Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Knights clad in iron armor rode on warhorses made of skeletons. The array of spears, axes, halberds, shields, hammers, swords, and blades was as dense and imposing as a steel wall. Banners were clustered among them, their patterns still blurred, yet they exuded a deep-seated majesty, as if someone were saying that everything was ready.

The next moment, all the skeletons opened their mouths wide and let out a silent roar...

370 Nightmare? (2)

The battle between the skeletons was tragic and fierce. Apart from the absence of blood and flesh, they advanced and fought like a group of elite soldiers, mercilessly striking and tearing each other apart with their weapons. Although the severed arms were not mangled, they still twitched and struggled like living people.

Both formations were perfectly orderly, and the skeletal soldiers, like elite warriors, took turns attacking and retreating to provide cover, presenting an extremely sophisticated and terrifying order. Accompanied by the waving of flags and the urging of drums and horns, wave after wave of attacks crushed the enemy's formation, attempting to break through.

These skeletons performed so well that their formations moved in shifts as if they were a single, colossal entity. An ordinary army would probably have been torn apart and routed by them... but the opponents they faced were no less formidable.

Amidst the crackling sounds of bones breaking and shattering, Clautina witnessed this unique and brutal battle. Both sides were tenacious, resolute, and brave; not a single bone showed any sign of retreating or fleeing. Because of this, their battle was exceptionally cruel. Every second, countless bones were smashed into fragments on the ground, yet they continued to advance relentlessly.

This is a difficult decision for any general: to throw his elite troops into the battlefield and wear down a powerful enemy without reservation. While this may make it more likely to defeat the enemy in a short time, it also carries unimaginable risks and the casualties are bound to be considerable.

This tactic is a desperate gamble, a gamble, a decision with no other choice and no way out. It doesn't care about casualties or costs, only about defeating the enemy. It is extremely rare except in life-or-death situations, and it also requires that the soldiers under its command be willing to fight so desperately.

Those who are able to witness this scene without participating in it are also considered lucky. They are fortunate enough to see the most brutal and bloody scene of this era and to truly feel the weight of the word "war"... even though this war exists on bones.

Claudina's position was the best spectator seat, offering an unobstructed view of every corner of the battlefield, and inexplicably, she could see it exceptionally clearly, down to every single detail.

That's why she quickly found the generals commanding the two armies—two equally skeletal generals, clad in heavy armor and surrounded by their personal guards.

One of them wore a tall, brass-topped helmet and was covered in heavy armor with fine willow-leaf trim. Even his fingers were tightly encased in intricately woven chainmail. Bright yellow silk, embroidered with four-leaf hibiscus flowers with outstretched leaves, peeked through the gaps in the armor.

The other was clad in imperial-style double-layered heavy armor, with leather straps inlaid with copper studs hanging below his shoulder blades. His hands and feet were protected by carved and inlaid chainmail gloves. He was equally composed and commanding, just like a living person, turning his head to give orders from time to time.

Such battles are incredibly brutal, but they are also easy to resolve. They eliminate all probing and maneuvering, resulting in a direct and bloody confrontation where one side will always be defeated. The loser is the general in the east, wearing a brass-topped helmet.

Its army could no longer maintain its formation and was pushed and shoved until it collapsed with a crash, leaving no room for recovery... because it had already staked all its strength and was powerless to turn the tide at this moment.

This vast basin also sealed off any possibility of its army's defeat. Only by being completely crushed by the enemy, until the last survivor's head was smashed, did a strange silence finally descend upon this vast basin.

As if suddenly losing their target, after slaughtering all their opponents, the remaining army came to a standstill as if their strings had been cut. At this moment, they became stiff skeletons again, and even the sound of their joints grinding together ceased to be heard, becoming completely silent.

But this silence also carried an unsettling and terrifying sense of oppression, like a huge black shadow swimming beneath the seemingly calm sea, or dark clouds filling the sky when a breeze blows, carrying a premonition of gathering power.

Finally, in the brief half-minute of the war's cessation, the peace was shattered once again. A new flag slowly rose behind the army, followed by a second, a third... and the sounds of bones grinding, colliding, and cracking rang out again like a tidal wave. Soldiers and officers who had been loyal to their general did not hesitate to rebel, tearing the entire army into countless fragments and beginning a terrible melee.

