Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

So even though his army had effectively split apart, even though many of his lords had become disloyal to him, and even though his daughter had fallen into enemy hands, he remained calm and composed.

The Imperial army lived up to its reputation. Even the most fortified cities were on the verge of collapse in their presence, but through constant maneuvering, he managed to halt the enemy's advance and block the Imperial offensive.

Just like using rotten wood to stop a piercing knife, no matter how sharp the knife is, it will eventually stop... and when it pierces too deep, that's when it breaks.

But now, he has to consider a question... how did he end up in this situation? How did things suddenly deteriorate to this extent?!

While his army was repelling the Imperial attack, their retreat had been silently cut off! His previous composure vanished instantly; overwhelmed by shock and fear, he abruptly stood up and overturned the table in front of him.

"How did the Imperial army get there? Did they fly there? The entire estuary of the Us Sea is under close surveillance by our fleet! There's been absolutely no news from the border with Asri, so how did they suddenly appear?!"

At this moment, his mind was churning like a pot of porridge, with all sorts of chaotic thoughts vying to emerge, and all sorts of incoherent guesses almost bursting out of his mouth. He had completely lost his composure.

This was so strange, so terrifyingly strange… their retreat was cut off, and a powerful enemy lay before them. What they had thought was an impregnable defense of the valley had now become a pocket, trapping them tightly inside—a dire situation for any army, one that could be described as utterly hopeless.

He racked his brains trying to figure out the reason—not to solve anything, but because the intense shock and unease drove him to find out what was going on.

When the messenger, limp and exhausted, was dragged before him, he finally learned a strange message from him:

"The Imperial army came from the coast... most likely they were transported there by ships."

"It came from the sea... If it came from the sea, it could only be the river in the north..."

His brows furrowed at first, then his eyes suddenly twitched upwards, and his whole face contorted into a ferocious expression.

"What on earth are the Hols doing?!"

327 Second Line (3)

The fleet from the north delivered the Imperial army to their rear!

The moment he received this definite news, Samir thought about many things, and he instantly realized that the Hols must have done something about it.

...The only outlet to the sea in the north is the river within their territory, and it is absolutely impossible to hide such a large army from them by transporting it into the sea through the river, even if they lose control of the area, since their fleet is still at sea!

But they remained unmoved after receiving this news, not even sending a messenger to warn him, allowing the Imperial Legion to appear behind him and lock him firmly in the southeastern valley...

This judgment made his veins bulge, and he almost recklessly summoned his legions to make the Holsteins pay for their stupidity and greed—he could guess with his toes what those guys were thinking; they just wanted to hope that he and the Empire would both suffer heavy losses so that they could reap the benefits! They never wanted to give up the Southeast Valley in the first place.

After all, this land was originally where they resisted Asel, and the southern fortresses also blocked the iron hooves of the Sand Kingdom. They certainly did not want this land to fall into Asel's hands.

This so-called aid war was full of exchanges of interests and intrigue from the very beginning... No, wait!

Samir, consumed by rage, suddenly restrained himself with reason. He realized a crucial point: would allowing his legion to be encircled and annihilated by the Empire truly benefit the Hols? Wouldn't that make the Empire's iron hooves completely unstoppable? Wouldn't they just suffer the same fate as before?

If things really come to that, what difference will it make if the Asher people's support never came at all?! They will still be ruled by the Empire, and their king and nobles will still die under the legion's sword.

So what would be the best-case scenario for them?

...His legion would certainly retreat hastily after receiving a well-timed warning, and it would be a full-scale retreat. He couldn't possibly spare a force sufficient to deal with the enemy in the rear when facing a powerful foe, not to mention that it was still uncertain whether he could even command a portion of his troops...

Most importantly, the timing of this warning must be just right, so that the empire doesn't actually cut off his return route, leaving tens of thousands of troops in dire straits, nor does it allow him to prepare in advance and calmly repel the enemy. It will only disrupt his current arrangements, preventing him from easily taking control of the Southeast Valley.

