Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The parasite located below the heart has been removed. What remains is the most difficult and dangerous parasite located in the brain, which requires opening the skull to remove. The slightest mistake could damage the target's brain, ruining their plans so far.

Of course, before taking this step, they had to sew up the guy's chest first; it wasn't good to leave his heart, liver, spleen, and lungs exposed all the time.

With skillful techniques, the torn flesh was reconnected, and the bones were put back in their original positions. The needle and thread crossed and became stained with blood, and the blood-stained steel pliers were put aside.

Opening the skull was already a familiar task. The scalp was gently peeled off the skull. The thick hair on it had already been shaved clean during the previous preparations. Then, holes were drilled and cuts were made in the skull, taking great care not to damage the white membrane underneath. After cutting away a bunch of bone powder and debris, a hole about half the size of a palm was finally opened in the predetermined location.

"Um?!"

Tarina's eyes widened suddenly, because what she saw in the gap was not the parasite she had expected, but a pink brain covered by a white membrane with wrinkles. The blood vessels on it looked quite healthy, evenly distributed, and flexible.

Previously, all the members of the Holy Order that were captured could be found to have parasitic hosts in the central area of ​​their brains, so Talina naturally placed the craniotomy there... but this time she failed and did not find the target in the intended location.

After a brief moment of surprise, Tarina composed herself and calmly prepared to open other areas to continue her search.

The clean sound of the steel saw cutting through the skull rose and fell rhythmically, slowly slicing open the skull, which was as thick as the back of the blade, while precisely controlling the force in its hand, without damaging the meninges beneath the skull.

This wasn't the first time Talina had done something like this. The very first time, it was Tersolius who did the work on the skull, fumbling around with drills, chisels, saws, and the like for quite a while, although she doubted that her adult could break the skull open even with his bare hands...

As she pondered and cut, she quickly made a long incision along the edge of the original gap, then extended it in another direction to make a vertical line. Then she could try to break the skull directly with pliers.

This step required some strength, but fortunately, Tarina was no longer the weak woman she once was. During the campaign in the south, even though he was busy every day, Tersolius never forgot to take time to train with her. Although she still couldn't last three rounds against him, she was far from being completely helpless.

Using flat-tipped forceps to clamp the skull, one person held the head still while the other used silver tweezers to push the brain open as much as possible. Tarina took a deep breath and pressed down hard.

click!

The skull broke rather unevenly from the incision, and in that instant, Tarina was overjoyed to see the long-awaited black sheen.

Cough!

Before the clamps on that half of the skull had even loosened, a faint, ominous cracking sound suddenly rang out! Right before Talina's eyes, the once shiny and elastic brain suddenly began to rapidly ooze blood droplets, and the blood plasma quickly filled the meninges below, causing that area to swell up, while the tightly bound body also began to convulse.

"not good!"

Tarina quickly reached out, but it was too late. The silver blood clot on the tray beside the wall expanded visibly, quickly spreading to most of the back of the head, and the body's convulsions abruptly stopped. The faint breathing that had been present also completely disappeared.

"...My lord, he is dead."

Yelia silently checked the other person's vital signs and quickly came to a rather disheartening conclusion... This also meant that all their work over such a long period of time had been completely wasted, and in the end they only got a corpse.

Tarina fell silent, but after a while she perked up, picked up a thin needle from the side, and carefully dipped it into the brilliant purple liquid in the glass bottle. With swift movements, she pricked the faintly visible black patch.

"It's alright. This person's body is already deeply entangled with the parasite, and we're prepared for failure... But even if we fail, there should be value in the failure. Let's continue and investigate the exact location and distribution of the head. This way, the probability of failure will be greatly reduced."

So the group immediately resumed their work, but because they were now facing a corpse, they became much bolder in their actions... At least with a corpse, there was no need to worry about minor injuries or any subsequent effects, so even the most meticulous minds could act with peace of mind.

And so, with the help of several people, another piece of skull was removed, and 70% of the brain was exposed to their eyes. The previously inconspicuous black area was now fully visible, although it was still somewhat hazy, being soaked in blood plasma and meninges.

