The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 350

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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 (350)
Outside, a fierce blizzard hammered against the barracks.
The howling wind swept across the hide-woven walls like the cry of some savage beast, striking them relentlessly.
Flap, flap.
Each time the tent shuddered violently, the lamp hanging inside swayed precariously, casting long shadows in the dim firelight.
“Taman, might I ask you one thing?”
“Speak.”
A short, low voice.
With those words, the air inside the barracks seemed to settle in an instant.
Grashkhal, where the harshest winds of the Northern Region blow.
Within the barracks at its heart, Halkansor, the Kar Tribe’s Chief Strategist, bowed before Brakjor, the Grand Taman.
“Did you know this would happen?”
Halkansor’s voice was cautious, yet it carried an unmistakable tension.
But Brakjor answered with an impassive expression.
“Perhaps.”
“I confess my concern. What if, later, he should harbor different intentions?”
His gaze fell briefly to the map on the ground.
A specific point.
There lay a single piece painted black, unlike the other markers.
His actions thus far had been far too unconventional.
Armed with full authority from Grand Taman Brakthor Tamantiacum, was he not executing operations of unprecedented audacity?
He moved in ways entirely foreign to the traditional Kar Tribe.
Moreover…
“That unit he created may not be for Taman at all. It was formed without even seeking permission in the first place.”
Halkansor’s eyes grew even more intense.
The unit he had called his trump card was something even he, the Chief Strategist who oversaw all the Kar Tribe, had not known of.
It was no ordinary unit.
Training methods, equipment, tactics.
Everything diverged completely from the existing warriors—an entirely different breed of unit.
Yet Brakjor spoke softly to Halkansor.
“Chief Strategist.”
“Yes, Taman.”
As Halkansor bowed in response, Brakjor spoke.
“Do not think your position is being threatened. Now is a time when we, too, require change.”
His voice remained composed.
He understood what Halkansor feared.
And not merely Halkansor alone.
A young strategist had appeared suddenly and was now issuing them commands—naturally, they would be bewildered.
But…
Whoosh.
Brakjor rose from his seat.
He knew it himself, but it was something he hadn’t done in a long time.
Even as tens of thousands of Warriors were dying, warmth lingered in this place.
In a sense, it seemed he had simply gone through the motions of things out of habit, born from complacency.
But Brakjor had long since realized that this could not continue.
He simply didn’t know how to break free from it.
That was why, twenty years ago, when he became the Taman of the entire Kar Tribe.
It was a plan he had prepared from that moment onward.
Namely, to send young Kar Tribe members not to this Northern land, but to the Continent.
Brakjor’s gaze chased his past self.
‘It was not an easy path….’
He believed it was something the Kar Tribe had to do in order to survive.
And now, twenty years after beginning that task.
And that effort had finally borne fruit.
“Halkansor.”
“…Yes, Taman.”
“Do not mention this matter again. Now is not the time to suspect one another, but to become one.”
His words were resolute.
A command that left no room for doubt.
The air inside the Barracks grew heavier still.
Of course, I understood Halkansor’s feelings as well.
When I saw that Unit, I too thought it was quite remarkable.
They were different.
Their movements, their gaze, their judgment.
As if they were Warriors who ‘read’ the Battlefield and fought.
To that extent…,
‘That much would be necessary….’
To fight against those bastards who had threatened this Northern Region.
Brakjor’s gaze turned southward.
Toward the entrance of the Barracks.
Through the gap in the Tent fluttering slightly in the wind, darkness was dimly visible.
By now.
‘A tremendous Bloodbath must be raging there as well.’
Along with the sound of the cold Northern wind drifting from outside, Brakjor’s gaze remained fixed in that direction.
* * *
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
The Ground trembled as dust rose in the distance.
At first it was merely a faint vibration.
But as time passed, the trembling grew steadily stronger.
Like the sensation of a massive beast stirring and rising from beneath the earth.
Something black gradually came into view.
Beyond the horizon, a silhouette emerged from the dust clouds.
At first it was hazy, but it grew increasingly distinct.
Northern Horses that appeared carefully selected at a glance.
Their breath rose white into the air.
Cutting through the frigid atmosphere, rough and deep breathing continued.
The Kar Tribe riders atop them gazed forward with piercing eyes, advancing without hesitation.
The Spears in their hands were steady, and their eyes fixed on a single target.
A Kar Tribe cavalry unit.
Isaac could not hide his astonishment even as he watched with his own eyes.
“A cavalry unit?”
His words were brief, but the weight behind them was heavy.
For a long time now, I had fought the Kar Tribe in countless battles. Yet I had never encountered Kar Tribe cavalry on any Battlefield.
And yet, to think that Kar Tribe cavalry would appear in such a place.
Isaac could see at a glance that the situation was taking an ominous turn.
“Sub-Commander, should we not regroup with the Unit Commander?”
….
At Kelrethon’s words approaching from the side, Isaac’s gaze grew cold and settled.
He felt it too.
If we engaged in a direct confrontation now, there was certainly a high possibility of unforeseen variables.
Cavalry clashing against cavalry.
A single mistake could shatter our Formation, leading directly to Total Annihilation.
But to refuse to bear even such Risk on the Battlefield would be mere greed.
“Direct Breakthrough.”
His voice was low but resolute.
There was no hesitation.
We were the Empire’s finest, no—
‘The Continent’s finest.’
Unit, were we not.
That pride would not permit us to retreat from this place.
If I simply withdrew now, I would have no face to show the Unit Commander.
