Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The long hours of fighting in armor had left them all panting heavily. Sweat soaked through their inner linings, and if it weren't for the cool autumn weather, some of them would probably have already given up and started taking off their helmets. But now they were just feeling a bit hot and would recover after a short rest.

Despite their physical exhaustion, everyone was still in high spirits, cheering for this hard-won victory... Although it only lasted for a very short time, it was enough to uplift everyone's spirits.

This is not only because winning the competition with my comrades demonstrated my strength, but also because this victory has a substantial reward... The winning team can each get an extra glass of rare ale at dinner tonight - a freshly poured, frothy, and refreshing ale from the cool basement.

Although there was alcohol available, it was rationed and limited. In the disciplined army, extra portions were extremely rare, causing great suffering to many alcoholics. Some audacious and quick-witted individuals would even save their own portion and sell it to comrades who were eager for alcohol, earning themselves a little extra money.

Although this kind of thing is not explicitly prohibited, if you get caught doing it, you'll definitely get a scolding.

Their opponents were somewhat dejected, mainly because of the blow this defeat dealt them—they were all proud and strong young men, none of whom wanted to admit they were inferior to others, and each of them was determined to prove it.

After the cheers, they would then face the next training. Being a soldier in the elite legion was not easy; they spent a large part of their day training, during which time they were well-fed and well-hydrated to ensure they had healthy and strong bodies so they could become the empire's most elite and powerful soldiers in the future.

They were trained by elite veterans from the legion. In the final period before joining the great battle, their training became increasingly arduous and demanding, leaving each of them feeling like they were in heaven.

Seeing the training instructor holding that parchment book again, everyone felt a chill run down their spines, wondering with some unease what new things they would be learning next…

231 Woodworms (2)

Two long military knives clashed against each other, sparks flying from the hard steel. The blades did not separate immediately upon contact. In an instant, one of them pressed down with the blade near the handguard, controlling the opponent's center line and suppressing the weapon from the side. With a piercing sound of metal scraping against metal, the sharp blade of the military knife thrust straight along the opponent's weapon, stopping the sharp tip on the sturdy plate of the chest armor.

"Did you all see that clearly? We must take advantage of the moment the opponent launches an attack to simultaneously execute our defense and counterattack..."

The seasoned veterans of the legion are practicing various unique offensive, defensive, and counter-attacking techniques with these greenhorns. These precious techniques were honed on the brutal battlefield, honed through the exchange of life and blood, and are the most concise and effective, without any superfluous elements.

These valuable experiences are often what allow people to survive on the battlefield. They are invaluable to any soldier. Unless they have a life-or-death bond with someone in the same hundred-man squad, few people would take the initiative to pass on the skills they have summarized to others in the army.

But now, the situation has changed dramatically...

While the veterans were diligently teaching these greenhorns, they were also learning themselves. Many of the things were things that even these battle-hardened elite soldiers had never heard of before. Although they were in the same legion, under the strict discipline, their social relationships were often limited to their own thousand-man squads, and it was difficult for them to communicate with other units.

Some of them hadn't even mastered it themselves, yet they were diligently studying and practicing on the sidelines. In elite units, foolish soldiers were rare; they rarely survived their first engagement. Everyone understood the importance of these things—they were the capital for meritorious service and the foundation upon which these soldiers depended for their livelihood.

For a time, the vast military camps stretching for dozens of miles were filled with such bustling activity. On the eve of the war, the empire's soldiers were racing against time to hone their martial skills, just like sharpening their longswords before a duel, making the sharp blades gleam coldly and capable of cutting hair with a single blow.

Sharp arrows shot from powerful crossbows and heavy bows, turning into a deadly rain of iron that riddled the distant targets with holes.

A galloping steed, carrying a skilled rider, roared in. A dense forest of spears plowed through the ground, leaving only scattered debris. Swords, iron staffs, and chain hammers, whistling past, easily tore apart the wooden targets with the force of the horses' impact.

The steel wall formed by heavy infantry was indestructible. Every step they took and every command they gave was like a rumbling thunderclap across the ground, making people tremble with fear, eager to leave first, and afraid to face their sharp edge.