Tarina gently sliced ​​open the meninges with a knife, then pushed them apart to the sides. The blood that had not yet congealed immediately gushed out and splashed onto the table.

The blade sliced ​​across a hard material, giving it a unique feel. Tarina raised an eyebrow and began to examine the strange object before her.

Unlike the follicles seen during the clearing process and the octopus-like hard-shelled creatures collected from the brains of the completely mutated walking corpses, what appeared before me was a creature firmly fused into the gaps in the brain. Its back had eight neatly arranged overlapping bone plates with light green spots, protecting the most vulnerable parts. Around it grew 16 hard tentacles with sharp spikes and more than 30 small soft tentacles, deeply embedded in the brain tissue.

The creature was completely dead, silently losing its activity due to the deadly poison carried by the needle... This was also to prevent the corpse from being completely taken over by the parasite and suddenly attacking people—although the other party's limbs and all movable parts had been firmly bound with strong straps, making it difficult for even a strong ox to break free, it was still necessary to be on the safe side.

Because it had lost its vitality, it was far less troublesome than when it was alive. Even its tentacles had become soft, and under the touch of the knife, they were as limp as a dead earthworm, easily separated from the brain tissue. Tarina intently observed every detail of the creature, even actively using her knife to cut open the brain tissue to examine the intertwined areas. Yelia and her two assistants took notes continuously, sketching simple yet accurate outlines on parchment with charcoal.

This is no longer a treatment; it's more like an anatomical study. Health and safety are no longer a concern. The entire body can be cut up at will, just to explore the parts one wants to see... Of course, this process is inevitably bloody. Even veterans who have split open countless heads on the battlefield might not be able to tolerate it. After all, killing someone is one thing, but chopping someone up and dismembering them is another...

Time passed, and the sunlight outside the window changed its angle many times, causing the shadows on the ground to move with it. Tarina finally let out a sigh of relief, put down the knife in her hand, and let Yelia wipe her sweat.

"...Let's bury him and get rid of him. Let's rest for a bit, and then we'll continue."

The parchment sheets were densely covered with drawings, and the parchment book next to them was also filled with records. This was invaluable research material. They had never captured a target of this magnitude before, let alone been able to analyze and study it so thoroughly.

The soldiers standing nearby immediately stepped forward and swiftly cleaned up the dismembered body. Once the operating table was cleared, the last remaining assassin they had captured—Patrick—was carried onto it.

The anesthetic was still in effect. Tarina took a deep breath, her face hardening with determination.

"start."

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

"Sigh, this little thing won't even eat bread, it's really picky."

Karila looked at the little bird in front of her with great surprise. She had been eyeing the little creature for a while, and when Tarina went to do something, she even started to touch it. What was even more interesting was that the little guy was not afraid of people at all. She wondered if it was because he had been raised from a young age. Even when Karila scratched his fluffy head, he did not have any intention of flying away.

Almost everyone thinks of feeding small animals when they come into contact with them, and Karila was no exception. After searching for a long time, she found half a dry loaf of bread in her bag. Because it was wrapped in oil paper, it was not damp. However, the little thing seemed completely uninterested and didn't even glance at the crumbs.

Seeing that the little guy wouldn't eat the carila, he wasn't angry. He simply took a bite himself, chewing as he looked at it with interest. Before long, he felt his mouth was dry and choking, and he reached for the wine flask at his waist in discomfort.

To facilitate preservation, military bread is always baked very dry, which is not only a test for teeth, but also a good exercise for one's oral elasticity and chewing muscles if there is no water or alcohol to neutralize it, until your throat can complete this difficult task.

But when she reached for her belt, she grabbed nothing. Karila paused for a moment before realizing that she hadn't brought her flask with her that morning. She had forgotten it in her haste to leave, and then went straight to breakfast, too lazy to send anyone to fetch it.

She chewed the dry bread in her mouth again with a troubled expression, feeling the loose structure rapidly absorbing the liquid in her mouth. Even her tongue felt dry, as if it had been blown by the wind for a long time. She now regretted her hasty decision.