If everything really develops in this direction, it would be perfect for the Hols. The two nations would fight to the death here, with heavy casualties, and the southern kingdom, which was almost destroyed, would have a chance to breathe and recover...

A jumble of thoughts clashed in his mind, making him almost unable to stop pacing back and forth in the tent. Various speculations and immense pressure were forcing him to make a decision as soon as possible, while at the same time he was constantly issuing orders to summon his advisors and noble generals.

This guess seemed reasonable at first glance, but after a moment's thought, he discovered many flaws, which made him extremely anxious... There were simply too few channels to obtain intelligence. The Imperial cavalry controlled the entire plain, making it extremely difficult for their messengers to move. All communication with the Hols was carried out by ships—and now he was truly tasting the bitter fruit of this.

His attention was temporarily diverted when a figure suddenly entered the tent guarded by the soldiers. He looked at the figure with a neatly trimmed beard:

“Adanso, I remember I asked you to handle something else.”

"Yes, my master... but there is someone I must let you see."

The tall, thin middle-aged man stepped aside, while two Alphalis clad in brass-scaled armor grabbed the shoulders of a frail man and dragged him inside.

Samir frowned, looking at the man who was as weak as a dead dog. His gaze lingered on the man's sharp ears for a while.

This guy was in a terrible state; his clothes were tattered and no longer served any purpose of covering him up, looking like a pile of torn rags. His hair was a mess, like a bird's nest, and his whole body was filthy, covered with a thick layer of black mud.

He looks more like a beggar, and one who hasn't been able to beg for food for several days. Even among beggars, he's quite destitute...

"He is a messenger."

Without letting him ask, Adanso beside him confirmed his guess, which made him frown immediately. His surging anger was almost unbearable, after all, he had finally found someone who should bear the brunt of his anger.

"Get up, beggar! What are you doing here?! Did your king send you to bear our wrath after his betrayal? Perhaps I should let him know that our anger is not so cheap."

After drinking a few mouthfuls of water, the messenger finally regained some of his senses, and Samir began to question him without any politeness, his face as gloomy as if it were made of cast iron.

The messenger first gasped and coughed violently, letting tears and snot wash over his face, before answering in a trembling, stammering voice:

"Please forgive my ignorance, I do not understand what you mean by betrayal... I have come here to deliver an important warning to you: the Imperial fleet has sailed south and they may attack your rear!"

"...This is the most useless thing I've heard all day. It's like someone yelling in my ear that people will die if they don't drink water. You're too late. The Imperials have captured the key city behind me, and it's all because of the dark, laughable, and cowardly thoughts of you Hols people!"

Samir finally lost his temper; his temples throbbed, the veins inside twitching, and he was almost about to order his guards to drag the ridiculous man out and behead him.

Even in the face of his rage, the messenger remained utterly bewildered… but fortunately, this bewilderment was brief; once his mind cleared, he realized something in a very short time:

"This is by no means an intentional delay on our part, Your Excellency. Perhaps you are unaware that our fleet has been completely annihilated!"

Samir's eye twitched slightly, signaling the other person to continue.

"The Imperial fleet came from the north. No one knows how they got into this river, but the cities upstream have already been destroyed by them. Half of our fleet was destroyed there... without even a chance to send out any warnings!"

"That's why we didn't have time to respond effectively when those warships went downstream... Their warships could even breathe fire like dragons, and the charred wreckage of those warships is still floating on the ocean."

"You might think we're deliberately stalling, but in fact I'm already..."

This is the seventh batch of messengers sent out. The previous six batches all died on the way. The Empire has taken control of this sea. They will destroy and set ablaze any suspicious ship, and the roads are all controlled by their cavalry, who are as terrifying as wolf packs. Anyone who leaves the city walls faces almost certain death..."

