Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Her deputy, Yelia, was pale. This usually shrewd and capable girl was now trembling uncontrollably, terrified by the horrific scene she had witnessed. She even stood there dumbfounded when Tarina ordered her to start working.

Tarina reached out and patted her shoulder with some concern. This seemed to trigger something, and the assistant's face turned pale. She let out a scream and took a step back.

After screaming, the girl finally came to her senses and stammered as she asked the person she respected most:

"My lord, what's going on? This person's nerves have been stretched out, turning into... vomiting!"

Tarina patted the girl's shoulder with a hint of helplessness, and finally sighed:

"If you can't stand it, you can leave first. I should be able to handle it by myself... This situation is indeed a bit special..."

Perhaps out of some kind of morbid humor, or perhaps simply to add a little fun to her work, even Tarina felt a pang of pity for the scene left behind by the interrogation of the Brazilian Saiyaros, let alone her assistant, whose experience was far less than her own.

"It's alright, sir..."

After gagging twice, the assistant, whose face was pale, took a few deep breaths and surprisingly regained some composure. Although fear and disgust still lingered in her eyes, she deftly opened the box she was carrying and took out the necessary tools, medicines, and consumables.

“I am also a doctor trained by you, how can I be scared by something like this? Besides, it would be very tiring for you to do it all by yourself. The two of us can work faster…”

The sinner, strapped to the rack, let out a groan, the groan emanating from it making Talina swiftly pull out her silver dagger and press it against the other's wrist—if this place, where the bone structure and tendons were clearly visible, could be called a "flower on the wrist."

As the azure light flashed, the ominous trembling of death ceased instantly, which meant that their time was running out. If they didn't want this important source of intelligence to die like this, they had to use more effective methods.

"Let's begin then, let's light these sleeping tobaccos here first..."

----------

Children from all over the world almost always develop a kind of instinctive play as they grow older—generally called chasing and roughhousing, which can happen anytime, anywhere, with an unpredictable number of participants and ages.

Sometimes, the trigger for a game is simply a childish and laughable provocation, or a trivial misunderstanding in conversation, which adults often dismiss with a tacit chase. And children running fast are generally unlikely to notice the road conditions…

A child rushing out from a street corner and a speeding carriage were about to collide horribly. The coachman's shocked shouts and the child's stunned expression seemed to foreshadow the inevitable tragedy. In the next instant, blood and flesh flew everywhere, and a young life would pay a terrible price for its recklessness and ignorance.

The carriage sped past in a flash, but there was no blood on the ground. The coachman, still shaken, stopped the carriage, then breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling genuinely fortunate.

A tall figure appeared at the spot where the collision had just occurred. His ominous black robe was embroidered with gold and silver threads, his face was covered in scratches on the iron surface, and his deerskin gloves had sharp steel finger guards... In his arms, he was holding a boy whose expression was still blank and whose face was covered in dust.

This scene has a breathtaking tension, like an eagle's talons seizing a young rabbit. The contrast between the tall and the small, the cold and domineering and the innocent and naive, is enough to make people's eyes pop.

The coachman, who was about to come over to thank him, suddenly stopped. Seeing the man's distinctive black robe and his face turning red and pale, he ultimately didn't dare to approach. He simply nodded from afar and returned to his carriage to drive away.

The boy's companion was also catching up from the other side, but he seemed to be much slower than his friend. Because of the warden's ominous appearance, he dared not approach and stood at a distance.

The rescued boy seemed to only now realize what had happened. Overwhelmed by fear and panic, his lips trembled, and he was about to cry…

"Don't cry."

As if his mouth had been pinched shut, the boy immediately stopped crying, even suppressing the gasps from his nose. Brazilian Saiyaros nodded in satisfaction, then placed the boy on the ground from his arms.

"Go home and let your father or mother give you a good beating, beat you until you're terrified. Remember, you're never allowed to chase each other like that in the street again, understand?"

The boy sniffed.

"If you don't do this..." The scratched iron face pressed against the boy's face, and a sinister voice came from below:

"I'm coming to find you tonight...!"

………………

Watching the two little brats run away crying, the warden let out a smug laugh, lightly patted the dust off his clothes, and then turned to walk towards the tall horse tied to a withered tree nearby.

This is an extremely valuable Thoroughbred Arthur, with a coat as smooth as silk and as bright as cinnabar, snow-white hooves, and a tuft of black mane on its forehead, making it quite distinctive.

He mounted his horse and continued leisurely along the road, seemingly without any impatience. He didn't even stop the horse from stretching its neck to nibble on the leaves of the roadside bushes, making one wonder if he intended to let the horse take him to the ends of the earth without any intention of controlling the direction.