"Here, have this. It's grape juice chilled in well water with a little honey added."

Just then, a water sac was placed on the window next to it, and Tersolius also walked to the window and looked down at the furry little creature.

Colin, who had already taken the water pouch off her waist, was somewhat embarrassed and prepared to put it back when she saw this scene. But then she saw Tersolius pull out another water pouch from somewhere and throw it directly at her.

"The grapes here are very sweet, with plenty of sugar, so the wine made from them is also quite good. Moreover, the skins and seeds are specially removed before processing, so there is no astringency at all. Unfortunately, it spoils very easily and must be consumed within one or two days."

Colin hurriedly reached out to catch it, while Carila beside him had already eagerly begun to drink it down, tilting her head back and gulping down almost half of it before letting out a long sigh. She looked down hesitantly at the dry bread in her hand, then finally put it in her mouth and chewed, this time taking smaller bites.

"I don't know when the doctors will be done... It seems like one has already failed; I saw the body just being taken out."

"That's normal. I didn't have high hopes for this one anyway. I was mainly focusing on the second person. If everything goes smoothly, we should know what we need to know before tonight."

Before Tersolius could finish speaking, the wooden door in front of them suddenly opened, and Talina, as she walked out, took off her hat and mask, a hint of joy on her lips.

"It's a success, sir!"

412 Nest (3)

Sleep is an essential daily activity for everyone. No matter how strong, intelligent, or shrewd a man is, he still needs to sleep and rest, just like the wheels of a carriage, no matter how durable, need to be oiled from time to time. This applies to everyone. But sometimes sleep also means something else—you have to lose consciousness and remain in one place for a long time, completely unable to resist. During this time, many things can happen, and you have no way to interfere or stop them while you are asleep.

Patrick never imagined he would wake up like this… After leaving the Holy Order, he had once thought he could live a normal, uneventful, and safe life. At least he wouldn't have to live in fear and danger like before. Now it seems he was quite naive and arrogant back then, but even in that naivety and arrogance, he never let his guard down. He always prepared at least three escape routes and two places to rest, in case his old enemies came knocking. Every night when he went to sleep, he would deliberately set up traps in the windows and doors so that he would be awakened immediately if anything came in.

He had indeed anticipated waking up to find himself in an unfamiliar area, and he clearly remembered the scene before he lost consciousness... But the sight of a large pile of bloody tentacles on the tray beside him, the horrifying stitches on his body, the armored soldiers holding halberds standing next to him, and a large group of generals and officers who looked extraordinary and of noble status surrounding him far exceeded his most extreme expectations... To be honest, it took him a while to figure out the current situation, and then he fell into a long silence.

The parasite that had given him superhuman strength had been completely removed from his body—this was the most important thing he knew. He had now become an ordinary mortal, even a weak and crippled one. A strong soldier could easily pin him to the ground and beat him. He could no longer be as strong and agile as before, nor could he be as sharp-minded. Even strenuous physical labor was just a pipe dream, at least until his body healed.

For the reformers in the Holy Order, this was tantamount to falling from heaven to hell. After enjoying everything that power brought them, who could bear to become mediocre and incompetent? Those who truly fall and are shattered are often those who have climbed high enough, let alone those who have used such power to force growth. Once they lose the help of their parasites, they will instantly fall from the clouds to the dust, their bodies even weaker than normal people. Everything from the past, the scorn and mockery of mortals, all the complacency and pride in their own power, will vanish in the blink of an eye like snow melted by hot water, leaving only a weak and laughable shell.

Faced with such a sudden turn of events, he should have been consumed by anger, panic, and regret, perhaps even erupting into hysteria... But instead, he exudes a sense of genuine relief. It's as if a thousand-pound burden has finally been lifted from his shoulders, no longer weighing on his bones and flesh, like a butterfly finally breaking free from its cocoon and beginning to spread its wings.

He never thought of turning himself into a non-human being. From a young age, his dream was simply to be an ordinary person with some skills, to earn a living, to be born and grow up in an ordinary way, and then to die... But fate refused to grant him this most ordinary wish in the first half of his life.