"Please believe me, we absolutely do not wish to see your esteemed Shah's army perish here; it would bring us absolutely no benefit... We came from the sea, and countless others have been sent out from the land, but not a single one of them has been able to deliver a message to you..."

The filthy, disheveled Hols man trembled, his pale, cracked lips quivering. His scarred face and hands were pressed deeply to the carpet, as he performed his final duty with the utmost humility.

Samir had already realized that whatever the truth was, it didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that things had come to this point, and even if it was really as the messenger said, it wouldn't make any difference.

He's already fallen into the worst possible situation... There's no time left to think about things that won't help the current situation.

"Well done, stunningly well..."

He could only sigh like this, a sigh tinged with inexplicable emotion, as he tried his best to stop his wrists from trembling.

Outside the tents, the army had already begun a new round of operations.

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

The fishing boat rocked and swayed, and only those who had spent a long time at sea could stand firmly on it. Residents who were used to the stability of the land would huddle up on it, afraid to move even slightly, lest they accidentally fall into the sea and become fish food.

The strong fisherman pulls and tears his fishing net, each pull requiring great effort, and he tries to slow down his movements as much as possible—if he tears this precious net, it will take a lot of effort to repair it, but the heavy weight coming from the net is also a joyful thing, as it means a bountiful harvest.

Just like this time—the weight to the other side even made his boat start to rock violently. He relied on his nimble waist movements and leg swings to maintain his balance and prevent it from capsizing. This made him even more excited, determined to drag this heavy harvest onto his boat intact.

He wondered what might be inside. If he was lucky enough, he hoped it would be a net full of lively breadfish—these fish are rich in oil, have round bodies, and are the most valuable and easiest to sell.

Soon his fishing net was dragged to the end, and just as he was watching the undulating sea with anticipation, a pale face startled him so much that he stumbled and fell, letting out a desperate scream, just like a terrified woman.

There was nothing in the fishing net except for a mangled body, mostly eaten by fish and shrimp. Small fish and shrimp were still nibbling at the gruesome wounds on the pale, swollen face. Several fingers, like coral, poked out from the gaps in the net.

"What is that?!"

No one answered his question. Only a large pile of charred wooden debris drifted by in the distance, growing larger and larger with the ocean current, until it almost formed several small mountains. A silent lamentation of their tragic fate.

The flames of war have arrived...

328 On the Eve of War (1)

Tens of thousands of troops, their camps stretching for dozens of miles across a vast land, mean that the army's reaction is relatively slow. The time required for the small parts that make up the army—the soldiers, auxiliary troops, officers, and nobles—to coordinate with each other and for the entire army to react is far greater than the time it takes for an individual to think and respond.

Authority and organizational ability are often crucial at this time. An army consists of countless people, who form numerous large and small units. Whether it is marching, attacking, defending, or retreating, it is essential to effectively organize them, communicate orders effectively, and execute them effectively in order to succeed.

Frustratingly, he can hardly possess that ability anymore... while his opponent is about to plunge a sword into his stomach.

Thirty-four panicked soldiers who spread rumors have already been beheaded by Alpharis, but chaos in the army is still unavoidable... After all, many of the nobles and officers are not fools; they have their own channels of information, especially the nobles led by the Abbasis family who are opposing him—he simply cannot hide anything from them; the control of information has failed from the very beginning.

But at this very moment, chaos is the most deadly thing, so deadly that just thinking about the consequences makes his heart tremble.

He didn't believe that terrifying opponent would let this opportunity slip by. He could almost hear the sound of rolling iron hooves crushing them, and they, still in chaos and division, would be utterly crushed! Utterly defeated! His army hadn't even had a proper battle with that opponent before it was about to be completely defeated!

Under this terrifying pressure, his mind raced... and soon a dangerous idea formed in his head—at least a portion of the army would still obey his orders, and he could...