He rode forward for a while, then suddenly pulled on the reins, stopping the horse which hadn't gone more than a few hundred meters. He then turned to look at the buildings beside him.

"Maybe I should have stayed outside a little longer..."

271 Harvest, Result (3)

This was a near-perfect treatment—the patient was successfully brought back from the brink of death, completely out of danger, and his injuries were much better than before. All the wounds on his body were properly treated, and with proper care, it would be difficult for him to die.

But the patient certainly wouldn't feel the slightest bit grateful. On the contrary, if his mouth weren't gagged, he would have used the most vicious words and poured out the most vulgar curses, dumping his dark and wicked emotions into every corner of this place.

Despair and unbelievable madness had torn his sanity apart, and even if he wanted to struggle desperately, he couldn't now—his limbs had been amputated, leaving only short sections wrapped in breathable, hemostatic gauze. The pain was barely perceptible due to the medication, like being poked with a sharp piece of wood through a boot.

In addition, all the wounds, big and small, all over his body were stitched up with meticulous care, even restoring his strength to the point where he could struggle slightly—of course, if he had a choice, he would rather have been tortured to death than wake up to find himself in this terrible state!

As he stammered and twisted, little did he know that an even more terrible fate was about to befall him...

A peaceful conversation drifted down the corridor outside, ending with a hearty laugh. A moment later, the sound of steel-toed boots pounding the ground reached the prison. The steel cell door was gently pushed open, revealing a scratched iron sheet before him.

Like swallowing a red-hot coal, even with his limbs severed, the sinner began to struggle desperately, leaping and bounding with the vitality of a carp just out of the water. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes due to extreme despair and fear.

"Ah, you look great..."

Brazilian Saiyaros walked in naturally, then turned around and gently closed the iron cell door. The clanging of steel and stone pierced the sinner's ears like swords, making him shudder and fall silent.

"I have a few more questions I'd like to ask you. I'm sure you'll have some free time, right?"

The sinner's face was stiff and pale. He couldn't nod or shake his head, and could only stand there blankly like a dumb goose.

"Oh, then I'll take that as your agreement. Don't worry, given your current situation, I'll use gentle methods this time... After all, there's still a long time to go, isn't there?"

The voice emanating from beneath the iron mask was as dry and sharp as ever, but now one could easily detect a hint of gentleness in its tone. However, this gentleness was something no one would likely want to experience…

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

Baria and Caledo finally met General Tersolius, whom they had been longing to see. He sat upright in the central command tent, on a rough chair made of cedar wood, the bark of which had not been completely scraped off; it was merely sturdy and durable.

But as long as he—the unparalleled Thesolius—sat on it, even the chair seemed to appear more dignified, and the cracked bark seemed to exude an air of majesty and composure, unconsciously making people feel serious and solemn.

The two young men were so excited that their faces turned red, and they could barely speak. After stammering out everything they knew, Tersolius smiled and praised them, noted their contributions, and rewarded each of them with a fine sword and some money. He then sent the two dizzy young men outside to eat and rest... For the two of them, the effects of this day would be felt for a long time to come.

What remained was a child who had been cleaned up, no longer in his tattered and dirty state. He was now sitting below him, curled up in the chair with a slightly restrained air.

The child had flaxen gray hair that grew messily to shoulder length. The two young men tidied it up, but because of their rough work, it still looked fluffy and messy, as if it had just emerged from the bushes.

His face had a very light wheat-colored skin that looked quite healthy, with many scratches of varying sizes, indicating that he had been injured quite a bit in the past. His eyes were large and bright, always sparkling with a kind of cunning unique to children of this age.

Moreover, he was so thin that it looked like a layer of skin and flesh covering a layer of bones. He would fall to the ground with the slightest push, scattering into a pile that could not be put back together.

Even Thessalius frowned, beckoned to his attendant, and ordered him to go and get the child some food before finally asking his first question:

"What's your name?"

His voice was deep and aggressive, and even as he tried to sound gentle, it still carried an imposing aura. It was like the sulfurous breath of a black dragon emerging from the clouds, carrying an oppressive feeling as deep as an abyss.

The boy was a little startled. After hesitating for a long time, he finally stammered out:

“I’m a shelled bug…that’s the name Old Barry and the others gave me.”

The boy's voice was hoarse and weak, and at first glance it sounded like some kind of insect chirping in the grass, but fortunately, Thesolius had good hearing and heard it clearly.

"Why is he called that? Who is Old Barry?"