The light cavalrymen's cloaks fluttered wildly in the air, moving with lightning speed, occasionally scattering arrows like raindrops, swiftly traversing the plains like a long red serpent.

…………

Amidst this cacophony, the splendidly dressed Assele delegation arrived at the center of Tersolius's army. Their silk robes, embroidered with intricate patterns and adorned with gold and silver, their hats inlaid with jewels and precious metals, and their boots embroidered with gold thread depicting flowers of the four seasons, created a dazzling spectacle of opulent jewels. One might suspect they were not an official Assele delegation, but rather a group of wealthy merchants of unknown origin.

The massive military camp was filled with the sounds of battle and the strict discipline of commands. Even the most arrogant and reckless individuals would learn to restrain their tempers here, to be respectful and yielding amidst the countless armored warriors, swords, spears, and lances, and to slow their pace under the banners that resembled a red cloud.

Moreover, whether intentionally or not, the delegation's carriages, guided by officers, would always pass through densely packed military camps, with gleaming swords and spears grazing the carriages, as if these fierce soldiers would swarm forward at any moment and tear the carriages and their occupants to pieces...

The members of the Shituan group also became increasingly silent. They had been discussing their next plans in hushed tones, but now they simply kept quiet, looking at the elite soldiers with serious expressions, their faces growing increasingly grim.

The leader of the delegation, an old man with a white beard named Asel, already had a bad feeling—he could almost predict that he was destined to return empty-handed this time.

Just by looking at this vast and sprawling military camp, they could tell the empire's determination this time... Such a massive military force had been mobilized in such a short time, preparing for battle and accumulating supplies, it was definitely not for some petty gains; they were destined to make a killing, and they would make the most of it...

The servants who greeted them were so courteous that anyone would feel right at home. However, everyone in the group looked worried and absent-minded. When they got off the carriage, the elderly man at the head of the group even slipped and almost fell headfirst. Luckily, a servant caught him. Otherwise, such a fall would have left him either dead or disabled.

After thanking the servant with a gentle expression, the elegantly dressed old man stretched his stiff back and stood firmly on the rammed earth.

It hadn't rained for the past two days, so the ground in the military camp was dry and hard, like solid stone slabs underfoot, enough for heavy horse-drawn carriages to pass through. Their camp was heavily guarded, with elite soldiers in full armor everywhere, watching over every corner. Everywhere you looked, there were gleaming iron armor and spears, and everyone was as silent as a statue.

Once the delegation members were ready, a tall, imposing figure approached them with the clatter of armor plates and crisply performed the Imperial military salute.

"I am Lord Tersolius's standard-bearer. Please follow me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned around abruptly. After seeing that the others were ready, he began to stride forward, each step covering an extremely long distance. He walked like a lion through the jungle, crushing and pushing down the small bushes and weeds.

The members of the delegation were somewhat unaccustomed to the other party's austere and cold attitude, but led by the old man, they followed him and tried their best to maintain their dignity and solemnity so as not to tarnish the Shah's glory.

The carriages that remained in place were guarded by their guards. These elite guards, covered in gleaming golden scale armor, wearing brass plate helmets, and with their faces firmly concealed by chainmail masks, revealing only their eye sockets, were the most reliable and powerful guardians, responsible for protecting the Shah's palace and city. This mission was generously assigned to them by the esteemed Shah, who was tasked with protecting the safety of his most trusted friends and physicians...

Once everyone had gone, the place fell into complete silence. Whether it was the imperial legion soldiers or Asel's Shah guards, they were all as silent as statues. However, this silence was like the rolling black clouds in the sky, carrying a strong sense of oppression and coldness, making it hard to breathe.

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

The old man was quite impressed by his first meeting with Tersolius, a renowned and esteemed figure in the empire…

The residence of a high-ranking and prestigious figure in the empire was merely a simple and unpretentious barracks. Forget about ornate decorations, comfortable carpets, sturdy tables and chairs, and a large bed—this house was just an ordinary wooden hut built from cedar branches. Although sturdy, it was extremely crude, and the bark on the timber used for construction had not even been scraped off. It was more like a hut for hunters to rest during their hunts, and it was completely unworthy of the noble status of a governor.

