Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

As expected, the tower and the nearby city walls were captured by Colin and Karila's troops. The progress had met his expectations. The Hols were now terrified. By noon tomorrow at the latest, the Imperial flags would be flying all over the city. By the standards of a siege, their losses were negligible, enough to make any general laugh in his sleep.

He was now considering whether to add fuel to the fire... If the Hols collapsed tonight as he predicted, they would become easy prey for the cavalry on the surrounding roads and fields, and the Hols Kingdom's fighting force would suffer the heaviest blow.

The victorious situation made him smile involuntarily. After a moment's thought, he felt a surge of excitement and stood up to stretch his shoulders—sitting there all day had even bored him; perhaps it was time to loosen up…

"Light all the torches and let the troops take turns resting; it will be dark soon."

With his mood relaxed, he spoke more casually. As darkness fell, the soldiers immediately began to carry out his orders, taking out torches from their bodies to light them.

"Roar!!...Waaaaah!!"

The lead dog among the hunting dogs pacing around him suddenly stopped its wandering. To Thesorius's astonishment, it suddenly turned and barked fiercely at a corner... where there was only darkness and no sound.

The lead dog only growled twice before suppressing its whimper. Then, without a sound, it bent its hind legs, lowered its body, and with a powerful push from its four long, powerful legs, pounced forward, its long jaws full of sharp teeth opening, fiercely tearing forward to bite—

The gleam of a drawn sword flashed within the tent, accompanied by a strange hiss as the lead dog and a bizarre-looking creature grappled in the darkness. Torn fur and blood splattered everywhere, tearing them into a tangled mess in an instant.

The hounds' panicked and ferocious howls and roars exploded inside the tent in an instant, as if something had collapsed there, creating a huge noise. In that instant, Tersolius, with his sword in hand, also noticed the surrounding air currents and the dust kicked up by the heavy trampling of the ground. Without hesitation, he made his move. With a flash of sword light, he thrust upwards and then thrust again, impaling a slender figure directly on the blade. Blood and internal organs flowed out from the cut and onto the ground in an instant.

At the same time, seven or eight strange gusts of wind rushed towards Tersolius, causing his expression to tighten...

rest for a day

As always, I'll take a day off to sort out my thoughts and plan for the future.

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253 Disillusionment (1)

When faced with swords and spears, people often react in various ways. Many are caught off guard, stunned, and fall victim to the attacker's attack. However, some react in an instant, retaliating with even more ruthless and fierce methods, responding with a calm and ruthless will.

Even pierced by a sharp sword, gutted and disemboweled, the sight before one's eyes remains a blurry blur of light and shadow. The stench of entrails and viscous blood flows down the blade to the wrist, finally dripping into the dust beneath one's feet, seeping into the gaps in the armor plates, and a warm current touches the skin of the hand.

The sound of bone rubbing against steel came, and two slender, crab-claw-like things firmly gripped the sharp sword that had pierced his body. Even with his internal organs spilling out, the strange thing in front of him still let out a sharp roar, stretched out the tentacles on its face, and swept towards his face.

Thesolius acted decisively, releasing his grip on the sword hilt and stepping back. In abandoning his weapon, he also dodged the tentacles of the worm-like creatures, causing the mangled, bloody mass to fall to the ground. After struggling desperately for a while, it staggered to its feet, the blood-soaked blade sliding down its lacerated abdomen to the ground.

The crisis was far from over. At the same time, he heard several fierce gusts of wind howling from all directions. Sharp bone blades sliced ​​through the air, making strange noises, and slender yet powerful limbs kicked up dust from the ground.

One directly in front, two to the left, two behind, two to the right... This almost completely blocked his room to dodge. In the blink of an eye, there was no possibility of thinking, only a subconscious, decisive and resolute reaction.

His footsteps pounded forward, as if he were trying to blast a hole in the ground. With a dull thud, Tersolius, clad in full armor, charged forward swiftly, sidestepping and slamming his shoulder into the center of the attacker. He caught the descending bone blade with his right hand, then snapped the arm off like a sugarcane, smashing it into the corner of the tent along with the attacker, crushing a cabinet to pieces.

