The Mad Spearman of the Northern Front - Chapter 351

—————
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 (351)
I knew firsthand the extent of the Gahultadra Unit’s strength.
If a single unit moved, it would be capable of handling several warriors bearing six Feather Tattoos.
But….
“…Damn it all.”
Among the warriors of the Gahultadra Unit, composed of two thousand soldiers, over one hundred and fifty had fallen as war casualties.
In merely a few minutes since the clash had begun.
And furthermore….
Drip… drip… drip….
Kaldrikran furrowed his brow at the blood trickling down his left arm and falling to the ground.
By gambling on a desperate gambit that completely collapsed one wall of the Gorge, he had bought time for a withdrawal.
For an ordinary human.
No—even for one of considerable experience, maintaining composure in such circumstances would have been nearly impossible.
In a life-or-death crisis where everyone could perish, that guy had compressed every possible move he could execute into those brief moments.
“Are you unharmed, Great Warrior Kaldrikran?”
As I returned to Formation, Berkal, who had been waiting, approached.
His expression was so composed, as if he had anticipated such a situation.
“This bastard deserves to die…!”
Unable to contain his rage, Kaldrikran reached out and seized his throat.
“Gack!”
Kaldrikran gripped his throat with such force it seemed he might crush it instantly.
“K-Kaldrik… gack…!”
Berkal’s feet lifted from the ground as he thrashed about.
The other warriors nearby watched with expressions of alarm, yet none dared intervene.
A Great Warrior bearing seven Feather Tattoos.
In fact, aside from the Great Taman, was he not the strongest warrior among them?
Had Kaldrikran not stepped forward, the thousands of warriors who had gone to Icicle Red Gorge would have all perished.
“Did you know such a situation would arise? Because of your foolishness, over a thousand Regular Warriors have died, and more than a hundred warriors of the Gahultadra Unit have fallen as well.”
Tremendous Killing Intent erupted from Kaldrikran’s eyes.
The sacrifice was far too great to dismiss as a mere momentary mistake.
But then.
“Stop. You’ll kill the Military Strategist at this rate.”
“…?”
At the voice from beside him, Kaldrikran turned his head.
Two men walking toward this place.
Serkarun and Turgash.
Both of them, Great Warriors bearing seven Feather Tattoos.
Serkarun, who had remonstrated, continued speaking.
“Could that guy have known the Military Strategist would come to that place?”
He gently pressed down on Kaldrikran’s hand gripping Berkal’s throat and slowly lowered it.
Kaldrikran pretended he couldn’t overcome me, lowering his hand and releasing the grip he’d maintained on the Military Strategist’s neck.
Serkarun spoke.
“Still, because he’s a Military Strategist of that caliber, we were able to contain the damage quickly. If you hadn’t arrived in time, the casualties would have been far more severe than they are now.”
“….”
Among the Great Warriors, Serkarun was one with a relatively composed temperament.
Moreover, from what I’d heard, he and Turgash had succeeded in recapturing the stronghold at Elvarfiel Lake.
“Since there are eyes watching, wouldn’t it be better to stop here?”
“…You’re right.”
Kaldrikran turned his body away.
In truth, what had erupted was merely the accumulation of tension from the tribe’s shifted atmosphere in recent days—he harbored no genuine ill will toward the Military Strategist.
Rather, the more he encountered him, the more astonishing his actions became.
Had he not orchestrated the unprecedented aggressive offensives the tribe had never before attempted, and completely reversed the dire circumstances they had only suffered through until now?
But what frightened him most of all was this.
‘…Serkarun is right.’
Had the Military Strategist not responded with such speed, the two Great Warriors who had gone to Aikuled and thousands of warriors would have all perished.
By deploying himself and the Gahultadra Unit to that location, he had narrowly averted the worst-case scenario.
“Forgive my rudeness, Military Strategist.”
“…I’ll let this one pass this time.”
Berkal rose from his seat, touching his neck where vivid red marks remained.
For him, who had been granted full authority by Brakthor Tamantiacum, to commit such an act.
Yet even Berkal could not act carelessly toward Kaldrikran.
As the second-in-command of the Kar Tribe, his strength was absolutely necessary to achieve victory in this war.
Berkal spoke.
“First… after we treat the wounded Great Warrior Rakjen, we will proceed with an executive meeting.”
“Treat him? You speak of treatment even after seeing Rakjen’s condition?”
Rakjen’s injuries were severe.
They were not at a level that could be recovered through ordinary means.
But Berkal shook his head at Kaldrikran’s words.
“He is already undergoing treatment. In a few hours, I believe… he will be able to move.”
“What do you mean by…”
It was utterly incomprehensible.
He was essentially in a state where death was certain—he simply hadn’t died yet.
Could such grievous injuries truly be recovered in mere hours?
But Berkal spoke, looking at the Great Warriors present.
“I will show you. Please follow me.”
“….”
The Great Warriors present followed Berkal toward the interior of the camp.
What could possibly be in this place?
But as they entered the cave that lay beyond the massive wall surface at the far end of the camp, Rakjen came into view, lying within a transparent liquid that shimmered with a reddish hue.
And yet….
“…!”
The expressions of all the Great Warriors shifted to shock upon seeing Rakjen.
It was inevitable.
Until arriving here, severe burns and patches of flesh torn away had been visible across his body.
But….
“The wounds….”
“Military Strategist, what in the world is this!”
Turgash, who had struck the stronghold at Elvarfiel Lake alongside Serkarun, cried out in question.
To that, Berkal gazed upon the liquid in which Rakjen was immersed and spoke.
“It is what we call a High Potion.”
“…A potion?”
It was a name none had heard before.
To which Berkal added as a final remark:
“It is a remedy that can be called the tears of the divine—something only the rarest of high-ranking individuals across the Continent employ in moments of dire crisis. Merely sprinkling it upon wounds causes them to heal, and drinking it cures all injuries within the body.”
The method of crafting potions is extraordinarily difficult and demands astronomical sums of wealth.
To fill a bathtub barely large enough for a single person with potion….
“It consumed enough gold to feed one hundred thousand warriors of the tribe for an entire year.”
“A, an entire year?”
“Madness.”
The reaction was only natural.
That such an immense fortune had been expended here meant that supplies to sustain the war effort were critically scarce.
And so Berkal spoke.
“The moment Great Warrior Rakjen recovers, we shall concentrate all our warriors and invade the designated operational zone.”
And that invasion must succeed without fail.
“Should we fail even once… this war will be over.”
There was but one reason the Kar Tribe could make such a bold choice as employing a potion.
The existence of a Great Warrior had become desperately necessary to their current situation.
Losing two of the nine Great Warriors had been an agonizing blow.
Even now, whenever I lay down to sleep, regret over Morganteron’s death came flooding back.
I should have forced a retreat with him then.
Had I done so, far more tactical options would have become available.
Yet even returning to that moment, I would have made the same choice.
Any hesitation would have cost us our lives in that place.
At Berkal’s words, Serkarun beside him asked:
“An invasion? Where is the operational zone?”
“Once all preparations are complete, I shall inform you then. Until that time, the operational location must not leak to the outside under any circumstances.”
“…You mean to keep it secret even from us?”
Several of the Great Warriors made no effort to conceal their displeasure.
But this was a moment of such critical importance—standing upon the very edge of a cliff.
And so.
“In the next battle….”
Berkal’s eyes flashed with fierce intensity as he spoke.
“I intend to completely transform the atmosphere of this Northern Region.”
With those words, the expressions of the great warriors hardened as well.
* * *
Crrrrrrrrrunch!
The wall of the Icicle Red Gorge crumbled.
With a thunderous sound as if the earth itself were splitting apart, one side of the Gorge’s wall collapsed in a cascade of massive fragments.
In an instant, dust filled my entire vision.
The air twisted into murky haze, and even breathing became labored and rough.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
Enormous boulders that fell belatedly struck the ground, causing the earth to undulate.
Soldiers whose footing wavered and nearly lost their balance quickly lowered their stance.
“Everyone, retreat!”
Isaac’s cry erupted, and the Silent Spear Unit Members responded reflexively.
They swiftly turned their reins and escaped the danger zone, evading the falling rocks.
And moments later.
The sound of collapse faded, and what remained was….
A path completely blocked.
The Silent Spear Unit Members gathered before the collapsed Gorge wall.
They could only shake their heads at this absurd sight.
What blocked their path was no mere obstacle.
A mountain of stone at least dozens of meters high.
To carve a new path would require deploying enormous manpower and weeks of grueling labor at minimum.
Someone muttered softly at the sight.
“Even the Kar Tribe… has someone unreasonable.”
“To collapse an entire gorge of this magnitude. A being who far transcends human limits.”
Someone who cannot be merely called a 7-Star.
Perhaps….
‘Has an enemy appeared who stands at the same realm as our Unit Commander?’
The moment that thought reached that point, several soldiers’ breathing wavered slightly.
They knew.
How extraordinary the being they followed truly was.
Yet an enemy of comparable rank?
Their minds grew complicated in many ways.
But then.
“Is anyone injured?”
Arteon approached and asked.
His figure, parting through the dust as he walked, remained utterly unshaken.
His garments brushed in the wind, his eyes cold and composed.
He maintained an indifferent expression, his face composed and calm.
Yet his right hand—
The fingertips gripping Iglis trembled ever so slightly.
“Are you alright?”
Isaac approached and asked.
He had grasped Arteon’s condition at a glance.
“…No.”
Arteon shook his head.
Truthfully, that final strike—
I had believed that single blow would be enough to capture that guy.
A strike delivered with complete focus, pouring every ounce of my strength into it.
It was not merely an attack but a ‘killing blow.’
But…
‘…How could he possibly deflect that?’
The sensation from that moment still lingered at my fingertips.
A realm where exquisite precision and overwhelming power existed simultaneously.
The intelligence on those bastards was far too insufficient.
That guy I had just faced.
Was he not someone I had never even heard of in my past life?
Perhaps I would need to reassess the information regarding the Kar Tribe.
Arteon suppressed his frustration and turned his body around.
“We retreat.”
A terse command.
The path was now blocked, leaving no way to continue pursuit.
Even if we forced our way across, it would only be wasted effort.
Surely…we would meet again before long.
And when we did…
Arteon’s gaze turned toward the collapsed wall of the Gorge.
But then—
“However… it seems they didn’t attack only our position… I wonder if the Supreme Commander is safe?”
Isaac asked carefully.
Clearly, the movement of so many War Casualties meant there was a possibility they had attacked elsewhere as well.
Arteon too had been most concerned about that very matter.
“There is no need to worry about that location.”
He spoke with conviction.
His words carried absolute certainty.
At Isaac’s puzzled expression, Arteon turned his gaze westward.
Far beyond the Gorge.
The unseen Battlefield.
“Because that Red-haired Comrade stands beside the Supreme Commander.”
At those words, Isaac could recall the “Red-haired Comrade” that Arteon had mentioned.

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