Although the barracks were indeed spacious enough, and the windows were ingeniously designed, making the place feel bright and airy, the overly simple and rough interior still failed to make it seem grand. Yet all the members of the delegation remained as reserved as if they were standing in the golden palace of the imperial emperor... The reason for this was the figure sitting in the high central position.

The tall Tersolius sat in a high-backed chair, beneath which was a platform made of logs, separated from the ground. On both sides stood densely packed silent armored soldiers, these cavalrymen who had fought alongside their general through countless battles and seas of corpses, now silently observing the guests from Asel.

"Please sit down. Guests who have come from afar. Due to limited resources in the army, His Majesty will soon learn of your arrival. Tomorrow I will arrange for someone to escort you to the capital."

The old man, whose yellow headscarf was adorned with gold pins and whose face, though wrinkled, appeared smooth and clean, exchanged greetings with Teresolius with a humble smile.

“I have long admired your name, Lord Tesolius. I am Ahmed Qasan Adullah Chat, a lowly physician under the command of the esteemed Shah. Please just call me Ahmed. I am truly ashamed to have taken on such an important responsibility.”

Tersolius narrowed his eyes slightly, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly chuckled a few times. His voice was full of energy, like the roar of some kind of beast, which invigorated everyone.

Seeing that the other party did not respond, and despite this rude treatment, the old man still wore a humble smile and waited patiently for Tersolius to finish laughing.

"Lord Ahmed, sometimes excessive modesty can seem odd... Or do you think I'm so ignorant that I don't even recognize Aselshah's most trusted friend and personal healer? Do you really think you're some mediocre person?"

The old man shook his head with a smile and a helpless expression.

“How dare a lowly person like myself become complacent after being fortunate enough to gain the Shah’s favor? There are countless people like me in the vast land of Ashal, so it is not surprising.”

Thesolius sat up straight and leaned forward slightly:

"As the leader of the entire Acer medical system, is it really 'unsurprising' that someone of your caliber is so accomplished? You are a respectable elder and a learned person who should be treated with respect wherever you are."

“Please sit down, please sit down. I am happy to talk to you. There is no need to be so formal here… Alka, please step aside. I have something to say to these guests.”

The cavalrymen silently left the barracks, most of them quickly departing, leaving only four men standing at the door to guard the place firmly.

The afternoon sunlight had softened considerably, shining brightly through the window and allowing Attorney Teso to clearly see the old man in front of him.

Just like everyone who gets older, wrinkles and age spots inevitably appear after the skin loses elasticity and becomes loose. These are signs of aging and the passing of life, which no one can avoid.

Although the old man in front of me also had wrinkles, his face was extremely clean. His light brown skin and thick, white beard were carefully groomed. His clothes smelled of spices, and his deep-set eyes were bright and full of energy, revealing a firm and steady vitality. If you only looked at his eyes, you might even mistake him for a strong man in his forties or fifties.

"I believe Mr. Ahmed, you've come here for more than just to see the sights of other countries. Perhaps I can find out your purpose?"

The servants had already served fruit and chilled wine, placing them on the low table to the left of each guest. The table, with its four legs, was narrow and could only hold one large plate, which contained the finest dried fruit, candied fruit, and fresh fruit.

The old man casually picked up an oval-shaped fruit, about the thickness of a finger and half a finger's length, from the plate, tore open the fibrous flesh with his fingernail, pulled out the needle-like pit, and then put the sweet flesh into his mouth to chew.

"Of course... to be honest, Lord Tesolius, I not only bring the Shah's greetings, but also a request from the King of the Hols, our northern neighbors—a request for peace."

"We all know that the state of war between the Empire and the Kingdom of Hols has not yet ended. After the brief truce, it is only natural that the Empire is preparing to avenge its previous defeat..."

Thesolius listened quietly, his face expressionless, not even seeming to be thinking, as if he were simply listening to an interesting story.

The old man, without changing his expression, continued speaking his prepared words, while taking a sip of clear wine to wash away the lingering sweetness of the dates in his mouth:

“But war is destined to bring destruction and death, turning men into bones and mud in the ground, women into slaves and servants, and children into orphans and food for wild dogs… If possible, neither the Shah nor King Hols would want to see war break out again, which is why I am here.”