In the instant he fell, he made sure the sharp bone blade pierced the smooth, tentacle-covered head, and only released his grip when a sticky, warm substance flowed out. He then reached precisely into the darkness, until he felt that familiar outline and grip…

A fierce wind howled, and these attackers were incredibly agile. Like the most nimble pack of wolves, they pounced on him again without pause, their sharp bone blades and venomous teeth attacking him without reservation, completely ignoring the angry shouts of the guards outside and the imposing force of the large armored corps rolling in.

He crouched in the corner, seemingly unarmed. The next instant, he would be dragged into hell by the deadly methods of these bizarre attackers…

………………

A full moon leaped from its scabbard, the clear, water-like curved blade flashing through the air. The first attacker was cleaved in two, falling to the ground with a dull thud. The foul blood, before it could even stain his armor, spilled into the dust. The gleaming silver Asher's scimitar, with a clear metallic hum, wiped away the blood droplets clinging to it until it was spotless and as clean as new.

He knew how terrible damage such a blade could inflict on flesh, making it the perfect feast to welcome these uninvited guests.

A sharp bone blade sliced ​​through his armor, sparks flying. The curved blade, swung upwards, cut into his abdomen, slicing through his internal organs and fat, then splitting the bone in two, emerging from the other side. It severed a twitching limb in the direction of its advance. His wrist precisely gripped the slippery neck, his fingers digging deep into the trachea, close to the bone gaps, pulling it up from the ground, dodging a dying counterattack, slamming it heavily to the ground, and then crushing the stitched-up head with his iron boot.

The hounds growled threateningly. These loyal and brave creatures were well-trained, and even in this crisis, they cooperated with an unspoken understanding, like hunting wild beasts. They tore at and threatened the dangerous creatures in front of them, tearing bits of flesh from their smooth skin. Their barks were sharp and loud, clearly reaching every corner outside.

If it were any other assassin, no matter how fierce and ruthless, they would inevitably be distracted by these hounds at this moment. But these creatures seemed to have been born for Tersolius. They saw nothing else but him, and apart from some instinctive counterattacks, they didn't even focus their attention on the pack of hounds, still rushing forward to meet the sharp blade in his hand.

The dense tentacles, like a swarm of snakes, lunged at his face, but the blade in his hand moved with practiced ease, slicing through three outstretched claws. He then slightly rotated his body, using his left hand to meet the attack. He precisely pierced through the hooks of the tentacles, gripped the opponent's narrow jaw, and used his thick, sturdy armor to block the spider-like claws that kept clawing, holding it up like a shield in front of him.

These terrifying beasts showed no mercy, tearing their companions to shreds in the blink of an eye. He seized the opportunity to swing his blade again, so fast it seemed to defy time. Only a slender claw remained, its blood spurting as it was severed from the shoulder. By this time, his "shield" had been torn to pieces, offering no further protection. In an instant, countless sharp claws, tentacles, and venomous teeth came rushing towards him…

It's like a person sticking their face into a dense thicket, where the oncoming branches would enthusiastically care for every corner of their face. Except now, those branches aren't gentle, soft ones that only scratch the skin; they are vicious claws that tear flesh and break bones, eager to end their target's life.

In the blink of an eye, within a few breaths, nearly half of the attackers had been wiped out, yet he was still forced into a perilous situation—the sky had completely darkened; it was a moonless, cloudy night. It was a darkness so profound that one couldn't see their own hand in front of their face. He could only smell the stench of blood mixed with an indescribable odor. His eyes went blind for a moment; he could only hear the sound of countless limbs tearing at him. Instinctively, he shielded his face with his armor. In an instant, sparks flew from the steel plates of his armor, accompanied by a piercing, ear-piercing scream filled with madness and despair.

A burst of fire suddenly leaped out of the darkness, spreading boundless light and heat in all directions. It then spread rapidly, and the rolling armored vehicles crashed directly into the tent. The bright firelight illuminated every corner of the tent. Following their commander's last order, the soldiers, who had lit torches at top speed, gripped their swords, spears, and halberds, their hands gleaming with cold killing intent and rage, ready to tear apart anything suspicious.

Without any hesitation, even as they were confronted with this twisted thing that no one had ever anticipated, the soldiers immediately raised their spears, gripped their swords, and raised their axes, transforming into a dense jungle of steel that surrounded them. In an instant, spears thrust forth and blades rolled down, leaving behind fragments of flesh and splattered blood. In the blink of an eye, two more soldiers were reduced to fragments by the blades and spears.