The boy had somewhat adapted to this rhythm. Although he was attracted by a fragrance that suddenly appeared near his nose, he still swallowed hard and continued:

“Old Barry was our leader. He led us to hide in the sewers and go into the city to find food. Thanks to him, we were able to survive. He said my life was as tough as a worm with a shell, hard to crush with one foot, so everyone called me that.”

A tray was brought in from outside the tent. On the tray was a large bowl of steaming meat soup and soft white bread. Next to it were small dishes of salted chickpeas as a snack. The combined aroma immediately attracted the boy's attention, and his head snapped to the side as if wound up, staring intently at the plate and its contents.

At the same time, crystal-clear liquid flowed uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth, quickly forming a small stream that soaked his clean clothes.

"You can answer my questions while you eat, and if you answer well, there will be more... Try it."

The boy, who seemed timid and hesitant, was drooling so much that his chest was almost soaked. He didn't dare to move because of the unfamiliar environment and the imposing atmosphere. But when he heard those words, he stopped hesitating and grabbed the white bread. In order to eat it quickly, he squeezed the soft food into a hard lump in his hand and stuffed it down his throat with his eyes rolled back.

Even Tersolius had not anticipated this scene. Seeing that the child's face was turning pale and he was about to choke to death, he quickly waved to the servants beside him to handle the situation.

The heavily armored guards stepped forward and roughly lifted the boy from the chair. Then they gave him a hard slap on the back, and when that didn't work, they slapped him again... Finally, they realized that the boy was still desperately stuffing his mouth full, so they grabbed his hand and pulled the clump of bread squeezed to its limit out of his mouth like a cork.

"Haha...heh...ah—"

With a long, labored breath, the boy who had almost choked to death finally came to his senses and immediately grabbed the bread on the table that was covered in his saliva.

"Eat slowly, no one will take your food away."

Tersolius shook his head, looking at the boy with a hint of pity. Under the scolding of his guards, he finally learned to eat with the soup. Then, in a flurry of slurping, he quickly devoured everything on the plate, even swallowing all the salty chickpeas. He licked the plate clean twice.

"Go get him another serving, this time with some extra meat. Okay, now continue answering my question—why are you hiding in the sewers? Even if you're going to beg, you'd get more food and money on the streets, wouldn't you? Hiding in the sewers is just waiting to starve to death, isn't it?"

The boy watched longingly as the plates and bowls on the trays were taken away, seemingly still lingering on the aroma of the food, but he had already subconsciously given his answer:

"Because those armored men were capturing us everywhere. Once they caught us, we would be tied up with ropes and sent to that high wall inside, never to come back... Before, we used to beg in the corners of the city walls, and people would give us food... But after that, old Barry led us into the sewers, saying that was the only way to survive."

"Where did they all go? Didn't many of your companions hide inside with you?"

Although Thesolius spoke, the look of doubt on his face had vanished; he had already formed his own judgment. Nevertheless, he continued his questioning with an almost cruel attitude:

"When we crawled into the sewer, we found that it was different from before... There were many more holes and gaps. We didn't dare to get too close, so we dug a hole near the exit and survived on rotten vegetables from the garbage and rats we caught every day."

Another tray was brought out. This time, the boy had learned his lesson, or rather, he had figured out that no one would take his food here, and there was plenty to eat, so there was no need to be so reckless anymore. Therefore, he learned to eat one bite at a time.

Of course, it's also possible that the meal just now made them feel quite full.

"Monsters would emerge from those newly formed caves and crevices... We only discovered this after living in there for three days. Red Nose was eaten by them. When we found him, his head had been hollowed out, and all the flesh on his body had been gnawed away, torn into pieces... His bones had been licked clean."

“Since then, we’ve had people getting caught by those monsters all the time… We can’t beat them, so we have to move further and further away, but they always manage to find us.”

"As more and more of us died, and I was the last one left, I finally figured out the patterns of those creatures' movements. As long as I carefully hid when they were active, I could survive..."

"Then came the fighting, and more and more soldiers patrolled the area, so I could get less and less food..."

Tersolius nodded slightly, indicating that he understood the situation. After watching the other person finish his meal, he spoke again:

"Next, I'll take you to a city... not the small town you came from, but a bustling big city. You'll be given some work there, and you'll have food to eat every day, so you won't starve. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded blankly. Judging from his expression, he was unaware of what he was about to face. He was simply used to accepting whatever came his way, so he didn't react much.

"Live well, kid. How you live your life from now on is up to you..."

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

This is an Imperial officer's standard sword, of suitable length, with a comfortable handle. The hardwood scabbard is covered with red leather, and the bright steel blade has two grooves on each side for weight reduction and reinforcement.

