The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 347

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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 (347)
The wind cutting across the Gorge bit sharply into my skin.
Below the steep Cliff, countless stones tumbled endlessly downward, and beneath them, the fleeing Kar Tribe Warriors moved dimly through clouds of dust.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
From below the Canyon Wall, watching the Kar Tribe escape, Isaac’s gaze grew cold and settled.
At the end of his line of sight, Kar Tribe Warriors scattered and rushed madly along the base of the Gorge.
The lingering echoes of that battle I had witnessed moments before seemed to cling to their backs still.
And now, as the enemy fled.
―Remember this. The moment those bastards attempt to escape, you must move first and strike at their flank.
It was an order Arteon had issued beforehand.
His voice remained vivid in my ears even now.
I was certain that the moment I moved to the front, they would have no choice but to retreat.
Confidence in oneself.
Without belief in that, this operation would be impossible.
“Truly, you are the Unit Commander, are you not?”
Kelrethon, the support Company Commander of the Silent Spear Unit running beside me, spoke to Isaac.
Hoofbeats struck the rocks, and sparks erupted momentarily.
Isaac shook his head.
“There could be no words more fitting than that.”
A brief answer.
Yet within it lay absolute conviction.
Still, this was the first battle since the new Squad Members had arrived.
Given the Silent Spear Unit’s combat characteristics, if the Squad Members did not become completely unified, there was a risk of critical gaps opening.
The spacing between the horses running across the Gorge was maintained with subtle precision.
A dangerous terrain where even the slightest disruption could lead to a fall from the saddle.
Whether the new Squad Members, who had not yet completed a full year of training, could truly adapt in real combat.
Perhaps this important battle would determine that very question.
Isaac spoke to Kelrethon.
“Tell each Company Commander to keep the new Squad Members under firm control. Should any of them break formation or fail to execute the operation properly, the other Squad Members could find themselves in danger.”
“Understood.”
Soon after Kelrethon fell back, Isaac urged his horse forward faster, overtaking them.
My horse cut through the wind as it raced across the Gorge.
Though brief, these were horses I had spent time with, even sleeping alongside them.
Thanks to that, I had now reached the point where I could ride without reins and wield weapons freely from horseback, even engaging in combat.
‘It was not easy, though….’
Some had fallen away in that process.
Only those who endured to the end stood here now.
We were always those who accomplished what needed to be done.
Soon, a descending passage came into view before Isaac’s eyes.
Narrow and steep downward slope.
One misstep would send them plummeting into the Gorge below, yet fear held no dominion here.
Isaac spoke.
“All squad members, descend through the path ahead and strike the Kar Tribe from the flank! Steel yourselves!”
“Yes, understood!”
The squad members moving in unison shouted loudly, gripping their reins with white-knuckled intensity.
Tension permeated the air like an invisible fog.
And among the recruits positioned near the center of each company.
Bran, a new recruit assigned to the 1st Company, swallowed hard as orders cascaded down rapidly.
His throat felt parched and constricted.
Now they would descend below the Hill in the Gorge and strike the enemy’s flank, and yet—
“H-hey, brother. We’ll… be okay, right?”
He spoke to Terik, who rode beside him, his hands trembling faintly as he gripped the reins.
Sweat already pooled thickly in his palms.
Terik trembled as well, though—
“Bran, don’t be afraid. Our seniors will guide us, so just don’t make mistakes and follow orders.”
“Ah, understood.”
Yet Bran’s lips continued to quiver.
His heart hammered wildly in his chest.
He had endured the grueling training thus far, but the pressure of actual combat exceeded imagination itself.
Even the wind striking his ears sounded sharp and piercing.
If this was the pressure before battle had even begun—
‘I’m… terrified…!’
Once actual combat commenced, that pressure would intensify beyond measure.
And Bran was not alone in feeling this weight.
Most of the newly arrived recruits without actual combat experience shared the same dread.
But then came that moment.
“If you’re afraid, then be afraid. Don’t force yourself to suppress it.”
“…Pardon?”
Bartell, the Company Commander of the 1st Company of the Silent Spear Unit, had drawn alongside them, his gaze fixed forward as he spoke.
His words were calm, yet carried an undeniable weight.
“Fear is natural. It may even cause you to make mistakes.”
But—
Whoosh.
Bartell looked at Bran and the other recruits as he continued.
His eyes burned with unwavering resolve.
“Whatever mistakes you make, don’t worry. In this battle, we’ve already anticipated even your worst blunders, and we’ll move accordingly. So since you’re going to make them anyway, why not make grand mistakes here?”
“Heh, now that I think about it, I remember my first battle—I couldn’t even thrust my Spear and just collapsed right there.”
“You didn’t fail to thrust; you just chickened out, didn’t you?”
“You crazy bastard!”
When one squad member burst out in protest, the senior members around him erupted in snickering laughter.
The tension that had gripped the air began to dissipate, thread by thread.
But more than that.
Mistakes were acceptable.
These words alone lifted the crushing weight that had pressed down upon the new Squad Members’ shoulders.
The compression that had squeezed my chest loosened, if only slightly.
And finally.
“Think about what Unit you now belong to. Surely you don’t believe we’re the sort of people who can’t cover for a few mistakes from new recruits?”
“W-we won’t make any mistakes!”
“Aren’t we the greatest Unit on the Continent? I’ll make certain to live up to that name.”
At Bartell’s words, several new Squad Members spoke with renewed confidence.