Just as she had initially witnessed, utter chaos reigned. Betrayal here ceased to be betrayal; having lost their adversaries, the political armies crumbled, turning on each other in a bloodbath. Until they were all reduced to shattered bones, carpeting the land…

And after that, the cycle begins again. The shattered bones will rise up again under the pull of some force, form a new formation, fight each other again, betray each other in a chaotic battle, and cover the ground again, like a nightmare that never ends, endlessly repeating the hellish scene.

"What the hell is this..."

Claudia had lost count of how many times she had felt this way... What she saw was always refreshing her understanding, with more unexpected situations arising every minute and every second, but unlike a real dream, it was not boundless or illogical, and it still followed some basic principles.

By now, she's become somewhat numb, and she'll likely be able to accept any strange situations that arise more quickly.

Boom! ! ——

A bolt of lightning, as thick as a river, traversed half the sky, its color a shocking crimson, containing unimaginable violence. In the blink of an eye, it illuminated the entire sky, casting a bloody glow over everything around it.

The thunder had barely passed when the sound of rain began. Large raindrops pelted down relentlessly, but instead of the refreshing scent of rain, they carried a thick, foul smell of blood.

When she stiffly raised her head, the dripping blood had soaked her completely, quickly becoming sticky, and was still slapping against the surrounding white bones, staining the stark white skeletons with a layer of scarlet.

And this red color became increasingly glaring and deeper, eventually starting to accumulate rapidly on those withered bones, showing no sign of leaking through the cracks, just accumulating more and more...

Suddenly! A scarlet, skinless, and mangled hand shot out from within! It convulsed and twitched, grabbing at the emperor's ankle. A terrifying warmth followed, and before she could even cry out, the ground beneath her feet collapsed with a deafening roar, like a waterfall, as countless bones mixed with blood cascaded down, completely engulfing her.

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

In the stillness of the night, the magnificent bed suddenly shook violently. The sturdy wooden planks were struck heavily by a hand, making a loud noise that instantly stirred up the entire room.

The maids waiting by the bed exchanged a slightly panicked glance, but dared not make the slightest move. Only the lady-in-waiting beside them seemed unconcerned and hurriedly stepped forward, approaching the bed curtains.

"His Majesty?!……"

There was no sound coming from inside the curtained tent. Now, even the tops of their heads began to make slight noises, but the servants did not notice and continued to try to wake their emperor.

"His Majesty!"

This time, the lady-in-waiting's voice was even louder, bordering on rude, but she still received no response. The previously composed lady-in-waiting suddenly panicked, her face turning pale. She opened her mouth, about to say something more, when…

"call…………"

A long sigh escaped, like a drowning person finally raising their head above the water, revealing a sense of relief, which also made the servants in the emperor's bedroom breathe a sigh of relief.

"...It's nothing, you may leave...No, wait, go and summon Perilla. Tell her I'm uneasy and have some questions that I need her to answer."

Without any hesitation, the servants bowed and withdrew. At this moment, Clautina finally recovered from her panic and shortness of breath, and was silently looking at her palms. The lights in the room were still bright, and the servants had already changed the fuel to ensure that the room was dimly lit but not glaring enough for a peaceful sleep.

But the emperor was certain she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore; no matter how comfortable the environment, it wouldn't induce sleep. At this moment, her mind was perfectly clear…

I'm destined to have a sleepless night.

--------

"This is the last leg of the journey... It should be finished in about three more days, but I heard from old Pete that the rain is getting lighter and lighter and could stop at any time."

Diyul shook his head and continued walking forward, unconcerned.

"Don't worry, the rain has been so heavy lately that it has soaked the roads. Even if the rain stops, we have a reason to stay here for two days, which is enough to get through the rest. No fool would come looking for us on such muddy roads."

"Oh, right, boss, there's one more thing. We're running low on food. This damn weather has caused a lot of our food to go moldy, so we have to throw it away. Considering what's coming next, we should start preparing early."

"Just go ahead and get it. Hunt any deer or wild boar in the nearby woods. We don't need to worry about that anymore. We can buy the rest from the nearby towns. There's no need to be shy about it; everyone needs to eat."

"Don't be stingy with money. Make sure everyone eats well these next few days; they might come in very handy later."

The two of them walked one after the other across the hills and arrived at a logging camp. The trees here had been completely cut down, leaving only wooden stakes all over the ground. The soil on the ground had been trampled into a muddy mess by countless feet, with the footprints of cattle and horses mixed in.

Further away, under a shed made of tarpaulin, a group of people were busily tying up rafts, securing the logs together with vines or ropes. Once they were sure they were stable, they could be dragged down the mountain for use.

"Is there anything else you want to say? If not, go ahead and get busy. I have things to do too."

Seeing that the guy behind him was reluctant to leave, Diyul turned around with some confusion. While asking a question, he found a wooden stake and sat down.

The burly man opposite him suddenly hesitated, appearing somewhat awkward and timid. He frowned as he looked at him, but before he could urge him further, the other man made up his mind:

"Boss, do you think the Imperials will really come?..."

At this moment, everyone else was busy outside, and few were sheltering in the camp, so it was just the two of them under the tent. In the drizzling rain, Diyul frowned and looked up at the other person:

"What? Didn't I make it clear to you before? This kind of golden opportunity to make great contributions isn't something everyone can resist... No, that's too slick. No general could resist this. At least if I were a general, I definitely wouldn't be able to resist... So don't worry about it. After all, we've run out of options. There's no other way."

"...But I've heard that the Empire is doing very well in the south, and they've already acquired large tracts of land there... Surely no country can keep fighting forever."

Diyul suddenly laughed out loud and slowly shook his head:

"You've lost your mind, haven't you? ... Don't forget, it's our local nobles who have set their sights on the Empire. I don't know what's gotten into them, thinking they can take a bite out of the Empire... So this time it's not a question of whether the Empire's appetite has been satisfied or whether they want to fight, but rather that someone else is going to attack them... Do you think this country can tolerate this? Do you think they can let this opportunity pass them by?"

“I had already thought it through before. We had nowhere to go from the moment we disembarked… No matter what those noble lords are doing, we have to find a way to survive. We're not going to die with them. Now that we have this opportunity to both live and eat meat, how can we let it go?”

"You always think too much about random things, making yourself overthink and unable to see things clearly... This was a decision made by many of us. If there were any other better path, do you think some of them would have gone off on their own? We were all forced into this situation, forced to come together. That's how it is, it's that simple."

"We're all just waiting for an opportunity, we're all fighting for survival, so we have to be ruthless and decisive. We can't hesitate, or we'll all be killed. Do you understand?..."

371 Surrender (1)

The emperor's orders are not to be questioned. However, the emperor can be capricious in exercising his power, and everyone must tolerate this capriciousness. For example, Polilaya, already asleep, was woken up in the middle of the night by her attendants and rushed to the palace in a carriage. This kind of experience, which would drive an ordinary person mad, could only elicit a helpless sigh from her. After all, the emperor is the emperor, and such an emperor at that… With His Majesty's authority growing ever stronger, let alone a chief scholar like her, even an elderly man like Scripps would have to obediently get up.

But today, she became so engrossed in flipping through some ancient books that she worked until late into the night and had only just fallen asleep. She was extremely exhausted. Even with her servants repeatedly reminding her, she felt as if her eyelids were glued shut. She would often wake up suddenly when her head was drooping to a certain extent, suffering greatly and sighing incessantly.

The palace carriages were masterpieces crafted by skilled artisans, and the extremely smooth roads made the ride surprisingly comfortable. Ironically, this very smoothness made her drowsy. Just as it's difficult to fall asleep on a galloping horse, it's easy to doze off in a straw-covered carriage. The utter silence outside the window further eroded her willpower. Her head drooped so often that her gray hair became a tangled mess on her forehead, and sweat made her skin and hair stick together, creating an itchy sensation.

"Sir, have some of this. It will help clear your mind."

The waiter next to her had been fiddling around with something since earlier, but she was too sleepy to notice until a warm porcelain cup was handed to her. She then realized what was happening and instinctively reached out to take it. At the same time, an extremely cool and refreshing sweet aroma wafted into her nose.

"Hmm? What's this taste like?... Bohe?"

She uttered an extremely obscure word, a pronunciation that few in the empire knew, and it sounded like a baby's babbling.