Arka charged in with almost frenzied rage. As the captain of the guard and the standard-bearer, bearing such a glorious responsibility, he couldn't imagine what value he would have in living if his lord were to meet with an accident! In the chaos just now, he had even punched down several people blocking his way in order to get here as quickly as possible. Now, he disregarded everything and broke through the formation, barging straight in.

The last monster seemed to sense something. Under everyone's watchful eyes, its color suddenly changed rapidly, turning into something hazy and indistinct in the blink of an eye, trying to hide in the darkness—but this foolish creature didn't realize that after the fierce battle, it was covered in blood, attracting the hunting dogs to bark and charge towards it. Before that, heavy spears had already pierced through! The flesh and blood tore through the bones, causing it to writhe and struggle like a live fish on the spears, but the soldiers pulled the monster off the ground with a burst of strength and slammed it heavily into the formation. Then, swords, spears, axes, and halberds flew up and down, bringing with them flying bits of flesh and sticky entrails.

As Arka helped Tersolius up from the ground, he let out a long sigh of relief, wiped the dirt off his face, and found that the scimitar in his hand was spotless, as clean and bright as a pool of autumn water.

His gaze shifted to the corner of the tent, where there lay another corpse, chopped to pieces by the soldiers… and a lithe hunting dog, its body riddled with wounds, its skin torn and its body barely alive.

Reaching out and pushing Alca aside to indicate that he didn't need help, Tersolius slowly approached his lead dog, reaching out to stroke its head, which had once had beautiful brown-black fur but was now torn to shreds, revealing its stark white bones.

The gleaming eyes, now devoid of eyelids, rolled upwards, gazing at their master. A soft whimper escaped the hound's nose as it gently nuzzled his palm with its bloodied head, its breath coming in shallow gasps, as if lamenting its pain... until its movements slowed and finally ceased, and the battered hound stopped breathing.

Tersolius let out a long sigh and stood up expressionlessly.

"Lady Talina has arrived!"

Amidst loud cheers, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the tent. Tarina, pale and anxious, entered the tattered tent, carrying her medical kit.

"Sir! Are you alright?!"

The expression on Tersolius's face relaxed, and just as he was about to respond, his eyes suddenly widened, and he threw the scimitar in his hand—his target was Talina!

The crescent-shaped blade gleamed, its cold light flashing, and a fierce wind swept towards them. No one could doubt the power of this strike; it would slice the girl in front of them in two as easily as cutting through paper.

In that split second, amidst extreme surprise, time seemed to slow down. Looking into Tersolius's eyes, Tarina suddenly had a thought. She gritted her teeth and didn't move an inch, watching helplessly as the gleaming blade hurtled towards her... Then she felt warm liquid splash onto her back and heard a sharp scream.

The soldiers' armor screeched loudly with each movement, and everyone stared in utter astonishment at the thing whose head had been severed by the scimitar—a razor-sharp blade had trapped a semi-transparent, blurry mass, followed by gushing blood and a final, deathly scream. Only as the body fell to the ground did the blurry color gradually fade. A ghastly, bizarre, seemingly pieced-together monster appeared before them—and before that, the soldiers hadn't even noticed such a thing approaching from behind Talina…

"Release all the military dogs in the camp!"

Tesorius's face was grim as he turned to look at the assembled officers:

"Have the hounds sniff out the bodies and search every inch of them!"

The two soldiers immediately left, and soon, bursts of fierce barking echoed throughout the camp. Large packs of hunting dogs, driven by the soldiers, swarmed out!

Still shaken, Talina rushed to Tersolius and began to examine his face, which was covered in blood.

"I'm fine, doctor, I just got a cut on my forehead."

His face was covered in foul-smelling blood, almost obscuring his vision. Tersolius reached for a cushion on the table next to him and prepared to wipe his face properly.

"Don't move, sir! It might be poisonous!"

Tarina's face had turned pale with anxiety, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her smooth forehead. She opened her old medicine box, which she had always treasured, took out a semi-transparent bottle, uncorked it, and poured the entire bottle directly onto his face.