He paid no attention to those staring at him. He almost recklessly began to broaden his mind, letting his thoughts soar to the heavens.

He was born in a port city on the border between the Empire and the Western Kingdom of Winders. From a young age, he ran around amidst the stench of pickled fish and the damp sea breeze, walking on damp planks and stones. Every morning when he opened his eyes, the tattered blanket covering him was damp with the mist drifting in from the sea. His father was always an alcoholic, and any fish he caught or any money he earned would be quickly spent in the tavern. His mother was always complaining, her face dark all day long. Every now and then, she would whip him with a short plank studded with splinters. Her fingers were white and swollen from soaking in the washbasin, and even her fingerprints were barely visible.

That was his damp, impoverished, and smelly childhood; he was a boy who grew up amidst the salty sea breeze… If nothing unexpected happened, he would become a fisherman like his father, quickly plunging into the hardships of life, casually finding a woman to settle down with. Then, as his body grew increasingly sluggish and decaying, he would be forced to numb his senses with alcohol, and finally, the boy he raised would send him to be buried in that cemetery in the corner of the city. If he was lucky, they would make him a thin coffin out of broken wood; if he was unlucky, he would just be wrapped in a straw mat.

All of this changed when he was 10 years old—sea monsters from the sea raided their city. Those fur-clad, longship-shipping barbarians wielding axes quickly overwhelmed the city's few remaining security forces and retreated with a considerable haul before the nearby army could arrive. His father and mother also died in the raid, and only he, the young boy, was bound and thrown onto the longship as a valuable slave. From then on, everything changed.

Compared to his previous life of poverty and hardship, being a slave was a luxury. He suffered daily beatings and torture, was poorly clothed, and often went hungry. Under the scorching sun, he stood in the market, his head covered in filth, waiting to be chosen. Those deemed inferior and unwanted were often beheaded and thrown into the sea. Even though he was just a child at the time, and his body was feverish and weak from days of wind and rain, he dared not bend his back even slightly, for fear of being deemed useless and beheaded.

Compared to those who ended up as fish and shrimp in the sea, he was considered lucky. He was bought by a landlord to be a serf... Although he also suffered hardships, working under the scorching sun and not getting a chance to rest, he was still short in stature even in his prime.

He thought his life was over, destined to be a slave, toiling away until death. But his master sold him again—after changing hands multiple times, he fell into the hands of the Holy Order, becoming a test subject for the Insect Masters…and then suffered even more inhuman torture. He still can't bear to recall how he survived; all he remembers are the blood-stained knives, the horrifying screams, the dismembered bones, and the mutilated organs.

Perhaps it would have been better to die then and there, but he still managed to pull through. And this wretched life of his was always destined to survive, forced to drift with the tide, accepting one difficult task after another, and then desperately trying to live on... until he completed the last task, finally thinking that he had finally been freed and could live a peaceful and stable life from then on—this little dream was finally shattered a month ago, and he ended up in his current predicament.

The Imperials certainly didn't do this with good intentions. More likely, it was to get rid of the parasite within him so he could freely reveal the information they needed. Once he had said all that, he would be useless and could be disposed of.

This is nothing. He has no loyalty to that organization anyway. He was just controlled by these damned insects before. Once the threat of those parasites that could eat his brain at any time is gone, he is happy to tell what he knows to the enemies of the Holy Order and give those damned guys a good beating... At least before he dies, he will finally get rid of the things that have been controlling him. He is not free, but he is free.

He finally broke his silence, his expression calming down. He looked up at the tall young man standing before him and nodded slightly.

“I know what you want. I can tell you everything I know. I hope you will not use torture before killing me and let me die a little easier.”

Tesorus's lips curled slightly:

"It's not that easy. Why should I believe that the information you give me is genuine and not something you're deliberately trying to deceive me? I'd rather trust the information from those who are suffering torture and torment and are begging for death."

