scattered across the ground.
The small pebbles that fell to the floor lifted into the air, trembled faintly, then dropped back down.
The Iglis, opened up to the 8th Stage, completely absorbed all the Aura that Arteon channeled into it.
The realm that Vargas had once reached.
Whether I could ascend beyond that realm remained uncertain.
A subtle shift.
Arteon fully unleashed the power he possessed and gazed at Rakjen before him.
Lightning flickered across his eyes.
Since ascending to the 8-Star realm, a subtle change had emerged from those early days when I used only violent attacks that consumed Aura rapidly.
Now I could wield that immense power with a degree of natural grace.
Sometimes with raw ferocity.
But sometimes with restraint.
And in the face of Arteon’s transformation.
“Cough!”
Rakjen staggered, spitting blood.
His vision blurred and wavered.
His breathing grew increasingly ragged.
‘I… am not his match.’
At minimum three. No, four or more.
Unless that many great warriors engaged this monstrous creature, there was no way to stop him.
‘Is this the end…’
Had I concentrated just a little more.
Had I possessed information about him, I would not have fallen so pathetically.
The battlefields I had traversed flashed rapidly through my mind.
Blood and fire and roaring cries.
Was I to meet such a hollow death after breaking through so many battlefields?
But before that thought could find its answer.
Swoooooooosh!
Against Arteon’s straightforward charge, Rakjen laboriously raised his Sword.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as dust erupted explosively upward.
If I must die, then I die…
“I will leave at least one mark upon your body before I perish!”
Rakjen threw himself at Arteon in a final desperate struggle.
But that was the moment.
Whoosh!
Something suddenly rushed from behind, and Rakjen flinched in surprise, turning his head.
Another presence tearing through the air.
But before he could even comprehend what it was.
Boom!
Right before him.
A thunderous sound erupted, and a colossal shockwave burst forth as if to swallow everything around it.
The impact shook the entire Gorge.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been something I could easily withstand.
“Krraaaaaaagh!”
But wounded as I was, even this became an agony almost unbearable to endure.
Yet….
Thud!
The moment the shockwave ended, a single man stood before my eyes.
It was Gormak, his muscular frame appearing nearly twice the size of my own.
The ground beneath his feet had been carved into a deep depression.
“G-Gormak!”
“…Damn it.”
Gormak tilted his iconic Giant Axe to the side, using the flat of the blade to deflect my Spear.
Sparks erupted from the point of collision.
Yet even Gormak, possessing the finest defense among the great warriors, seemed to struggle against me.
“Krraaaaaaaaaaaagh!”
A roar like that of a beast.
Gormak swung his axe and sent me flying backward.
As a crimson Aura blazed forth like flames, pushing me away.
He caught hold.
Gormak wrapped his thick arm around Rakjen, hoisting him onto his shoulder.
Blood streamed down from his shoulder.
“The operation has failed.”
With those words, Gormak drew upon every ounce of Aura he could muster, concentrating it into his axe.
The air vibrated as if boiling.
And….
“Choose, God of War of the Empire. Will you kill us… or will you save your subordinates…!”
With that declaration, Gormak gazed toward the Castle Wall and hurled his axe, now condensed with Aura.
“Hrraaaaaaagh!”
Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuack!
As if a colossal typhoon were tearing through the heart of Icicle Red Gorge, a tremendous momentum erupted.
Air was drawn into the spinning axe, forming a vortex around it.
Gormak’s axe stretched forth toward the Castle Wall with tremendous rotation.
Its power was such that it could obliterate not merely the City Gate, but the entire Castle Wall, and lay waste to everything within the Castle itself.
At that sight.
A swift motion.
My body seemed to turn slowly.
Boom!
With a single push off the ground, my form shot forth like an arrow.
The ground beneath my feet exploded and fractured.
Before Gormak’s axe could even reach the castle wall.
Clang!
I swung Iglis and struck the axe away in a single motion.
In that instant, a golden trajectory blazed across the empty air.
Whirrrrrrrr!
Gormak’s axe, deflected by Iglis, soared upward and spun rapidly through the sky.
It rose high above.
Then fell to the ground and embedded itself, and I gazed at the place where those bastards had been standing.
But only traces remained.
The moment he threw the axe, they fled together with their comrade.
Despite their reckless appearance as they charged forward, their judgment was remarkably swift.
Especially considering that axe—undamaged even after blocking my attack—must be of tremendous value.
“Marquis Arteon!”
Just then, the city gate opened behind me and Colonel Roen Garbion, the commander, rushed over quickly.
Soldiers were moving busily inside the gate.
And then….
“D-did those bastards escape?”
“Seems so. What happened to the ones who entered the castle?”
“The moment you appeared, Marquis, they climbed back up the wall and fled. It seems… they were carrying some kind of special device on their bodies that allowed them to scale walls.”