"It shouldn't be..." Tersolius was halfway through his sentence when he suddenly felt a strong wave of dizziness, as if someone had hit him hard on the back of the head with a wooden stick. He felt the world spinning around him and almost fell to the ground. Talina reached out and supported his shoulders, helping him lie back down.

"It really is poisonous! And highly poisonous at that... Luckily, I have the medicine my teacher gave me... Where is it?!... Where is it? Right, it's in this square!"

Even though she was so panicked that tears welled up in her eyes, Tarina still quickly took out another small box from the trunk. After opening the lid, she pinched off a pinch of powder and carefully sprinkled it on the wound on his forehead. Then she took out a silver knife from her pocket and gently pressed it against his forehead.

A flash of blue light passed by, and the powder melted and seeped into the wound as if it had encountered gold dust in a blazing fire. The bluish-black marks that had originally seeped outwards from here disappeared in the blink of an eye, like ice and snow under the scorching sun, restoring the wound to a whitish-pink color.

As if branded with a hot iron, Tersolius frowned slightly, took a breath, and stood up abruptly.

"My lord! Where are you going? I still need..."

"You won't die, right?"

“That’s right.” Talina nodded. “This is the most precious medicine my teacher left me. I’m no longer in danger.”

"That's good." He reached for his helmet, put it on, and the cheers of the Hols people echoed from the distant city, greatly boosting the morale of the defenders.

"The Hols think they've won... I'll show them that it's a false, pathetic illusion."

254 Disillusionment (2)

The morale of the Holsteins was high, and every soldier cheered spontaneously. They raised their swords, dragged their weary bodies, and, encouraged by the king, nobles, and officers, launched wave after wave of fierce attacks. They raised their swords and spears, roused their spirits, donned armor, and carried shields, surging forward like a never-ending tide on the city walls, on the streets, and wherever the imperial army invaded.

This will was not driven by money, nor by their great yearning for glory and merit, which even led them to dare to challenge the imperial army's heavily fortified defenses... It was more because they believed that victory in this war was assured, that the name that had loomed over everyone like a dark cloud had now vanished, and that they no longer needed to fear, no longer needed to be afraid!

A pack of ferocious lions, if they lose their leader, are destined to panic and waver, unable to stand firm. This is their golden opportunity to turn the tide and push the Imperials out of the city. The pain and wailing that had been repeatedly squeezed and worn down in the mill of war in the past few days seemed to erupt in this instant. All the Hols launched an attack like madmen. They could not even be called brave; they were more like a group of immortal ghosts.

But this situation is destined to be only temporary. After all, they are human beings, made of flesh and blood, flowing with blood, capable of fear, death, and escape... The momentum generated by momentary emotions can easily melt away like ice and snow under the sun if it encounters enough blows...

On the eastern city wall, the Hols, who had come in with great momentum, were met with a crushing defeat.

Although the accuracy of the arrows shot from the darkness was somewhat reduced, their power was not diminished in the slightest. Some of the more reckless Hols were riddled with arrows in the blink of an eye, and these red-eyed men hurriedly raised their shields, their originally menacing aura suddenly diminished.

Immediately following was a dense formation of armored soldiers—the figure at the very front, wielding two spiked battle axes, who had decapitated three people in a single exchange, like a bloodthirsty demon, tore through the first rank of the formation with almost no resistance. Limbs and brains flew everywhere he went, instantly sobering all the excited men up… and causing them to scream in terror.

"It's the Empire's champion! It's their champion warrior!!"

Carila, who was chopping off an opponent's neck, was startled by the sound of a helmet being crushed. She seemed to only now realize that her helmet was adorned with a brass-plated laurel wreath, but she didn't care about that and became even more engrossed in the killing. In the blink of an eye, another group of people were hacked to pieces by her axe.

Like a tiger among sheep, no one dared to face her rage and killing intent. The slave soldiers following behind her pressed forward bravely, quickly tearing and widening the opening she had made, swiftly shattering the formation of these defeated men, letting them know the consequences of provoking a pride of lions!

The Hols surged forward, but their morale plummeted in an instant. Like a flock of frightened goats, they were driven back by the brutal slaughter, shoving and jostling with those behind them. Some, with nowhere to escape, jumped off the city wall in a panic, falling to their deaths on the hard road below. The morale that had just been roused immediately began to crumble again.

But there were just too many people... A considerable portion of the Hols army had gathered in this city, and the Wilderness was filled with dark green cloaks and gleaming iron helmets. Even though Karila and her men were incredibly brave, they were still caught in the dense crowd. Everywhere were excited Hols, and the soldiers, swept up in this hopeful mood of victory, were endless and could not be broken by short-term casualties.

Or rather, they needed a clearer signal, a signal that would drive them to despair and rob them of all will to resist... Until then, their confidence would last for quite some time, and the fact that the Chengwai Empire's military camp had remained inactive for a long time only fueled their confidence, making them even more convinced of it.

For a time, thanks to their overwhelming numerical advantage and high morale, the Holsian army actually managed to shake the bewildered Imperial garrison. Despite the officers' loud shouts and efforts to maintain order and discipline, they could not stop the soldiers from becoming increasingly confused. Many turned to look, and what the Holsian were shouting seemed to take root in their hearts like seeds, causing panic among many.

Although the Imperial soldiers showed no signs of collapsing thanks to the discipline and willpower accumulated through years of training, and the defensive line, though seemingly precarious, was remarkably resilient and showed no signs of being breached... if the situation continued like this, it was foreseeable that, in order to prevent being besieged by the Hols on the city walls, the Imperial troops still holding out would likely be withdrawn, and they would lose the opportunity to capture the city.

This continued until two long, resounding horn calls rang out, like the roar of a bull in mythology, tearing a rift in the dark night sky, and making the whole world tremble at the sound of the horns.

The chaotic battlefield suddenly fell silent, until a bewildered ordinary count shook off the blood from his sword, looked up and searched around, then froze completely...

Like a frog caught in a bright light, a sheep being stared at by a hungry wolf, or a farmer meeting the gaze of a lion in the bushes—it was an extreme surprise, an extreme shock, an extreme panic, an emotion as if a sharp sword had pierced his heart from behind. It was so complex that he stood there dumbfounded, unable to utter a word.

Soon, the other confused Holsians were no longer confused—for they all saw a dark and magnificent double-headed eagle banner, its golden tassels and golden double-headed eagle staff fluttering in the darkness and above the firelight…

An absolute silence suddenly began to spread, as if every Holstein had had their throat slit with a dagger. Many were even in a daze, completely unable to comprehend the current situation... until a tall figure draped in a white lion cloak and wearing a winged helmet appeared on the city wall, quickly eliciting cheers that nearly shook the city to its core. Then, a wave of despair and frustration spread like wildfire...

Tersolius is still alive! The intelligence was wrong!

The morale that was just high is now as low as it was, and there is no way to salvage it. The collapse of morale is like a boulder rolling down a mountain, unstoppable and spreading rapidly.

A hundred-man squad on the left-hand side suddenly collapsed, and the soldiers scattered and fled. Even officers like the centurion could not control them. After making a desperate effort, he simply turned around and ran away with them.

Immediately following was the rout of thousands upon thousands—the soldiers, realizing they had been deceived, had no will to fight. Countless people were trampled to the ground in that instant, countless swords were wielded against their own kind, and countless nobles and officers were dragged into the vortex.

The scene before us can be aptly described in one word—utter defeat.

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

"Pursue them immediately! Don't give the Hols a chance to recover! Proceed according to Plan Three!"

The generals responded with a thunderous roar, and countless horns immediately sounded outside the city. The thunderous sound of hooves, like a storm, began to roll across the wilderness. Countless torches dispelled the darkness that shrouded the world, illuminating the footsteps of countless imperial soldiers as they marched forward, swaying with their earth-shaking cheers.

Seeing Karila and Colin hurrying towards him from afar, and even discerning the joy and relief on their blood-stained faces, Tersolius let out a deep breath. Then, a dizzying sensation struck him, and he fell straight backward, only to be caught by Alka, who was prepared.

In his final moments before losing consciousness, he heard a distant, heart-wrenching wail followed by earth-shaking cheers…

255 This concludes the first part (1)

The magnificent building, constructed of brass and marble, was once the residence of the city's most distinguished individuals, but now it stands teeming with imperial soldiers. Everywhere, heavily armored warriors stand ready, their wary eyes scanning every corner; not even a stray dog ​​is permitted to roam here.