Patrick nodded somewhat helplessly:

"Of course, I understand that you can't easily believe an assassin's words, but I am indeed very weak right now, and torture could easily kill me, which I believe is not what the Empire wants... Of course, I am just offering a suggestion. It is up to you to decide what to do. If you really want to torture me, I have nothing to say."

Thesolius shifted his right foot slightly back, the steel-scaled armor of his skirt clanging crisply, the leather straps with gold carvings at the ends cascading down his shoulders like beautiful tassels on a magnificent banner, as he looked down at his opponent.

“The Empire’s prisons have plenty of punishments that can be applied to you, and you can’t escape by relying on that… But I can give you another chance. Give me some convincing evidence to prove that you will tell the truth.”

Patrick didn't even look up:

"You must be Lord Tersolius, right? To be honest, I have no way to prove this. There is absolutely nothing I can do. I can only try my best to show that I am willing to cooperate. If you do not want to believe me, then I am powerless and can only submit to your will... So if you believe that information obtained through torture is more reliable, then there is nothing I can do either."

Tersolius suddenly nodded slightly, as if he had reached a conclusion, and then continued:

"Then tell us what you know, the so-called intelligence. Tell us everything you know, and as for whether it's true or false, we'll have ways to verify it."

Patrick remained unsurprised, simply nodding and adjusting himself to a more comfortable position.

"So what do you want to know? I believe it's not some trivial matter."

“How about you tell me his most basic and important question? For example, where is the Holy Order’s stronghold? You’ve been hiding in the dark long enough, and I’m fed up with catching mice.”

“Ah… that’s very simple.” Patrick nodded lightly, as if he were talking about what to have for lunch today, and casually said, “It’s in the Kingdom of Winders in the north, in the territory of Count Porposa, near Salanod in the south, which is also the country where I was born.”

"...It wasn't too unexpected. But I never imagined it would be near Salanod...it's like fate."

The East and South have already been conquered by them. Everywhere the Imperial flag flies, they are searching high and low for traces of the Shrine of the Cautious. Those lurking rats in the shadows are also cautious and unlikely to place their headquarters in Imperial-occupied territory. That leaves only the lands and kingdoms of the North and West. However, Asler in the South is too far from the Empire, transportation is too inconvenient, and there are constant infiltrations by their henchmen, yet no trace of them has been found, making it less likely… And among these, the conditions in the North are simply too harsh. Many places still practice slash-and-burn agriculture and nomadic life, lacking even cities, making it unsuitable for the development of such a clandestine organization. That leaves only the dozen or so kingdoms in the West as the most likely candidates.

Although they could guess the general area, it was still a vast expanse of land, and moreover, it was land that had not yet been conquered by them. How easy would it be to search for something there? In the end, it was just like looking for a needle in a haystack... or at least a needle in a pond.

But now he has a specific destination. The enemies in the west are preparing to start another war. What's even better is that the defenses of the Kingdom of Salanod have been unknowingly infiltrated by his own brother. The mountain defenses they relied on have become useless. The situation that the empire has been trying to achieve through its long-standing wars on all sides seems to be within reach. What appears before him is a completely unobstructed road. He only needs to walk through it to get the answer.

Now that the south is secured, and he is leading several legions north to return home, the empire's previously scattered military forces can once again be concentrated in the west. This time, they will even be supported by three new provinces in the south... There are no more worries about the south and the east...

Things were unfolding at just the right moment; one war had barely ended when another was about to break out... It was as if someone was constantly stirring up the calm water, watching with delight the ripples that were created...

Take a day off today.

This month, the author's sleep schedule has been completely disrupted by their own actions. They've been posting every day until the early hours of the morning. They need to take a day off to adjust their sleep schedule and organize their thoughts... They can't keep going like this.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… ……

413 The Emperor's Suspicion (1)

"only these?"

"Yes, that's all. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I'm not some big shot deeply involved in the organization's operations. I'm just a slightly skilled assassin. In fact, I was an assassin who had been retired for two years, but was dragged out here to do this job, and then messed it up... But I can tell you the location of the guy who contacted me, as well as his name and appearance. You did a great job. The news shouldn't have reached there yet. Even if that guy wanted to run, he couldn't go far. With the Empire's power, it would be easy to catch him."

