Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

As they proceeded along the wide, gilded portico, after the attendants bowed respectfully, Thesolius stood before a massive mahogany door adorned with gilded carvings. As the guards standing on either side also bowed, the heavy door was slowly pushed open, and the clamor outside surged out in an instant, the surging waves almost lifting the chandeliers in the corridor.

"You've finally arrived, my general."

Dressed in full regalia, the majestic and magnificent emperor rose from his throne with a smile to personally greet her. Her cloak, made of white lion fur, was adorned with golden chains hanging from it. At the intersections of the chains, which were as thick as grains of rice seedlings, various gemstones were inlaid and suspended, making it so dazzling and splendid that it seemed as if a rainbow was draped over her shoulders. It was hard to imagine how ingenious the production capacity of this era must have been to achieve such a feat.

“I’m late, Your Majesty… I hope I haven’t missed the most important thing today. This cloak is truly unexpected; it almost blinded me just now, and it perfectly complements your majesty.”

The emperor's smile grew even brighter. He reached out and grabbed his sleeve, then walked directly to a seat nearby—this was the emperor's greatest way of showing intimacy, and also an indescribable favor.

"This is the best sentence I've heard all day, and I hope to hear it here often in the future... Please sit here, my general, Lord Scripps has been waiting for you."

The chair, carved from the finest marble, has a high backrest. Although the various patterns carved on it are exquisite and beautiful, the hard material means that it cannot be very comfortable. Soft fur and cushions are used to try to compensate for this.

Moreover, due to certain limitations, even if the craftsmen of this era were highly skilled, there were still some shortcomings—this was also a sacrifice made for a certain kind of dignity.

The elderly man with a full head of white hair was already seated in the right-hand seat, nodding and smiling at him, to which he returned the smile.

"I should congratulate you, Lord Scripps. You seem to be in increasingly better spirits. May you enjoy good health."

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Tersolius. Perhaps it's because good things have been happening lately. The East also needs to establish a new province, and I've been busy with this matter these past two days. It's all thanks to you that we have this much time."

…………

After a few polite words, Tersolius settled into his seat, and the waiter immediately brought him fine wine and fresh fruit. The grapevines above them had clearly been carefully pruned and selected, with each leaf being whole and broad, revealing only dappled sunlight.

Glancing at the fruit still glistening with dew, Thesolius beckoned to his servant, gave him a few brief instructions, and then peeked out to survey the vast expanse of ground.

"I guess it should start soon. I wonder what they've prepared for this year..."

"It's the same old stuff, nothing new." Taking a sip of the crimson wine from the golden cup beside her, licking her lips, and adjusting the cloak on her shoulders, Clautina said softly:

"After all, the real highlight isn't there, you should know that, right? My championship...?"

“That’s true.” Tersolius chuckled softly. “What everyone wants to see is what’s truly important; after all, this is a place to display honor.”

"You were the star of the show back then. Everyone in the capital was fascinated by you. You were almost overwhelmed by the crowd when you left the arena. If it weren't for the soldiers maintaining order, you probably wouldn't have been able to get out."

"So the second time I was smarter and didn't go out through the main gate. Instead, I went through the hidden door that the arena had specially left open, and sure enough, I wasn't blocked."

"This is an honor that every warrior in the empire yearns for. You won too easily back then, and many people think you didn't even use your full strength... Is that true?"

Upon hearing the topic deliberately raised by the emperor, Tersolius pondered for a moment before speaking:

"I didn't use my full strength most of the time, but I took the fight with that young man seriously. He does have some skill, but unfortunately he was too impatient and too nervous."

"But you defeated him in just a few dozen moves, right? You weren't even hit once."

........................

The three men chatted and laughed in the luxurious and exquisite stands. As the three most powerful and influential people in the entire empire, they appeared unexpectedly harmonious. Even the older Scripps blended in naturally, and an outsider might even have thought they were three rare friends.

A short while later, a servant respectfully and carefully brought in a large silver platter and placed it before them. The aroma wafting from it caught the attention of the other two, and the emperor asked directly:

"Didn't you have the chef prepare food for you before you came? I sent you the best chefs, so don't waste their skills."