The trembling in their eyes gradually hardened into resolve.
The light had returned to their gaze.
And with it came another command.
“We advance! All Unit Members, increase speed!”
The order, originating from Isaac, cascaded down swiftly as Bartell roared the command aloud.
He urged his horse forward, raising the Spear he held slightly.
The horses surged forward in unison, accelerating as one.
Without hesitation, they thundered down the winding descent.
Now.
“Die, all of you…!”
The Silent Spear Unit, drenched in crimson Killing Intent.
Hooves drummed against the earth, creating a thunderous roar.
No longer infantry, but mounted cavalry, they charged ferociously toward the Kar Tribe’s flank.
Dust swirling in their wake.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Death itself came rushing toward them.
* * *
A harsh wind wailed down the Gorge, as if lamenting.
The Ground was thick with dust and blood mingled together, and with each fleeing Kar Tribe Warrior’s footfall, earth erupted skyward.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
The sound of hooves and footsteps tangled together, making the entire Gorge tremble as if shaken by an unseen force.
“Haah…! Haah…! Haah…!”
Retreating alongside the Warriors, they chose to scatter in different directions for maximum survival.
In case those bastards could pursue.
The shadows of the scattered Warriors stretched long along the Canyon Wall.
“Ugh… slowly… run….”
At Rakjen’s words, hanging from his shoulder, Gormak’s expression twisted violently.
Blood flowing from his shoulder drenched the back of his body.
“Say one more word, and I’ll leave you here and move on… so you’d better keep that mouth shut.”
Knowing those words were no empty threat, Rakjen clamped his mouth shut.
In truth, the great warriors understood their mutual necessity, but there was no loyalty binding them to risk so much for a rescue.
Yet one thing remained.
―Remember this above all. Should an enemy appear that cannot be overcome, the great warriors must return alive at any cost.
The Military Strategist’s voice echoed vividly in my mind.
This was the foremost principle for victory in this war that the Military Strategist had left behind.
Even at the cost of sacrificing regular warriors, the great warriors must survive and return.
The screams and metallic clashes from behind grew increasingly distant.
I understood well enough.
A warrior bearing seven Feather Tattoos possessed individual strength equivalent to thousands of regular warriors—perhaps even ten thousand or more.
Because the Military Strategist spoke with authority equal to Taman himself, Gormak had even cast aside his Axe, the very extension of himself, to create this opportunity.
The impact and thunderous sound of that moment still reverberated in my ears.
Thanks to it, I could flee like this.
“Damn… it… all!”
How could I bear this shattered pride as a great warrior of the Kar Tribe?
Veins bulged across the back of my clenched fist.
I burned to rush back and sever that bastard’s head.
But hadn’t I realized in that single strike?
That I could never defeat him.
I barely withstood a simple Thrusting—how could I continue fighting?
‘This humiliation… I will repay it without fail.’
With that, Gormak pushed off the ground and accelerated further.
Each time his feet struck the earth, soil erupted beneath him.
But before they could fully escape Iculed’s Gorge.
“The, the Imperial Army!”
“The Imperial cavalry has appeared!”
Suddenly, murmurs erupted around them, followed by someone’s cry.
That shout spread instantly as terror.
At the warriors’ cry, Gormak turned his gaze toward the Canyon Wall rising like a hill beside them.
There.
Dust streamed down in long trails.
When had they overtaken us?
Watching the Imperial cavalry descend along the narrow path of the Canyon Wall, Gormak’s eyes widened in shock.
‘Such… such cavalry existed?’
A path nearly vertical in its incline.
The slightest misstep would send one plummeting to certain death below.
Yet they descended like madness itself, charging down the wall as though untouched by fear.
The horses’ muscles rippled, their hooves scraping stone as they descended.
But that was not where the problem ended.
“No, stop them!”
Watching them descend below, Gormak roared with all his might.
But the Imperial Army commander leading the vanguard drew his Sword, unleashing an Aura wreathed in azure light.
The air around him warped and twisted.
“Seize their feet! Do not allow them to advance deeper!”
“Attack them from the outer edges as if scraping them away! Watch the flanks!”
“Understood!”
Following the cascade of commands, the Silent Spear Unit Members wheeled their Northern Horses sideways and carved through the Kar Tribe’s flank with surgical precision.
Like trained Blades bending in unison, their movements flowed with perfect synchronization.
The Kar Tribe Warriors could not hide their shock at the sudden shift in the Battlefield.
Slash! Thud!
“Kraaaaahhhhh!”
“No, attack them!”
“Gaaaaaahhhhh!”
The Kar Tribe Warriors crumbled without mounting any resistance against the massive, rampaging Northern Horses.
The weight of the beast, its velocity, and the strikes raining down from above—
All of it converged into a one-sided massacre.
And witnessing this spectacle—
“How dare you…!”
Gormak’s eyes blazed as he seized the Axe from a nearby Warrior.
The Axe trembled faintly in his grip.
He wanted nothing more than to charge at them in a single bound and tear them limb from limb.
“…Damn it.”
But he froze, his gaze turning toward the opposite Hill.
His instincts screamed a warning.
Somewhere along the way…
“That monster of a bastard.”
The very creature he had faced before the City Gate of Aikuled Fortress now stood atop the Canyon Wall, looking down upon them.
His silhouette emerged starkly against the backlighting.
And in that instant, the air throughout the entire Gorge seemed to freeze and settle.

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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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