No matter how skilled someone was at the 5-Star Level or above, freely climbing the walls of such a treacherous gorge would not be easy.
At Roen’s words, I gazed silently at where those bastards had fled.
The wind was scattering their traces.
Roen spoke.
“It’s a shame. If we’d killed them, we could have greatly weakened their military strength.”
If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it.
The absolute power of a human who had reached the realm of divinity itself.
Golden lightning pouring down like a torrent.
It was so magnificent that calling it the work of a thunder god would be no exaggeration.
But at Roen’s words, I shook my head slightly.
“I have no intention of letting them go.”
“…Yes? What do you mean….”
“They’re already moving, so let’s prepare quickly and march as well.”
I gazed intently at where the Kar Tribe had retreated.
In that moment.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom!
A vibration echoing from above the gorge.
The sound of countless hoofbeats thundered across the earth.
The reason I was alone in this place.
Was precisely.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
A thousand members of the Silent Spear Unit galloped across the Gorge, pursuing the Kar Tribe.
A long plume of dust trailed behind them.
And at its end, the hunt was beginning.
* * *
Thick fog hung low over the Lake.
The Battlefield near Elvarfiel Lake was already drenched in blood.
Splash!
The still waters rippled crimson with the endless cascade of blood and debris.
Shattered shields and torn flags lay tangled in the mud.
At its center.
“Gah…!”
The man stared at the Sword piercing his chest, his expression one of disbelief.
Kaorn, a 6-Star Level Warrior of the Empire.
As a member of a great house, he had ascended to a Realm beyond human limitation.
He had thought this Northern Region was merely another Battlefield where he could etch his name into the Empire’s history.
And yet….
The air grew cold and still.
With each breath, the smell of blood burrowed deep into my lungs.
“Cough!”
Blood streamed from my lips, bubbling like boiling liquid.
This helplessness—there was nothing I could do.
With the Sword lodged in my chest, I surveyed my surroundings.
Soldiers who had already fallen as corpses.
Bodies scattered across the Ground, a mixture of earth and blood, no longer moving.
Steam rose from between broken Spears and torn Armor.
I had resisted desperately, but could not withstand the storm of their attacks.
No.
‘If only I had captured these bastards….’
The situation would have changed dramatically.
But the two who appeared alongside the Kar Tribe.
The two Kar Tribe Warriors bearing seven Feather Tattoos had completely shattered the Front Line.
Nothing remained in their wake.
One had a frame like gazing upon a massive grizzly bear, wielding two Giant Axes in both hands with ease as he slaughtered the Soldiers.
Each step he took made the earth thunder, and with every swing of his Sword, blood erupted explosively.
And the one standing before me now.
“Cough!”
The one wielding the short Sword…I couldn’t even tell when he had arrived here.
His movements were like the wind itself.
The moment I thought I saw him, he was already elsewhere.
Based on his style, he seemed to be a specialist in Assassination.
‘Among the Kar Tribe… was there truly one so skilled in Assassination?’
How futile. How utterly futile.
I never imagined he would surrender his life so easily.
A sudden grip.
Yet Kaorn refused to let it end there, seizing the assassin’s wrist with his left hand.
His blood-soaked hand slipped and clawed inward, but with his final strength, he held firm.
“At least one of your arms…!”
A final spark ignited in his eyes.
“What?”
A wet sound.
Before Kaorn could finish speaking, Serkarun wrenched the sword from his heart.
As the blade withdrew, blood erupted like a fountain.
Crimson blood gushed forth in torrents, and as Kaorn staggered.
A sharp whistle.
A dark Aura flashed, extending in a straight line.
The air split, leaving a thin mark.
A dull thud.
Kaorn’s head fell to the ground.
It rolled across the mud and came to rest.
As his body collapsed, Serkarun, the great Warrior of the Kar Tribe, turned to see who approached.
Another monster stepping through pools of blood.
Another great Warrior, Turgash.
From the two massive Giant Axes gripped in his hands, fresh crimson blood still dripped steadily.
Each drop that fell intensified the smell of blood.
Turgash spoke.
“The rest of them have all fled.”
His voice was low and heavy.
It was a declaration that the battle had ended.
In the distance, the Imperial Army’s retreat was barely visible.
Shattered formations, broken flags.
“The Military Strategist’s operation was certainly effective.”
Serkarun slowly surveyed the surroundings.
A Battlefield completely dominated.
Or perhaps there was no strategy needed—simply deploying such overwhelming Military Strength made it inevitable?
But regardless, through this, we have reclaimed the Elvarfiel Lake that was taken from us.
Wind swept across the Lake.
Waves tinted crimson rippled across its surface.
Serkarun’s lips curved upward.
“Let us go announce our Victory.”
With those words, the air of the Northern Battlefield began to shift subtly.

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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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