"Not at all, Your Majesty. I've been delayed for too long today, so I had this plan in mind before I came..." As Tesorus spoke, he lifted the lid, and a rich aroma swept out like a storm, instantly filling every corner of the room.

"Lolidorf's braised pork is closer to the northern style, so the flavor is a bit stronger, but it's perfect for autumn. I specifically asked for a cut with more tendons, which is thicker and chewier."

Three silver forks were placed beside the plate, on which neatly arranged braised meats, sprinkled with finely chopped cilantro, were served, with a thick layer of reddish-brown sauce drizzled over them.

"Eating only fruit doesn't feel quite right, but this is just right. This is based on my experience. Come on, try everything. Anyway, there's nothing else that needs special attention right now."

The other two readily agreed. Although countless eyes were focused on the stands, the three of them naturally began to eat, enjoying the finest wines from the empire's best wineries, awaiting the opening of this grand competition that captivated the entire empire.

The chefs who can bring food here are certainly not ordinary people. Their mastery of meat preparation and seasoning is unparalleled. However, due to the limited variety of spices, they cannot create such complex flavors, but it is still enough to tantalize the taste buds and stimulate the appetite.

Although the plate looked large, there wasn't much meat inside because it had to be arranged neatly and attractively. Instead, it really whetted their appetites. After getting the other two's consent, the servants immediately went to prepare more food, and soon brought it up.

As if some strange switch had been flipped, those who were at the highest point with the widest view soon discovered that tables of all sizes were also appearing on other stands, and the dignitaries were ordering their servants to bring them food to enjoy before the event officially began.

Tesolius, who had unintentionally set an example, was somewhat amused and exasperated, especially when he saw these people always cautiously glancing in their direction, making sure that the food on their tables would not exceed the size of the food there...

"Perhaps this will become a new habit in the future."

The emperor looked with great interest at the stands that were slightly lower than theirs. Of course, this only happened in their area. In other areas, where the nobles were far away, they were just drinking and making merry. After all, the arena was too magnificent, and even with the sharp eyes of an eagle, it would be difficult to see the whole picture.

"Even if we don't do it, it will definitely happen in the future."

The white-haired Scripps used his small fork to pick up a thin slice of beef, dipped it evenly in the sauce, and then put it in his mouth to chew, continuing to speak while maintaining his composure:

"After all, sometimes you have to stay here for a whole day. In the past, it was just because of some inexplicable custom that no one did it. But no one is made of iron, and sooner or later someone will break this tradition."

Once the long table in front of them was two-thirds full, Tersolius waved for his servants to leave. Almost simultaneously, all the nobles in the stands who could see this scene also ordered their servants to leave.

A mournful horn call rang out from the towering tower at the very top of the arena, immediately triggering a chain reaction. Horns were sounded one after another from nearby high points, until finally, the entire surrounding city resounded with a deep, drawn-out horn call, like rolling thunder across the land, instantly silencing the previous hustle and bustle. Almost everyone fell silent.

Then another flag emerged from a slightly shorter tower atop the arena's gate. The magnificent red and gold flag waved a few times in the strong wind, conveying a message. The clamor that had just been suppressed began to rebound, and people looked up, pointing excitedly at the distinctive signal.

These flags were raised simultaneously on the surrounding high points, and even more were raised on the ground. The only difference was their color. The cheers that had just been barely suppressed began to rebound heavily, almost leveling the surrounding buildings.

"Is it finally about to begin...?"

With a carefully smoked pigeon skewered on an iron fork in his hand, he looked at the spice powder sprinkled on it and sighed that eating something with more bones than meat was indeed troublesome. At the same time, he couldn't help but shift his attention to the wide arena, watching the heavy iron gate slowly rise under the action of the winch, and the heavy and orderly footsteps began to roll like thunder, stirring up billowing dust.

"A new competitive tournament... I wonder what it will be like this time."

212 Competition (4)

As the horns sounded in unison, heavy footsteps rolled in from outside the arena. The legionary soldiers responsible for holding the line in the arena arrived precisely on time. Under the orders of their officers, they formed square formations, each soldier impeccably dressed, their bright red helmet plumes like leaping flames, their pure red cloaks like patches of cloud cut from the sky. Led by the banners of their respective centurions, they marched into the arena with synchronized steps.

And today they will also receive an unparalleled honor—to maintain the most basic order in this place filled with honor and excitement, under the emperor's command and watchful eye.

As soon as the centurion in charge received the order, the well-trained soldiers immediately dispersed to their respective areas, bringing order to the area before the audience entered and preventing any chaos from escalating out of control.

For this reason, the battle-hardened legionary soldiers did not carry their main weapons, but only their personal short weapons, a shield, and a short stick to knock down any idiots. Their presence served as a constant reminder to the Imperials celebrating today: even with certain permission, they could not act recklessly or think they had any opportunity to take advantage of the situation.

The contestants for this competition had been brought here long before the crowds had even gathered. Now, the eager imperial talents were allowed to enter, surging through the more than ninety archways like a tidal wave, transforming the arena into a vibrant sea of ​​colors in the blink of an eye. It filled all six sections, making it incredibly crowded, except for the specially designated passageways; there wasn't even room to squeeze in.

The specially designed arena could hold a full 80,000 spectators, and even without considering safety, that was far from its limit. Many more people waved their coins but couldn't get in, forced to sigh and lament outside, filled with envy for those lucky enough to enter. With so many people gathered together, even if everyone spoke in hushed tones, their combined voices were as grand and awe-inspiring as rolling thunder in a rainstorm, forcing the dignitaries in the stands to raise their voices to each other.

Seventy rows of seats rose in tiers to ensure that those at the back wouldn't be blocked from the view of the exciting match, and all the stands were already bustling with excitement. The crowd couldn't contain their excitement, waving their arms, cheering and shouting, or chatting enthusiastically with acquaintances and strangers next to them, pointing and gesturing restlessly—it was a truly lively scene.

After watching the game all day, hunger was an unavoidable problem. The various counters scattered throughout the stands provided ample drinks, wines, and all sorts of snacks—of course, at significantly higher prices than in the city. But those who had come here weren't going to skimp on a few coins at this point, so they rushed to buy before the game even started. The counters had already been restocked three times in a short time, yet the demand still couldn't meet the supply. Carriages immediately began urgently delivering more goods.

The arena's unique structure amplified the fervor and volume of the cheers from the audience. Just as the noise reached its peak, it was drowned out by a mournful horn call. The war drums standing atop the high platform were forcefully struck by the imperial guards clad in golden armor. The rhythmic drumbeats carried a chilling undertone, silencing the entire populace. Silence spread like a virus, rapidly reaching other areas of the arena and its perimeter. Before long, even the entire capital city fell silent.

Under the gaze of tens of thousands of eyes, on the most ornately decorated high platform, the official in a red robe appeared first, his face solemn. Taking advantage of the special structure that could focus and amplify sound, he solemnly and loudly announced:

"All citizens of the Empire! Welcome the Emperor of the Empire, our great and wise Her Majesty Clautina Augustus!"

The entire audience rose to their feet in unison, the rustling of clothes amplifying into a howling storm, like rice seedlings bent by the wind in an endless field suddenly straightening up. Tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on the platform, air was forced from tens of thousands of lungs, through vocal cords, and through tongues, emanating from tens of thousands of mouths shouting:

"The will of the Empire!!!"

In an instant, a surging passion swept across the land like a wave of fire, and a powerful roar engulfed everything. Countless wills converged and uttered this sound...

There are no lengthy titles, no pretentious embellishments—"Emperor of the Empire" is the most glorious, noble, and powerful title on this land. Everything else seems ridiculous and hypocritical in comparison. The supreme ruler of this country has no need to and disdains to add any other titles to himself, because he controls the most prosperous and powerful country on this land!

No honor is worthy of such reverence, and no power is so awe-inspiring. The shouts of tens of thousands of people at the same time are enough to frighten the cowardly to the point of turning pale, to make the weak and incompetent afraid to face it, and to leave the guilty and weak at a loss.

Clautina slowly rose to her feet and stepped forward, appearing on the platform at the front of the high platform. The moment the emperor's noble purple robe came into view, a wave of cheers surged forth again, leaving no room for any other sound in the world; all that could be heard was the cheers and shouts of the imperial people.

The emperor gently raised his right hand and then pressed it down—the surging sound waves immediately subsided and returned to silence in a very short time. Countless eyes were fixed on the emperor's purple robe, waiting for his words.

"Glorious people of the Empire gathered here! Today we gather here to witness yet another glorious victory! To witness our warriors once again display their will, skill, and bravery, to witness true excellence and power."

The silence continued, but within this silence, there were some discordant disturbances. These came from travelers and guests from other countries, who were all awestruck by the Imperials' terrifying discipline. Under this dreadful pressure and intimidation, they felt as if they were not in the stands of an arena, but rather visiting a strictly disciplined military camp with constant shouts. They dared not utter a single word, only glancing around involuntarily due to some unease and oppression.

"This too is a grand feast! A feast of bravery and glory, and now, I invite you to join me! Help yourselves to the fine wine before you; it will not run dry for the next three days. Do not be stingy with your cheers and applause; give them to the outstanding warriors! Do not restrain yourselves! Enjoy this once-a-year feast; it is the will of the Empire!"

………………

After the emotions finally calmed down, the impatient citizens began to continuously cheer into the arena, looking forward to the appetizer that was about to appear—based on past experience, it was often some kind of bloody animal fighting performance.

On this day, the fierce beasts gathered from all corners of the empire will play their due role, bringing a bloody and joyous feast in their final, dying struggles, only to be pierced by the spears of skilled and courageous warriors.

That's right, the competition hasn't started yet, this is just a performance... and a performance that's assumed to be not too difficult, just to liven up the atmosphere.

After all, even the fiercest beast cannot roam for long in the hands of a strong warrior wielding spears, bows, and arrows. The performer will even deliberately avoid killing the beast with one blow, leaving it room to struggle, so as not to make the performance too boring.

As the announcer loudly declared the start of the performance, sounds echoed from the tall archways surrounding the main arena. Trainers pushed enormous iron cages with their own enclosures to the gates, securing the cages to the steel protrusions on the doors with special latches. After confirming everything was ready, at the command of the supervising official, a specially designed square door in the foot-thick wooden door was hoisted up. Cheers and light from outside streamed into the cages, causing the bloodthirsty beasts to roar with unease.

A pride of strong lions captured from the southern jungles, agile gray wolves from the eastern plains howled, and ferocious leopards brought by Assele gnashed their teeth and sucked blood… These highly aggressive carnivorous beasts had gone three whole days without food. Having conserved their strength, they were now driven mad by hunger. Stimulated by the bright light, they bared their fangs and roared defiantly at any sign of life.

The animal trainers picked up their iron-tipped stunt sticks and skillfully drove the dangerous beasts away, urging those still in their cages to rush into the light and into the arena.

Driven into this wide-open space, the wild beasts vented their anger in a daze. They roared and howled nervously at every living thing around them. The lions spontaneously gathered together, regardless of whether they belonged to a pride or not; their animal instincts drove them to do what would increase their chances of survival. The pack animals began to congregate, while the lone wolves ran towards what appeared to be safer corners. After carving out a small area for themselves, they began to threaten the other animals.

Upon seeing the beasts released, the audience immediately began pointing and whispering – commenting on the differences between the wild animals used in this year's opening performance and last year's, while also hoping for some new changes, rather than just repeating the same old formula every year.

At that moment, as the four archways in the east, west, south, and north slowly opened, the audience, who had already begun to enter, immediately focused their attention. When they saw clearly, they erupted in enthusiastic cheers—sixteen four-horse chariots roared out under the charioteers' helms, their sharp, curved blades gleaming coldly, ready to sever something in the blink of an eye. Gleaming spears and poised arrows were ready to pierce flesh at any moment.

"It's a tank hunting demonstration! Haven't seen one in years? We never expected to be so lucky!"

“That’s right, that’s right! The last time there was a chariot hunting performance was during the reign of Emperor Russ, but it wasn’t as large-scale as it is now. Moreover, there was an accident during the performance. A wheel of a chariot broke off, and the unfortunate man on it was torn to pieces by lions.”

"That's really bad luck... I heard that chariot hunting is more difficult, right? That's why it's so rare."

"That's it! Because the chariot is not easy to maneuver too cumbersome, the performers need to have a higher level of skill... Look, look, it's already started!"

Amidst a burst of enthusiastic cheers, a man wielding a powerful bow on the leading chariot drew his bow and released an arrow. With a single shot, a gray wolf that was running was brought to the ground. The gushing blood soaked its fur, rolled on the ground, and then evenly stained the yellow mud. It soon came to a stop moving.

A leopard, cornered, pounced on the running chariot, only to be pierced in the back by the rider's spear and sent flying like a rag doll.

In an instant, the carefully selected performers displayed their skills and talents, showcasing the process of hunting and fighting with wild beasts in a highly entertaining way. They demonstrated their skills and bravery, which drew waves of cheers. The "appetizer" alone was enough to make many people exclaim with delight. If it weren't for the soldiers maintaining discipline, they might have even crowded to the front of the railing.

This was also a perfect war drill. The chariot drivers maintained perfect teamwork and discipline. Even the lions, who were starving and terrified, could not pose a threat to them. The seemingly clumsy chariots always managed to dodge the lions' counterattacks at just the right moment, allowing the archers and spearmen on board to accurately hit their targets with millimeters' precision, causing one strong and ferocious beast after another to fall in the yellow sand.

The onlookers cheered loudly. Whenever the crazed lions were about to pounce on the warhorses but were tricked or hit by weapons, everyone was amazed by the warriors' superb skills and tacit cooperation. Cheers and applause poured in like waves, overwhelming every performer.

No rider would be foolish enough to get surrounded by a pride of lions. They always cleverly lure these wild beasts, who are on the verge of losing their minds, into isolation and fragmentation of their packs, completing their hunt in a beautiful and efficient way, earning themselves more cheers...

213 Private Banquet (1)

One thrilling duel after another ensued, as blades clashed and rubbed together, producing crisp sounds. Players suppressed their opponents' weapons, sought out weaknesses, broke through enemy lines, and struck resilient shields. This was a contest of skill and courage, wisdom and endurance, perhaps requiring a touch of luck. Under the watchful eyes of countless people and amidst the surging passion, nothing could be hidden. Regardless of status, as long as they stood here with weapons, only their own courage and wisdom could be measured.

Spears pierced the air, swords flew in arcs, arrows pierced the air with the vibration of supple bowstrings, galloping horses neighed, and shouts and battle cries echoed endlessly. Here, all forms of human warfare could be witnessed; the bloodiest and most cruel social activity of humankind reached its zenith in its fullest extent.

The entire arena was swept up in a frenzy. Some, even those parched and starving, forgot to eat, afraid of missing the most exciting moment. They stared wide-eyed, pounding on the armrests until their hands were red and raw, their throats hoarse from shouting, showing no sign of quieting down.

The cheers, rolling like a tidal wave, continued unabated from the blazing morning sun until the sunset painted the sky red. No one wanted to leave. Whenever someone performed exceptionally well, countless flowers would be thrown down from the stands. Cheers, along with fluttering petals, overwhelmed the warriors, propelling them to the pinnacle of glory.

Even after the day's competition ended, the crowd lingered, reluctant to leave. Only when the soldiers began loudly urging them to disperse did they finally scatter through the more than 90 archways, still feeling exhilarated. They gathered their observations for conversation, ready to share them with their neighbors and friends. Many, finally succumbing to thirst and hunger, began to drink wine and water, and eat the food they had bought.

Afterwards, slaves would thoroughly clean the place, and by sunrise the next day, the still-enthusiastic crowd would return and once again fill the huge stands.

Meanwhile, Thesolius had finished his busy day and was now enjoying the emperor's hospitality in the magnificent palace.