"In summary, King Hols has realized the power of the empire and knows that he has provoked an enemy he cannot defeat, so he wants to request peace... To this end, His Majesty the King is willing to offer four cities in the north of the kingdom and a large area of ​​land as a sign of his sincerity in seeking peace."

"If His Majesty, the Emperor of the Empire, is willing to agree to this proposal, then this terrible war can be stopped before it even begins, this land will no longer suffer the ravages of war, and the Empire can gain enough benefits without losing a single soldier..."

232 Woodworms (3)

The old man's voice was steady and powerful, his pronunciation clear, and every word was as clear as if it had been carved from stone and fallen to the ground. This calm and confident attitude itself was very persuasive and made people feel that he was reliable.

Without any embellishment or pretense, it simply lays out the benefits you can gain and the costs of continuing things, clearly states its demands, points out the current situation, and thus achieves its initial goal.

Despite being fully aware of the Empire's resolve and knowing that his efforts were likely futile, the old man still did his utmost to utilize his accumulated experience and wisdom, attempting to reverse the current situation with a calm and composed attitude.

"This is why His Majesty the Shah sent me here. We sincerely hope that His Majesty the Wise Emperor will accept the proposal for peace."

The old man nodded slightly to Tersolius, indicating that he had said everything that needed to be said.

Thesolius silently tapped the cedarwood armrest of his chair with his fingers, thoughtfully resting his chin on his hand. After a long while, he suddenly smiled slightly and looked at the silent old man:

“Wise elder, I have a question for you.”

"Please ask, Your Excellency, I will answer to the best of my knowledge."

Thesolius nodded slightly, then calmly began to speak:

"If there is a ferocious and cunning beast that constantly steals the cattle and sheep of the shepherds, and even covets the flesh and blood of the shepherds, it is ambitious and never satisfied. Moreover, relying on the complex and lush forests, it can always escape the shepherds' pursuit and harass them from time to time, causing them great suffering."

"But one day, the shepherd seized an opportunity and cut down the dense forest with his axe. The pest knew that it no longer had a means to continue its harm and that it would die in an instant. It became frightened and begged its neighbor to pass on a message to the shepherd... saying that it was willing to offer its own fresh meat as a gift of atonement and ask the shepherd for peace."

"If you were that shepherd, would you kill such an ambitious and dangerous beast, or let it roam free?"

The old man sighed slowly, his brow relaxing.

"So, sir, you intend to kill him?"

Thesolius picked up the wine glass beside him, which contained heated wine that would warm his entire body as if he were drinking a mouthful of fire.

"Whether to wage war or make peace is naturally up to His Majesty the Emperor and the Senate to decide... but I must tell you, Your Excellency, that it is not just a few people who desire this war, nor was this war 'initiated'..."

"The people of the Empire, the soldiers of the Empire, the legions of the Empire, the elders and generals of the Empire, and even the Emperor of the Empire—every member of this nation yearns for war. We are not prepared to tolerate such a threat continuing to exist, not prepared to give the enemy any more chance to breathe and flourish, not prepared to allow a new threat to continue to grow. This is the will of the Empire, this is the will of the Empire."

"I have heard a saying that goes, 'The greatest respect for the enemy is to wipe them out completely.' I now pass that on to you. Until you and our Emperor reach a peace agreement, I will not stop preparing for war. Our soldiers will sharpen their swords, repair their armor, and feed their warhorses, ready to trample our enemies."

“Once permission is granted, I will take the cities and lands of the Hols with my legion, so there is no need for His Majesty the King to send them.”

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

As the sun set, the soldiers of the legion, having finished a day of training, were heading back to their barracks. They had just eaten dinner in the mess hall, and some of them even had a few extra glasses of chilled ale. Now, they were returning to their quarters in an orderly fashion.

As the departing delegation watched this scene unfold, the massive number of elite soldiers coalescing into a rolling torrent as they returned to their camps, the clatter of armor echoing like waves crashing against the shore, the metallic clang pressing against their faces.

The superior weaponry and strict discipline of the Imperial soldiers alerted the guards around the carriage. These warriors, trained from childhood, were the most powerful force in all of Asel. They were absolutely loyal and never betrayed anyone. No one in the entire Sand Kingdom dared to oppose them. Even the esteemed Shah had to carefully cultivate these elite warriors to ensure his rightful throne.