Everyone had followed me to reach this point.
We had shed blood, crossed the threshold of Death, and survived to the end of it all.
Though this suddenly appeared Unit felt threatening.
“Hehehehe, of course.”
“We cannot retreat upon seeing those Kar Tribe bastards.”
Rough laughter spilled from the Squad Members’ lips.
Retreating without fighting was never an option for us.
Isaac raised his Sword high.
A blue Aura blazed across the Blade’s surface, spreading outward brilliantly.
“We charge as we are. Form up in Charge Formation!”
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
With Isaac’s command, the Squad Members drew closer, tightening their spacing.
The distance between horse and horse.
Spacing calibrated without a single margin of error.
Front, flank, and rear.
Every position moved in calculated precision.
One misstep from any single rider would unleash Disaster upon the entire Formation.
Yet not a soul among them showed a trace of fear.
The time that had passed.
Though merely a few months—brief as it was—they had trained relentlessly, day after day without respite.
Falling, trampled, rising again.
Dozens of times. Hundreds of times.
Now they possessed the confidence to execute it flawlessly even with their eyes closed.
And….
“…Is that truly a Unit marching alongside the Empire’s Warrior?”
“I could have sworn they said it was Infantry… yet they ride Horses.”
“It seems they’ve mastered horsemanship in that brief span.”
The Kar Tribe cavalry.
Aulkup, who led them, curled his lips upward and gripped his Spear tightly.
His eyes gleamed with intrigue.
The past year.
They had endured training so brutally cruel under the newly arrived Military Strategist that it defied comprehension.
Blood drained. Flesh tore.
Those who fell did not rise again.
Only those who survived Hell itself stood here now.
The very act of challenging those who had clawed their way through the abyss was reason enough for their deaths.
“I shall show the world. This entire Continent shall bow beneath our dominion…!”
Aulkup raised his Spear high and roared.
His cry split the Battlefield and rippled outward.
“Charge forth!”
“Uaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
With Aulkup’s cry, Northern Horses clad in black armor thundered across the Ground, their hooves tearing at the earth.
The roars of beasts mingled with the thunder of hoofbeats.
The Ground cracked. Stones erupted skyward.
Two waves surging from opposite sides.
And in the precise moment the two forces collided.
Kwaaaaaaaaang!
A new wind unlike any before swept through the Gorge.
* * *
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
A violent tremor echoed from the distance.
At the sound that seemed to make the entire Gorge resonate, Arteon’s gaze turned toward it.
But in that instant.
“So you have the leisure to concern yourself with other matters?”
Along with a voice that pierced the eardrums, an Air-Rending Sound erupted as the surrounding air seemed to tear asunder.
Shrieeeeeeek!
Thrusting.
One could say that his attack pattern consisted of nothing but Thrusting.
But if that Thrusting had approached near-perfection, the story changed entirely.
It was merely Thrusting, yet its power was more vicious than any attack I had encountered thus far.
Clang!
Kaldrikran’s Spear grazed the edge of Arteon’s coat, slicing through empty air.
In that moment, Kaldrikran’s eyebrows, which had remained expressionless until now, twitched slightly.
Until now, he had been the type to create distance by retreating far back, or to defend.
But that movement just now.
“…It appears the Gahultadra Unit has begun to move.”
“Gahultadra?”
“In the Kar Tribe’s tongue, it means ‘Unceasing Advance.’ It is the unit that brings together the strongest Warriors of our entire tribe.”
“But what does that have to do with anything?”
Boom!
Arteon rolled powerfully across the ground and charged toward Kaldrikran.
In that moment, his Spear extended toward Arteon with tremendous Rotational Force, but
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
Arteon raised Iglis and pushed the Spear upward, driving inward.
As Iglis and Kaldrikran’s Spear collided with a sharp metallic screech, Kaldrikran sprang upward and created distance behind him.
And…
“So the Empire’s God of War truly lives up to his name.”
The moment the blood-red Aura gathered on Kaldrikran’s Spear burst forth like flames.
“This ends here.”
The Aura condensed on his Spear erupted in an instant.
But…
“…?!”
The target was not Arteon, but rather the very Wall of the Gorge itself.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
With a tremendous Thunderous Sound, massive cracks spread across the entire Wall surface of the Gorge.
Crack! Crack-crack-crack-crack!
And simultaneously.
Whoooooooooooosh!
From the Formation of the Kar Tribe in retreat, a massive Horn blared forth.
Kaldrikran then spoke, looking at Arteon.
“If you delay, you’ll lose all your subordinates.”
If the Gorge’s wall collapsed, the Silent Spear Unit below would face total annihilation.
Arteon’s gaze turned cold and settled.
There was no choice in this situation.
“…I’ll leave your head behind.”
I had no intention of letting that guy escape like this. At my words, Kaldrikran’s expression hardened.
“You madman. This isn’t the time to be so leisurely.”
If I didn’t move quickly now, everyone would be buried under the collapsing walls of the Gorge.
For Kaldrikran too, escaping from Arteon was a gamble that carried enormous risk.
And yet.
‘You’re going to fight even in this situation?’
Only a madman would.
But then, as the Aura concentrated into Iglis, Kaldrikran’s expression froze.
Arteon spoke, looking at Kaldrikran.
“This strike… will end it.”
Before.
That very strike with which I had killed Barg Sraban at Preldior.
In the moment the Aura condensed in Iglis stretched forth in a straight line.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaang!
The entire Gorge began to glow with golden light.

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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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