Just as decisively as severing an arm with a sharp blade, he immediately dismissed the idea. He realized it was utterly foolish and ridiculous nonsense—a portion of the army being unable to withstand a powerful enemy's attack would only scatter their strength and cause the morale of the entire army to crumble, leaving them equally vulnerable and easily defeated.

Now that things have come to this, it's clear what needs to be done.

Samir straightened his back, giving himself about the time it takes to eat lunch to think, process his emotions, and gather his strength. It was time to start doing something...

“Adanso, summon all the men, all the nobles and officers of the rank of chiliarch and above, and bring them here… Under the Lord’s watchful eye, we must make a decision.”

The tall, thin middle-aged general had been standing at the tent entrance. Upon receiving the order, he turned and left without hesitation. Soon after, the sound of galloping hooves could be heard outside, as hundreds of messengers departed from the central army camp to deliver his orders, or rather, invitations.

He cannot run away, he cannot retreat, otherwise, given the current situation, he will only suffer a crushing defeat... perhaps even a miserable defeat with a rout of hundreds of miles. The only option is to gather the army and confront the attacking imperial army head-on, and repel them.

In that very short time, he had calmed himself down, like a lion facing a challenger, his heart filled with a cold rage.

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

The imperial army was advancing in great force, converging into a gleaming torrent of iron that swept across the towns and lands between the two armies. The endless banners were overwhelming, and the battle cries that clamored for battle shook the earth.

A large number of light cavalrymen roamed around the army like a whirlwind. They were the eyes and ears of the army, their hooves never stopping, rushing in and out, delivering a constant stream of intelligence, while keeping watch for any possible enemy approach.

Countless auxiliary soldiers drove livestock-drawn carts to transport supplies. Compared to conscripts from other countries, they were more well-trained and a force to be reckoned with. They were also far superior in terms of weaponry and equipment; their breastplates and helmets were enough to save their lives in many situations.

A large portion of the supplies they transported consisted of well-made arrows, drawn from the empire's arsenal and the cities of Hols, with the former accounting for the majority. This was enough to support the army's archers in firing a continuous barrage of arrows at a torrential density for an entire day without disturbance—a scenario in which most armies would crumble.

Among this massive army that blotted out the sky and seemed capable of shaking mountains and breaking rivers, the most conspicuous was the armored cavalry—as if cast from molten iron in a scorching furnace, exuding the unique coldness and hardness of steel. They maintained a strict formation with terrifying discipline, densely guarding the black double-headed eagle banner in their center, surrounded by the banners of the legion generals in the surrounding army.

This is the most powerful cavalry of this era! It is not proven by any superficial embellishment or praise, but by the screams of the enemy and the dripping blood and bones. Countless powerful enemies have been trampled and crushed under their hooves. As long as they appear in the army, they will make the enemy lose their courage and make the morale of the friendly forces soar.

Any opponent who tried to stop their devastating, earth-shattering charge has proven their absurdity and folly, and today they are equally confident that they will once again seize victory and crush their opponents.

Tesolius rode on his warhorse, and Moss was also fully armed today. The light cavalry were constantly relaying the enemy's movements to him... and if nothing unexpected happened, they would soon be engaged in battle, so everyone in the entire army was fully armed and ready to fight at any time.

The Assele were retreating before his army—a fact that was obvious to all. It was clear that his enemies had realized that their only chance was to defeat the Imperial army head-on, and therefore decided to consolidate their forces and meet the enemy in favorable terrain.

This was clearly the right decision, as waiting in comfort to face a powerful enemy who had come from afar would maximize his chances of victory... but only if he had sufficient control over his army.

Having an army that cannot be fully controlled is not much different from not having an army at all; in fact, it may bring more harm and increase uncertainty, making it possible for a situation that could have been maintained to collapse instantly.

His opponent appeared calm in his response. But Thesolius knew that the initiative was always in his hands. Like wielding a spear to kill a lion with one leg chained, he needed to be careful, swift, and calm to achieve his victory, while also being ruthless.