A large, grey-white bird flapped its wings as it flew across the smoke-filled sky. The smell of blood and death filled the air. Corpses in the city were being collected by imperial soldiers dressed in red. Valuable armor and weapons were gathered up, while the remaining bodies were buried in large pits with large amounts of lime sprinkled in as disinfectant. The pits were then dispersed in areas far from the city and away from farmland to prevent the spread of plague.

This work took a long time, and although the city still looked like it was littered with corpses, this was the result after a morning of clearing. Many of the corpses were not even created by the blades of the Imperial army, but by the bloodshed caused by the panicked Hols jostling, trampling, slashing and stabbing each other.

In their desperate attempt to escape the imperial army and from Tersolius, they were willing to do almost anything. Nobles and officers of the past, once of high status and great authority, were now met with merciless hacking and slashing if they stood in their way. Anyone who blocked their escape route was ruthlessly stabbed in the abdomen with swords or their helmets smashed with axes.

If they had followed Tersolius's initial plan—to systematically destroy the city's defenses, drain the Holsteins' blood, and cause their morale to collapse, rendering them utterly demoralized—perhaps not so many would have died before the city fell. But their assassination plot failed. The soldiers' morale, initially high, was dealt a devastating blow. They witnessed Tersolius's figure and his infamous double-headed eagle banner... causing their previously high spirits to crumble like a punctured balloon. In this dramatic fall from grace, they lost all will to resist, all organization, and only knew how to flee for their lives.

That chaotic and disorderly state was a terrifying vortex, throwing everyone in and churning them to dust. Some were even crushed alive against the street walls, while many more were trampled and ravaged by countless feet, ultimately becoming sacks of flesh encased in chainmail, filled with rotting entrails and blood. Countless others perished under the blows of swords and spears. Before the imperial army even launched its attack, they had already suffered heavy losses.

The officers and nobles gathered in the city also suffered more than half their casualties. The rest fled through the south gate of the city, where the light cavalry that followed easily crushed the group of the remnants and pursued them relentlessly, beheading more and more of them. The remaining troops scattered and fled, and their dead bodies could be seen everywhere on the plains outside.

However, due to the darkness, the cavalry's pursuit was not successful. In addition, reinforcements were sent from the cities behind, so the spoils were not as plentiful as expected. A considerable number of the remaining troops managed to escape, and there was still no news of the Hols king being captured. It can be basically confirmed that His Majesty Julius and several nobles successfully escaped.

The billowing black smoke stained the large bird's wings, causing the bird to tilt its tail feathers and veer to the right, flying over the heads of soldiers marching through the city streets, past gleaming spears and neighing warhorses, until it flew towards the tallest and most magnificent building in the city, preparing to land on its gilded spire.

The longbow, polished with tree lacquer, was slowly drawn back. A light arrow, ideal for long-range shots, unfurled its feathers in the sunlight, its sharp tip protruding. It retracted all the way to the junction of the leather guard and the bow handle, paused briefly, and then, as the bowstring was gently released, the arrow slithered through the air like a snake. Then, it resolutely swept towards its target, easily parting the feathers, piercing warm flesh and throbbing internal organs, and emerging from behind.

She didn't look at the large bird that had fallen to the ground again. If nothing unexpected happened, it would probably be picked up by some resident or soldier chasing after her and used to make soup. Her only responsibility was to make any flying creatures that approached the area fall to the ground to prevent some evil witchcraft from reaching this place through such creatures.

The security here rivals even that of the imperial palace. Every passageway and corridor is lined with fully armed soldiers. All servants have been driven out and imprisoned, tasked with moving supplies. Those serving tea and water are all trusted guards; they cannot tolerate any unidentified individuals approaching their general or commander. Yesterday's events were enough to fill them with shame and anger.

In addition, there are a large number of military dogs roaming around. These loyal and brave creatures will detect anything amiss, especially to prevent the strange creature from yesterday that could blend into the shadows and environment from infiltrating again.

Almost everyone was still shaken… Colin, pale-faced, rubbed her temples awkwardly. The pain in her wrist seemed to remind her of her lapse in composure yesterday—in the moment she saw Tersolius fall, she barely realized what she had done. She only knew that by the time she came to her senses, she had stumbled to him, then incoherently bombarded everyone she could grab with incoherent questions, afterwards unable to recall what she had actually asked.