“Those truly high-ranking and powerful figures would not come to such dangerous places as easily as I do. They would always hide themselves in the shadows and would never show up unless they were absolutely certain. They value their lives very much… But coincidentally, I have indeed met one or two of them, and they were even raised in the nest from a young age, so I can still tell you some things.”

The pain gradually returned from the wound, a sign that the anesthesia was wearing off. Patrick frowned involuntarily. He was now just an ordinary person, a weak one, far from the extraordinary physical resistance and recovery speed he used to have. The remaining injuries on his body were enough to make him a cripple. Now, even his pain tolerance had decreased considerably... Of course, perhaps he simply didn't want to endure it anymore.

Thesolius beckoned to the side, and soon a servant brought over a tray of wine with chilled condensation, its color as red as blood. Served in a beautiful glass, it emitted beams of red light the moment the sunlight pierced through it, carrying a chill unique to the underground.

"Have a drink of this to keep your mind clear, then continue."

"Ah! Thank you so much. I was just thinking of asking you for a drink."

Patrick took the glass, tilted his head back, and downed it in one gulp. Only a few drops of wine remained swirling in the glass, and his expression immediately relaxed, as if it were some kind of magic potion.

"This is truly fine wine... Although I can't quite put my finger on what makes it so good, I'm sure someone as esteemed as you wouldn't try to fool a lowly person like me with something like this. And I have nothing more to say now. That's all I know. Please order my head to be chopped off. That would be an unexpectedly good outcome for me."

"This is the first time I've seen an assassin so eager to die yet so composed. Now that you've broken free of the organization's control, haven't you thought about living a good life?" Tersolius flicked the cold wine bottle, glanced at the gold band around the neck, chuckled, shook his head, and tossed the bottle back. He had been subtly observing the assassin opposite him the entire time.

"Of course I want to live, Your Excellency. Who doesn't want to live? Especially someone like me who's used to living a life of ignominy. But I know very well that I'm worthless now. Dying like this would be a better ending. Otherwise, who knows what will happen afterward... Of course, I have no intention of trying to move Your Excellency and make you take pity on me and let me go like a piece of dust... But I know that possibility is extremely small, so I'm just trying. And I believe that being as honest as possible should increase that possibility."

“Then I should tell you the reward for this honesty, at least for now…” The hand, its knuckles clad in nail plates, gently touched the table, slowly wiping away a speck of dust. The sharp-eyed young man subtly raised the corner of his mouth, a smile as fleeting and deadly as his own. “You can enjoy your life for now, assassin, at least until I discover you have shown signs of deceiving me. Until then, you enjoy the honor of access to the most secure prisons and restraints in the Imperial Prison… You should indeed feel honored; according to our prison warden, the last one to enjoy this honor attempted to plunge a dagger into the throat of the Emperor’s beloved son.”

"...I'm starting to regret it now."

Patrick gave a wry smile and said the most sincere thing he could think of.

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

Clear water droplets fell into the pool, splashing up ripples that shattered the reflection of the lion statue in the water. Beautiful ornamental fish swayed their broad, thin, silk-like tails, moving slowly even when disturbed.

Two tiny shrimp, perhaps no bigger than peanut shells, lived at the very bottom of the pond. They fed on floating debris and moss. Because they were at the bottom, they were the least aware of the sudden change. After a while, they hurriedly burrowed under the rocks, leaving only two thin antennae sticking out. Their small pincers were nervously retracting.

The emperor's long silver hair was now styled into intricate braids and buns, every single strand neatly gathered at the back of her head and secured with hairpins inlaid with gold and jade, adorned with rubies and sapphires. She wore a long white silk dress decorated with gold-embroidered lotus flowers and vines entwined with laurel leaves. An embroidered toga, made of purple silk, wrapped around her shoulders and hung down to her waist, bound by a golden belt. Only her feet, clad in strappy sandals, were submerged in the pool, occasionally shifting and continuing to disturb the ornamental fish.

"So you're saying there's no unusual activity at all?"