"That's right. Lord Tersolius insisted on calling this herb 'bohe,' so His Majesty did not object. Now, a garden has been specially designated in the palace to grow this plant. It is now indispensable for the daily needs of the palace. The Grand Steward is even planning to designate another garden."

"...It does sound alright, though."

Perila couldn't help but chuckle. Before she had even taken a sip, she was already much more awake, and the drowsiness that had been bothering her had quietly dissipated by half.

This plant was brought by Talina, a scholar who rose to fame in the library. Originally growing in the southern region of the empire near Hols, it naturally possesses a sweet taste and provides a continuous cooling sensation in the mouth, making it extremely effective for treating fire poisoning. It quickly became popular throughout the capital... However, it had a very common name: Duck's Foot. The scholars originally planned to design a new name for this new plant according to the usual classification methods, but Elder Tersolius insisted on calling it Bohe. Thus, with the emperor's approval, this name was established.

No one knows why this invincible military genius of the empire is so insistent, but naturally no one would deliberately make things difficult for him... Moreover...

Thinking of this, she smiled again. But this time, her smile carried a hint of mockery.

...Perhaps the next time she sees Lord Tersolius, she will have to call him Your Majesty—this is something that is difficult for most people to notice, but not for her, a trusted close advisor of the emperor. Moreover, being an outsider, she can see things very clearly.

She drank the liquid in her cup, and the carriage finally entered the palace gates. Under the watchful eyes of the guards, and guided by the attendants, she passed through numerous corridors and doors, finally arriving at the wide corridor in front of the audience hall. Seeing the exquisitely carved sculptures and murals adorning the corridor with its golden brilliance, she couldn't help but be surprised again—she had thought she would be summoned directly to the emperor's bedchamber, but she hadn't expected to come here. It seemed that this matter was definitely not small, that His Majesty had taken it to such an extent.

Thinking about this, the chief scholar became even more serious and even began to secretly consider possible options.

She wasn't kept waiting long. Soon, the carved doors of the audience hall were pushed open, revealing a brightly lit hall filled with hundreds of expensive whale oil candles illuminating every corner. The emperor, dressed in a silk robe, hurriedly emerged from the back, surrounded by his maids, and immediately beckoned her over as soon as he sat down.

“Come here, my scholar.”

She keenly sensed the anxiety and confusion in the emperor's tone, narrowed her eyes slightly, and cautiously asked:

"Your Majesty, I will wait here."

The emperor nodded slightly:

"I must be tired from calling you over so late at night... but I really have some questions, and I think it would be better to let you analyze it for me rather than wait any longer."

At this point, Clautina paused, her expression becoming somewhat subtle, as if she too was hesitant and conflicted. But ultimately, she lowered her gaze slightly and began to speak:

"I had a nightmare."

Perila nodded gently:

"It must be quite strange."

The emperor laughed out loud, waved for his attendants to bring over a sturdy, carved, upholstered wooden chair:

"Sit down first. I was woken up in the middle of the night, not to stand here... As for my dream, it was really strange, strangely frightening."

"I've almost forgotten what it was like to fight to the death with someone last time... If there's a place in this world that's been abandoned by the gods, I think it's the place I saw..."

————————————————————————

Things went much more smoothly than expected. Or rather, these remnants of the army had lost the initial fighting spirit they had when they came from the south. The truly brave and unyielding ones had long since been reduced to mincemeat under the iron hooves of the enemy. The fact that they had managed to escape here meant that they were unlikely to resist an option that would allow them to live. Or perhaps they had already anticipated this option, but remained silent due to certain factors, not daring to speak up first. At this moment, it was as if they were simply going with the flow.

Samir knew that his remaining troops had long since given up on fighting. Since they didn't want to fight, he, as their commander, had no choice but to follow suit... Otherwise, forcing them would only cause the situation to collapse completely. Moreover, he really couldn't see any point in continuing the fight. These remaining troops were so fragile that they would crumble at the slightest touch, unable to even stand up, let alone face the elite Imperial Legion in this desperate situation.

Despite knowing that things would inevitably turn out this way, he was still somewhat unwilling and angry. In fact, intense shame burned in his heart like a raging fire... But fortunately, this unwillingness was extremely weak and was easily crushed by his reason and guilt. Now, he had no right to be a brave warrior, or rather, he had never been qualified in the first place.