Now, he is going to seize his victory.

Talina rode beside him on her horse, using her meticulous thinking and the intelligence brought by the cavalry to make a series of judgments. After receiving confirmation from Tersolius, she would immediately send them out to carry out, as skillfully as if she were preparing a potion in her own laboratory.

Carila followed behind with her men, and this well-equipped and highly skilled force would become the key to the breakthrough, relying on Tersolius's keen intuition to enter the most critical battlefront.

Colin has taken on a new responsibility today... She will be in charge of commanding half of the archers in the army to suppress the enemy on the front lines. This responsibility is extremely important, but Terthorius is confident that she is more than capable of it.

The entire army was mobilized, each fulfilling its duties. This was a long-awaited all-out attack by his legion, and he believed that the enemy he faced deserved such treatment.

They were about to have their last rest before today's bloody battle, to conserve their energy and strength. He would never allow his soldiers to face the enemy exhausted when he had the time and energy.

After all, the more preparations made before war, the less blood will be shed during the war. If possible, he didn't want to shed a single drop of blood...

329 On the Eve of War (2)

The uneasy atmosphere in the army camps is an extremely dangerous sign. It is a harbinger of this violent machine about to spiral out of control, enough to alarm any commander... and if he cannot even do this, it only proves that he is an incompetent person unworthy of his position.

The atmosphere within Assele's army could no longer be described as mere unease; chaos would be a more apt description. Although orders were still being carried out with difficulty, troops were still being mobilized, camps and towns were being abandoned one after another, and forces were shrinking, their formations were consistently difficult to maintain, and officers were struggling to maintain confidence and authority. Discontented grumbles and complaints were everywhere, and they were merely carrying out their duties out of some kind of inertia.

Such an army is nothing but a paper tiger, ridiculously weak, and utterly incapable of facing a strong enemy... If the soldiers no longer believe they will achieve victory, then victory will become an unattainable dream for them.

Under such circumstances, the invitation from the legion commander spread far and wide, and most people were destined not to refuse, or at least not to openly refuse. To do so would mean defying the Shah's will, and the consequences would be something that ordinary families could not bear.

Among them, the most eye-catching was a group of armored nobles gathered together. Almost everyone was fully armed, their golden scale armor reflecting the sunlight and dazzling to those around them. Their gorgeous silk inner robes were embroidered with gold thread and inlaid with gemstones, and their scabbards were intricately carved and inlaid with pearls, gemstones, agate, and gold, making them both heavy and magnificent.

Their banner features a magnificent ram with long, broad ears and large horns that curve back to the back of its head—the most common goat breed in the Assel region. The ears are used for heat dissipation, while the horns are essential for the Assel people to make horn bows. The cattle here do not have the broad, thick horns found in the north.

No one knows why the Abatheris family used a sheep as their family symbol, but their prestige, power, and countless riches made even such a weak animal seem profound, and even inspired many smaller families to secretly imitate them.

At the forefront of them was an elderly man, well past fifty. Although his beard was white, his face was not wrinkled, his eyes were still bright, his eyebrows were still thick and strong, and he could still walk freely even while wearing heavy armor.

This is Ketherdor, the head of the Abatheris family, an old nobleman with considerable prestige and authority throughout the kingdom. Although he has brought his men here, seemingly responding to the commander's orders, he carries an aggressive air, as if they are preparing to use force to coerce their commander.

Of course, things haven't gotten to that point yet, otherwise they wouldn't be here.

The lords arrived one after another and gathered in front of the commander's tent, just as they had done before setting out on the campaign... except this time there were no cheers, and even the sun seemed to have abandoned them, no longer shining its scorching light on the golden roof of the tent.

This was seen by some as an ominous sign, and they hid in the shadows whispering and exchanging conspiracies and dubious information with other lords... This continued until the guards in golden armor emerged from the tent and lined up on both sides.