………………

The most formal banquets in the empire generally include roast meat and stew. This peculiar custom has been passed down for a long time. Regardless of rank or status, these two types of dishes are almost always present. The only difference is that the ingredients are rarer, the chefs' skills are more unique, and the tableware is more exquisite. Apart from that, there are very few special changes.

But the banquet taking place today on these smooth marble mosaic tiles truly surprised Tersolius…

A thin iron skewer rests on a blazing applewood charcoal. The hard charcoal, which even produces a metallic sound when struck, emits a constant and sustained heat, roasting the long strips of meat until they are golden brown, crispy, and sizzling with oil.

As more oil and spices were sprinkled on, the rich aroma of Assale spices mixed with the scent of oil and meat filled the air, making one's mouth water and eager to taste the juicy, crispy roasted meat—if one didn't even care what kind of meat it was.

Even though it has been skinned, gutted, and meticulously scored, any rational person can still tell at a glance that what is being roasted on an iron skewer is clearly a large snake... and a snake as thick as a normal person's calf, with thick, fatty flesh and a rich aroma, which is being evenly heated by the charcoal fire as the chef turns it.

The cattle and sheep that should normally be on the grill were nowhere to be seen; instead, there was a thick, short snake. Although it did look like it had little bone and a lot of meat, Tersolius was certain that this country had absolutely no tradition of eating snake meat. Snakes here were merely pests, something to be either avoided at all costs or killed outright. If not for the torment of hunger, no one would ever put such a creature in the pot.

Knowing there must be a story behind this snake, Tersolius waited with great interest, watching as the chef used a small silver knife to slice off the delicious, crispy-skinned, and juicy meat from the snake, arranging it on a ceramic plate. After sprinkling it with spice powder, he served it along with slices of bright red fruit and respectfully placed it on the table in front of him.

This was a small, private banquet. The only people present were the Emperor, himself, his brother Natamus and his wife Christina, and Alka, who was invited because she was considered one of his confidants, along with three girls. Therefore, the atmosphere was relaxed and informal; there were no set rules, just eating, drinking, and chatting.

The emperor had long since changed out of his magnificent, imposing, and solemn, but heavy and inconvenient, robes. He now wore a simple red robe and a white outer garment, and sat in the main seat beside him, directing the servants to bring more dishes over and to cool the wine and fruit with ice from the cellar.

"You probably haven't seen this before either, have you?"

Seeing that Tersolius had already put a piece of tender snake meat into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and raised his eyebrows, Clautina knew that he was quite satisfied with the food. She asked him a question, her smile clearly showing off. Tersolius nodded in agreement.

"This is one of the gifts sent by the envoys of the Turlu people. It is said to be the fattest and sweetest of the snakes they raise. They were fed with rabbits filled with honey on the way here to ensure the best taste."

"Vegetable snake? That must be very precious there, otherwise their king wouldn't have dared to send it here."

"That's right, these so-called vegetable snakes are actually extremely rare... If these southerners don't dare to deceive me, these snakes were bred generation after generation by their keepers who served the king. Through countless generations of selection and elimination, most of their fishy smell has been removed. They have become increasingly plump and delicious, even making it difficult for them to crawl, and their reproductive capacity has also been greatly reduced."

"Nowadays, even their king can only enjoy a few each year. I'm afraid even their great nobles can't get their hands on them, and if they even show any such intention, they'll be suspected of treason."

“There should be plenty of food there, so why choose snakes? Raising snakes doesn’t seem easy.” Tersolius picked up another piece of snake meat and put it in his mouth. The crispy outer layer of spices mixed with fat, combined with the tender, juicy snake meat, created a unique and wonderful flavor that spread throughout his mouth, enough to conquer his tongue. He even worried that his interest in other meats might wane. “Although I must admit, the taste of this meat far exceeded my expectations; even the best beef can’t compare.”

"I heard that there was a custom of eating snakes there. It was only 160 years ago that people started to raise them. Before that, they just caught snakes to eat. But this creature is not their main source of meat. They mainly rely on raising goats and pigs. Snakes are just a special food that tastes good."