The wound on my back started to throb again, as if someone had stuck a red-hot iron skewer into it. But since my back was covered in dead flesh, the pain, though burning, wasn't unbearable; it was just a constant, nagging pain, like insects gnawing or rats biting.

Life is always full of unpredictability. Just as he did not expect that an arrow would accurately pierce through his armor and enter his back, it was as if the arrow was mocking his incompetence and carelessness, leaving a shameful scar on his back.

I once heard a saying that a warrior's scars on his back meant he was wounded while fleeing, a mark of shame. A true warrior should only have scars on his front. At the time, I scoffed at this, considering it the nonsense of ignorant people. After all, the battlefield is ever-changing, and even the bravest soldier cannot guarantee he won't be injured from behind. It could be a stray arrow fired by enemy cavalry, a blade accidentally struck by a comrade pushing from behind, or even a blow taken when the formation is broken... Situations are ever-changing, how could it be so simple?

But now, he genuinely feels that the scar on his back is indeed a disgrace, a burning disgrace that leaves him no peace for even a moment.

This humiliation was something he could only swallow himself; it was the bitter fruit of his own failure, something he could only slowly chew and savor. The scars on his back would eventually heal and fade, but the scars in his heart would constantly burn within him, leaving him with lessons that ran deep in his bones.

No lesson can be more profound than this, enough to be remembered for a lifetime.

He will probably remember everything he sees today until his last breath.

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

First to arrive were large contingents of cavalry, each clad in gleaming armor, swaggering about arrogantly. Their eagle banners were still stained with black smoke and blood, clearly indicating that the fighting had been recent and they hadn't had time to repair their flags. Undeterred, they spurred their horses forward, kicking up clouds of dust like yellow dragons as they encircled the main army, a move that seemed almost defiant and utterly reckless… And they certainly had the confidence to do so, after all, their own cavalry had long been wiped out, leaving only a few dozen personal guards who had fled with their general. What could they possibly do against these remaining cavalrymen?

The other side made no attempt to conceal their intentions, openly flanking them from both sides. They quickly occupied the rear and flanks, ready to strike their weak points with the slightest movement. This also ensured that any remaining illusions in the minds of some were extinguished, preparing for the next move.

After all, although they were a group of defeated soldiers, they were still a group of defeated soldiers with armor and weapons. Any rational commander would not think that they could be easily controlled, and would not easily let down their guard until the last moment... Of course, they were not lacking in vigilance, but vigilance was nothing but powerlessness. They could only be slaughtered and hoped that the other party would go easy on them.

The ensuing army was even more disciplined and orderly, appearing from afar like an iron wall on the horizon. As time passed, it grew more concrete, more terrifying, and more imposing, with banners stretching as far as the eye could see and swords gleaming coldly. Their footsteps rolled in like thunder, repeatedly crushing past their ears, vibrating their eardrums, and shaking their hearts, slowly ripping fear from the deepest recesses of these defeated soldiers. Before the enemy's formation even reached within an arrow's reach, their ranks began to show signs of crumbling and disintegrating.

Given their current state of disarray, if a real battle were to break out, they would likely scatter in disarray, resulting in a mountain of corpses trampling each other...

Now that things had come to this, Samir finally let out a sigh and fell silent.

Before long, a troop of armored cavalry halted and approached. Their horses were unarmored, each rider strong and tall, their coats smooth as silk in the sunlight, their muscles undulating beneath their skin like pythons, displaying a terrifying power. Each horse was a priceless treasure, and the riders were all full of vigor and confidence. Without hesitation, they charged straight into their formation, as if they knew they would make way… or rather, if they refused, they simply charged forward.

And so, without any hindrance, the cavalrymen came right up to him, and the leader made him realize with a start—wasn't he the messenger who came on the day the war started? ... But the situation was completely different now, which made him feel quite complicated, a mixture of emotions.

“My lord, I am acting on the orders of Commander Tesolius to invite you all to come and discuss the surrender. Please follow me immediately.”

Upon hearing this, no one moved; almost all eyes turned to Samir, who stood at the very front, until he let out a long sigh:

"Let's go, it's getting late."