A clear, resonant voice came from the side, causing the members of the delegation to instinctively focus their attention in that direction. Then they saw a girl dressed in a red military uniform with boots on her feet, a belt around her waist, and dressed neatly and cleanly from head to toe.

For a moment, some even doubted their own eyes... How could there be a woman in the army, especially in the Empire's army? How could a woman appear?

Moreover, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that this woman is even wearing an imperial military uniform, with a long, standard-issue military sword hanging at her waist—clearly dressed as a soldier…

The crowd quickly realized that the woman was an officer in the Imperial Army, which made them even more bewildered—even if women appeared in the army, they were mostly washerwomen or prostitutes; to have a woman join the army and fight with swords was simply unheard of…

One of the young men in the group stared blankly and muttered to himself:

"Does the Imperial general really send women to the battlefield... or is this...?"

Before the man could utter his utterly foolish words, the old man turned around and gave him a calm look, making him swallow all his words back. It was as if a powerful hand had grabbed his throat, and his face turned deathly pale.

"Young people are always more forgiving when they make mistakes, but not all mistakes can be forgiven. Just for what you were about to say, your tongue should be ripped out."

The words were still calm and unhurried, sounding like an elderly neighbor asking if he had eaten lunch. But the young man was already sweating profusely, as if a venomous rattlesnake had crawled onto his neck, and his knees buckled, about to collapse to his knees.

A withered hand with loose, dry skin gripped his shoulder, exerting a terrifying force like a tightly clenched iron clamp, which helped the young man, who should have collapsed to the ground, regain his footing.

“If you have any basic sense, you should realize why a woman would be in the army, and that lady has already heard what you said…”

As soon as he finished speaking, the young member of the Asler delegation subconsciously looked to the side. The woman also happened to turn her head to look in their direction, and then... it was as if, in the cold winter, water mixed with ice was poured down the back of his neck, a chilling sensation spread from his spine.

It was like meeting the gaze of a lion at extremely close range; that cruel and cold gaze was like a sharp blade, peeling away layer after layer of flesh and blood, revealing the bones and internal organs at the very bottom.

What terrifying eyes... Just one glance from them makes your legs go weak and your teeth chatter...

The young mission members dared not say anything more and bowed their heads deeply. The old man did not reprimand them further, but simply turned around and steadily boarded his own carriage. Led by his servant, the mission's convoy slowly left the central camp.

"Young people these days are becoming increasingly useless..."

A faint sigh came from the old man's carriage, but few people were destined to hear it.

-----------------------

The straw-lined box was gently opened, and the simple-faced man's face lit up with joy. He took out a gleaming metal ingot from inside, tapped it gently in his hand, and nodded repeatedly as he listened to the clear and melodious sound.

"That's right, it's steel ingots from the Central Mine. Weapons made from it are sharp enough to cut through scabbards!"

The disheveled craftsman picked up a small black leather cap from the side and put it on his head, binding every strand of his hair inside the thickened brim to prevent it from catching fire during his work.

The apron she was wearing was also made of thick leather. Because it had been used for so long, it was covered with grease and had turned dark black. Due to the user's habits, there were even more wrinkles in some places.

The furnace next to it was already shining brightly, and the temperature at its center was enough to melt steel; it was the perfect time to show off one's skills.

Several of the best-quality steel ingots are selected from a pile of high-quality steel ingots. After repeated inspections to ensure there are no defects, they are sent into the furnace. When the temperature is suitable, they are clamped on an anvil with long-handled iron tongs and hammered hard to initially fuse them into a single piece.

After the temperature drops, the steel ingot is immediately returned to the furnace to be heated, so that it is kept at a temperature sufficient for fusion. Then, a diamond chisel is used to split the steel ingot in half from the middle, leaving only a thin layer without breaking it completely. While the steel is at its hottest and softest, it is folded together and hammered to fuse.

The unique layering inside the steel begins to form at this moment. Through a series of exquisite techniques such as twisting, folding, and interlocking, the texture of the steel can be precisely controlled. This is a masterpiece that only a true master with a deep understanding and mastery of metal can achieve.