The handguard and counterweight ring are made of sturdy brass with simple and clear engravings. The center of gravity is perfect, the blade is sharp, and the appropriate blade angle provides excellent stability, enabling it to withstand the most brutal battles.

Although this sword is not adorned with gold or jade, nor does it have any luxurious decorations, its simple and elegant design, perfect feel, and sharp and sturdy blade all indicate that it is a deadly weapon and a warrior's most reliable partner, more trustworthy than any pearl or gemstone.

Such a fine sword could fetch a large sum of money even if sold cheaply, not to mention it was a gift from the governor of Tersolius... At this moment, in Barea's eyes, the sword was practically shining, and he didn't want to put it down for a moment. His left hand was constantly groping for the leather scabbard, and whenever he had a moment, he would draw the blade out to examine it closely.

He had already returned to his unit's garrison and was immediately given a hero's welcome. All his comrades surrounded him, bombarding him with questions. Even their centurion abandoned his usual airs and, like a gossipy village woman, asked them all sorts of questions.

Upon learning that they had received a commendation from Lord Tersolius and that each of them had been gifted a sword, even the centurion was alarmed and came to inquire about it. He then sighed deeply, his expression one of profound regret.

"You two lucky guys... you've really hit the jackpot this time, damn it, even I've never had anything this good..."

272 Escape (1)

With steady breathing, Barea took a step forward. At the same time, he carefully used his shield to cover his side, ready to deal with any sudden attacks.

A crack squad worked alongside him, the men moving with perfect coordination through the dark sewers. They didn't even dare to light torches, groping their way forward in the pitch black. Each of them wore a layer of chainmail over a thick layer of cotton armor to maintain their temperature and stamina in this dark, damp, and cold place.

No one would be foolish enough to carry those powerful but cumbersome heavy weapons and long arms in a place like this. All they carry are short weapons and shields, along with hand crossbows that can be used flexibly.

These small and powerful crossbows were specially made by craftsmen. The crossbows used in the army would not have such a shape. Most of them were long and wide, and such small crossbows could not be used on the battlefield. The only suitable scenario was such narrow and hidden places, for carrying out assassinations and sneak attacks.

In addition, they were followed by a reserve team of medium height, but the strongest and most enduring. Each of them was bound with heavy armor by ropes. This not only prevented them from making noise during the march, but also allowed them to quickly put armor on the front team who had not yet exhausted themselves after they reached their destination, while the rear team responsible for carrying the armor could rest and be on guard.

They were the elite, handpicked from three thousand-man squads, the most valiant and fierce warriors. In just half a day, they had already developed an excellent synergy, their cooperation achieved solely through physical contact in the dark.

No one felt panic in the darkness, even though they couldn't see anything in front of them and could only grope their way forward by holding onto the shoulders in front of them. In the silence, only the sharp blades and dangerous warhammers exuded the coldness of steel in the darkness.

It took them two days to clear this tunnel. Inside the castle outside, catapults continued to bombard the inner city walls. They could feel a strange vibration coming from above every now and then; that was the sound of the walls being hit by boulders.

According to the boy, the officers selected skilled hunters from the ranks and used various methods to lure and kill the two remaining strange creatures in the sewers. Only after clearing the area were these soldiers put to use.

When the child and his companions lived here, they rarely had the opportunity to light a fire, so they were used to finding their way by feeling their way. Therefore, they also had to touch their way from time to time to determine their direction. When they approached this place, in order not to alert the enemy, they extinguished their torches and continued to grope in the dark.

Hearing the increasingly close and clearer rumbling and vibrations overhead, they were certain they were approaching their target...

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

The exhausted soldier yawned, then rubbed his eyes vigorously, letting the yellowish congealed substance on them crumble and fall off with his movement. His eyes were bloodshot, and his dark circles made him look like he might fall asleep at any moment.

"Cheer up, Ferguson! If that bastard Vogt sees you, you're in for it. He might throw you onto the city wall and have you pelted with Imperial stones!"

His companion spoke with a slightly teasing tone, prompting him to roll his eyes in annoyance:

"I just don't believe that guy is really that capable, able to see me yawning here? He's always so neurotic, never letting anyone relax. I just don't understand, what's so interesting about this place? A broken tunnel door leading to the sewer? Are we supposed to guard against rats crawling out from underneath?"

The soldier, clearly harboring resentment for a long time, didn't stop once he started talking, rattling off a long string of words, while his companion simply smiled, leaned his chair against the stone wall, reached into his pocket, and quickly pulled out a dried leaf: