Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Ding ding ding ding! !

A deafening bell suddenly rang out, piercing his ears and pounding on his head, making his heart skip a beat. He was startled by the sudden loud noise.

"what happened?!"

"That sounds like the assembly bell! Let's hurry and go check it out."

His companion, who shared a shed with him, suddenly stood up from beside the table, grabbed a nail, put a tarpaulin over his head, and rushed out. After a brief hesitation, he followed suit... Of course, this was also because that bastard had taken away the only thing that could keep him dry, and if he didn't follow, he would have to walk in the rain later.

And so they made their way through the messy tents and muddy roads, merging with the crowds from other tents, until they reached the central square of the camp.

At that very moment, in the misty drizzle, a burly man, dressed in armor, was waiting there. Raindrops fell on his curly red hair and beard, wetting his robe embroidered with a yellow lion.

The two of them stopped abruptly, their faces showing fear and surprise... and most of the others around them did the same, hesitating a few dozen steps away from the platform... After all, no matter how much they privately resented the king, his reputation as the Red-Haired Butcher was not unfounded, and no one dared to act recklessly in front of him.

Fortunately, the officers of the army arrived quickly and began to organize the soldiers into ranks. Thousands of feet trampled the mud and water, and before Redbeard Yotserro could get angry, they had organized their ranks and silenced the whispering soldiers.

It was only then that Pulgen noticed that new corpses had been hanging from the pillars on the left side of the square, and the clothes that had not yet been stripped off belonged to the servants.

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

"What do you mean we have to go back?... This is really strange. We don't know how long we've walked or how much we've suffered to get here, and now we have to go back?"

Pack your belongings into a bag and tie it up. The large bag, made of oiled cowhide, is very durable and waterproof. The drawstring with an opening hangs down to the corners so you can carry it on your shoulder. An oiled wool felt is used to protect you from the wind and rain.

Pulgen was baffled by the orders he heard—they were to return the way they came and garrison the city of Busalido, which wasn't even on the border, so what was there to defend? Or was another kingdom deciding to take this opportunity to stab Salano in the back?

"Why do you care so much? Anyway, he raised our pay, so we should just do whatever he says. Isn't that what we came here for?"

Unlike him, his companion was not filled with doubt. Instead, he was excitedly packing his things, eager to set off... The best news he knew today was that their king had increased everyone's pay, and the pay for longbowmen like them had increased from 6 friers per day to 8.

This is a remarkable improvement. It seems like it only increases by two per day, but over a month it adds up to about 60 more. In the past, this price would only be available to archers who could afford to prepare their own good helmets and at least one full set of chainmail, not to poor guys like them who only wear helmets and armor.

Everyone was overjoyed and their morale was high, but only Pulgen remained full of doubts... The king's unexpected generosity could perhaps be explained by the desire to stabilize the army, but he always felt that something was amiss, that there was something suspicious about the whole thing.

In the end, however, he had no choice but to give up thinking about it. After all, he was just an ordinary longbowman, and if he wanted to earn that money, he had no choice but to obey the king's orders.

Just like his roommate said, as long as that red-haired guy really gives them money, they don't care if they have to shoot birds, since they'll have the money in their hands anyway.

The entire camp outside was in an uproar. Tents, houses, and shacks were being dismantled everywhere. Useful items were loaded onto wagons and transported out along the road one after another. Unused items were simply dumped here. Piles of garbage rotted and became unbearably smelly after being washed by the rain. The sheds above the already overflowing toilets were also dismantled.

Bugles sounded one after another on the plain outside the camp, urging the soldiers to hurry on and reach their next encampment while the rain stopped.

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

While fine rain won't obstruct your vision, it will constantly take away your body temperature and leave you with dampness. Without protective measures, you can easily be susceptible to illness.

Sometimes, this light drizzle can bring unexpected benefits—such as rinsing blood off a knife blade.

The long, slightly curved military knife, stained with crimson marks from slicing through bone and flesh, was gradually fading under the continuous drizzle, slowly being replaced by fine water droplets. The steel, polished to a mirror-like smoothness, was as cold as ice.

Below the hillside, a steel river stretched into the distance, exuding a suffocating oppression and power. Footsteps kicked up countless muds. Horse-drawn wagons and oxcarts carrying supplies traveled in the middle, covered with rainproof felt. Soldiers around them were also covered with oiled felt to protect themselves from the rain. Even the flags were rolled up and carefully put into leather tubes.

Natamus wiped the blood from his blade with a soft cotton cloth, gazing into the distance at the mountains and dense forests hidden in the clouds, his eyes flickering with inexplicable emotions. His adjutant beside him had just rolled up a parchment map and put it into the tube he carried with him.

From now on, he has already gained most of the advantages he could from the first move. He believes that even if his opponent is slow to react, he should be able to do so. However, he probably can't find a way to remedy or counter his advance. In the end, he can only make a conservative plan and send his troops to the key cities that must be defended in an attempt to block his advance.

This is indeed the most correct decision for that king at present. After all, there is more than just Salanod in the West. As long as we can delay, troops will come to our aid sooner or later, and then we will have the possibility of launching a counterattack... if we really do receive aid.

423 Emerges (1)

Victory, an incomparably sweet word. Just seeing it makes you feel relaxed and happy, because it means that you have overwhelmed your opponent in some way, and thus gained something from this sweet victory. It may be wealth, it may be slavery... Even if you take a step back, at least you can get the honor of defeating the enemy. This is a spoil of war that only the victor can enjoy. The loser can only swallow this bitter fruit, hide in the shadows to lick his wounds, or perish.

As for Tersolius, he had grown accustomed to the sweetness of victory. Although the pain of his previous defeat was still etched in his memory, it seemed distant now. No longer bleeding, he had become accustomed to driving his legions to defeat enemies, conquer lands, destroy armies, and seize cities time and time again. He was used to stirring up everything on this land with his own will. After all, his current position itself endowed him with this power, a power that could be described as unparalleled in the world. As long as he remained in the army, it seemed that he could solve any problem.

The Empire's transformation of the south has begun to show results. Lands previously held by lords now all fall under the Empire's banner. Previously impassable roads of varying specifications and in poor condition have been uniformly repaired. Scattered villages and settlements have been reconnected. Roads, like the blood vessels of a person, are rapidly expanding thanks to the efforts of countless workers and prisoners of war, connecting lands never before reached. While still far from the extensive and developed roads of the Empire's provinces, they are already far more convenient and safer than before.

Only on such roads can the imperial army achieve its expected marching speed. After all, no matter how disciplined an army is, you cannot expect it to reach its maximum speed on uneven, rugged dirt roads; that would be nothing short of wishful thinking. Once the imperial soldiers set foot on the wide, cobblestone roads of the provinces, they can often advance at a speed that leaves other countries speechless, making every ambitious person who attempts to divide the imperial territory tremble with fear, dreading the sharp blade of the legion falling on their head, thus ensuring the integrity, unity, and efficiency of the country.

Only on this path could he be confident in devising some rather unique plans... but before that, he needed to confirm one issue, a rather fatal one.

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

"You go down first."

The parchment envelope in his hand was exceptionally smooth, with gold and silver threads inlaid along the edges outlining the shape of intertwined grapevines. It felt thick and sturdy, and various anti-counterfeiting measures were employed in those fine details—this was a letter sent from the Emperor's palace, written by the Emperor himself, and delivered to the south by hawks and hounds day and night at top speed. The means of transportation were also top secret, and if the opening method was slightly off or if the person reading the letter was not the true recipient, the letter would spontaneously combust to ensure that the information inside was not leaked.

He cut his fingertip and dripped a few drops of blood onto the inconspicuous grape-shaped pattern in the lower left corner. Accompanied by a golden light, the hidden clues left in the letter confirmed his identity.

Unlike their usual conversations, this was the first time he had received a letter of this caliber… This also meant that the emperor even thought that having a dedicated escort by hounds was not safe enough, which was why he had resorted to such measures.

This kind of envelope cannot be opened casually as usual; it must be handled by a specialized scholar… To be more precise, opening it is like unraveling a complex spell, and no mistakes can be made during this process… But the emperor did not send any scholars to her side.

The hesitation lasted only a moment before Teresolus cursed himself for being foolish and sent for Talina.

Talina arrived quickly, though she hesitated and appeared shy as she entered his tent, even somewhat hesitant to look him in the eye… Talina had undoubtedly been brave that day, but in his presence, that bravery seemed to have faded quickly… but it was perfectly timed, like a cavalry charge launched at its most powerful moment. However, he didn't have such reservations, especially since it was time to attend to business, so he simply beckoned:

"Come here quickly, doctor, I have a problem that only you can solve."

"Hmm?...What is it, sir?"

Talina quickened her pace, slightly curious, and, like herself, took the ornate envelope from his hand. Almost the instant her fingers touched it, a look of surprise appeared on her face:

"What an exquisite spell structure... It will certainly take some effort to decipher this. Please wait a moment, sir."

Tersolius smiled and stood up, giving up the only seat in the room. He then forcefully pressed the still hesitant Tarina down onto the seat, while he stood behind the girl.

"Is there anything else needed? I'll have someone prepare it."

"No need for that, the basic medium I'm used to will be fine."

As she spoke, Tarina took out a silver knife from her bag—she had rarely used this medium, which she had used since childhood, since she had gotten herself a silver short staff, but it was perfect for this occasion.

"as, eq, ty, ml".

The four syllables, which were difficult to pronounce, were spoken quickly. A blue light rippled at the tip of the knife. As the blade pointed forward, it slowly lifted the sealing wax seal at the mouth of the envelope. Instantly, a complex pattern like a spider web appeared on the paper. They overlapped and interlocked, almost dazzling the eye and making it impossible to find the beginning or end. But overall, it was the double-headed eagle emblem that was the symbol of the empire.

The tip of the knife carefully and slowly touched one of the lines, then, like scooping up noodles from the water, it lifted it up, bringing out a shimmering thread, which was then pulled and pushed forward along the incredibly complex lines... After an unknown amount of time, until she was covered in sweat, Talina finally unraveled the first thread.

The tent curtains had been drawn back on both sides, allowing the sunlight to stream in. The skylight in the ceiling and the windows on the sides were all supported by removable tarpaulin, which could be used to let in light on sunny days. There wasn't much decoration, but it was practical and sturdy enough. The 12 strong pillars were enough to withstand the fiercest winds and snowstorms, making it suitable for the northern grasslands. When it got too hot, the lower part of the tarpaulin could be removed, allowing a gentle breeze to blow in and out without obstruction, carrying away the oppressive heat.

Even in the south, today's weather was exceptionally hot. Soon, Tersolius felt sweat beading on his forehead. The wind blowing from around the tent carried an unpleasant heat, and the ground outside was scorching hot. The guards on duty had already rotated three times… In this season, the only option was to begin the march in the coolest time of day, before setting up camp to rest before the scorching midday sun. Forcing a march during the hottest part of the day would only subject the soldiers to the torment of thirst and intense heat—a situation so dire it could easily destroy an army… And if there was a lack of water along the way, it would be utterly foolish.

They have been camping and resting for some time now, and there is plenty of water nearby to provide for the entire army to recover their strength for tomorrow's march. In the forest outside, auxiliary soldiers and laborers are still busy cutting down thick tree trunks to replenish the camp stakes that were previously damaged.

The water jug ​​next to them contained fruit chilled with well water, but most of it had become less fresh due to the journey. They were still some distance from the next town, and they would have to wait to get fresh vegetables and fruits, but it was enough to cool them off for now.

Reaching in, he rummaged around inside for a bit, pulled out an apple, shook off the water droplets, and deliberately took a few steps back before taking a bite, trying to limit the crisp cracking sound to his surroundings so as not to affect Talina.

The sun was slowly moving across the sky, sharing its scorching rays equally with everything on earth, baking everything that lacked moisture until it was dry. As he finished his third apple, Talina, who was sitting at the table, finally completed her last action, collapsing into her chair, wiping the sweat from her forehead, and beginning to pant heavily.

"Try this, and rest for a while first."

Reaching into a nearby jar, he pulled out a chilled tangerine, took two steps forward, and tossed it to the recovering Tarina, causing her to scramble around in a flurry. Amid her complaints, Tersolius finally saw the contents of the letter.

As Tarina peeled the orange, accompanied by its distinctive citrus fragrance, Tersolius intently read the letter from beginning to end, not missing a single word. Then, his face suddenly tightened, his expression becoming increasingly serious, and he read it over again.

After a long while, he finally slammed the letter down on the table, then looked up at Talina, who was staring at him.

"We'd better act quickly and get going first, Doctor."

"what?"

With a flick of his index finger, the letter flew across the table and into Talina's hand. Tersolius's expression had relaxed, but his eyes held a chilling glint in them.

"It's no longer possible to resolve this steadily; things are about to get complicated."

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

The scorching sun after a heavy rain is always the most uncomfortable, because at this time the soil is still quite moist, but it cannot significantly lower the temperature. Instead, under the sun's rays, it turns into damp and hot water vapor that hits you in the face, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Such weather is unsuitable for working in the fields or traveling. The damp soil will hinder people's activities to a considerable extent, but it cannot stop some people who are determined to go out.

"...So, you've made up your mind? You really want to give up your own plans and follow an old man like me around aimlessly?"

"That's right, I've made up my mind. I've had enough of living like this in this place for ages!"

Ferdiant, the former city guard, now stood tall and alert, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the old man before him, reiterating his conviction:

"After hearing what you said, I realized how boring and stupid I had been living, and how many things I couldn't understand! Once I realized this, I couldn't bear it anymore, and I couldn't stay here any longer!"

"Besides, it's not safe for an old man like you to travel alone. I'm a young and strong man, and I have armor and know how to use a sword. You'll definitely need my help on the journey ahead!"

The young man's attire was completely different from before. His armor had long been removed, and all that remained was a suit of armor and a small piece of woven leather breastplate. A short sword was tucked into his waistband, with some water stains still clinging to it, indicating that it had just been sharpened before setting off—a true last-minute preparation.

"I have no relatives here, no property or assets, so there's really nothing to miss. I might as well go out and broaden my horizons. It'll definitely be very interesting. Maybe that's what I've been living for all this time!"

The old man frowned, looking at the enthusiastic young man in front of him... Like every young person full of curiosity and interest in the world, this lad was full of drive and determination... and this determination seemed a little too much.

But in the end, he decided to give the other person a good talking-to, after all, he was no ordinary traveler, and the troubles he would encounter would go far beyond the wolves, tigers, bandits, and robbers along the way:

“You’re oversimplifying things, young man. Travel can certainly broaden your horizons, but it also means countless threats and hardships. Why do you think I look so old and destitute? You should know that I used to have some wealth, but I got into trouble and ended up in this state.”

“A young man like you could do anything and be better off than me. You yearn to travel, but there’s a high chance you’ll have your throat slit in the first week of your trip and die in some unknown forest, your bones gnawed clean by wolves. Why take such a risk?”

"If I had the chance, I would definitely try to find a good place to settle down and tell this to every young person who wants to go out and make a living, because they have no idea what it means. Heroes are always a tiny minority, and most people are just corpses that no one knows about after they die. But I had no choice at all."

424 Emerges (2)

Only today did Bevis realize that a young man could be so stubborn… as stubborn as an old man nearing seventy, having lived most of his life, whose ideas had become outdated and rigid over time. He could no longer listen to other people's opinions, firmly believing that his own choices were the best, and glaring angrily at anyone who tried to change him.

If it weren't for the fact that the other person's face clearly belonged to a vigorous young man, he would almost have thought he was talking to a balding, frowning old man. No matter how much he wasted his breath, the other person remained unchanged, stubbornly sticking to his own ideas, as if he would cling to his leg if he insisted on leaving... In fact, that's exactly what the guy did. After his third attempt to persuade him, he reluctantly gave up and wanted to leave on his own, but the young man stubbornly followed, carrying his bundle on a stick over his shoulder, always keeping a distance of three or four steps from him, never getting too close, but never increasing that distance either.

Whenever he turned his head and stared at the other person with a helpless look, the young man would deliberately turn his head to the side, as if he happened to be walking on the same road... However, he knew very well that the other person did not have a specific destination at all, but was just following him.

The roads were still damp and muddy after the rain, and it was easy to slip when you stepped on them. To cope with these conditions, the locals wore special thick straw shoe covers over their shoes. These covers not only protected the shoes but also provided stability on the slippery mud by using the rough friction of the straw ropes. On the dew-covered grass, they were as smooth as walking on flat ground, making them perfect for the area's perennially bad road conditions.

As a local, Ferdinand was well-prepared, having put ropes on his shoes. But Bevis, a newcomer who had only recently arrived, clearly suffered, finding it particularly difficult to walk on the slopes. Even the donkey he was leading was in the same predicament, its four hooves digging deep furrows in the ground, but the mud made it hard to get a foothold.

Just as he was feeling a little awkward, the young man beside him once again proved just how well-prepared he was. He put down his bundle, rummaged through it, and quickly pulled out several pairs of shoe covers tied together with rope, even one for a donkey… Bivis finally realized he couldn't refuse, so he had no choice but to accept the gift. The two of them worked together to put the straw rope hoof covers on the somewhat stubborn donkey so it could continue moving. This time, however, compared to the awkwardness before, the two seemed much more harmonious.

They continued along the road, passing through some dense jungle and trudging through muddy ground, until they came to an open meadow. There, they found themselves at a three-way intersection. In the middle of the triangular patch of ground stood a tall apple tree, its branches and leaves lush and verdant… But in stark contrast to its healthy growth, five corpses hung from the tree's sturdy branches, each with a thick hemp rope around its neck, clearly hanged directly from it.

Most of these corpses had tattered military uniforms on them, and their boots were wrinkled. Although they weren't exactly shabby, they still gave off a sense of something unkind... and the signs hanging on their chests proved it. Bivis squinted and leaned closer to examine them carefully. He found that they were bandits from the area who had been executed for violating imperial law. Their corpses would be hung here for four days to deter any unscrupulous individuals who might try to take advantage of the situation before they were taken away for disposal.

"Sigh, this guy's ear is missing half... I remember now, isn't that the infamous 'Half-Head' from Uthos?! These guys are old bandits, they've been rampaging there for four or five years. I heard their equipment is better than the lord's guards, and they're cunning, ruthless, and vengeful. Anyone who dares to inform on them will have their throat slit in the middle of the night, so even if someone sees their whereabouts, no one dares to speak up, and no one has been able to deal with them... I didn't expect that just a few days later, the Imperial troops had barely arrived and they'd already been slaughtered..."

Ferdiant walked over to him with a look of astonishment, and used the stick in his hand to poke at the head of the hanged corpse. Under the filthy hair, which resembled the fur of a dead rat, he discovered half an ear, its edges already grown into smooth skin, clearly severed long ago. This was a characteristic of a famous member of the bandits:

"Tsk tsk... These Imperials are really something. I wonder how they managed to catch these guys in the forest... They've only been here a few days, and they're already managing this... Sigh, look at this guy, his face is twisted and elongated. He must have been terrified when he died. His eye has even popped out of its socket, and sigh, there's still such a long piece of flesh attached to it—"

As a former city guard soldier, Ferdiant was no stranger to dead bodies, but even he was speechless with shock… not because of the eyeball that had popped out of its socket, but because he had finally seen clearly the gruesome mutilated corpse behind the two bodies—

It was as if he had been meticulously sliced ​​from head to toe by tiny blades. This exceptionally robust corpse was covered with knife marks, not deep, but enough to cause pain... and it was only half a corpse—the body was severed at the waist, and the internal organs were also divided into two parts. The upper part hung out of the chest cavity like a large bunch of green grapes, attracting flies everywhere, and the flesh at the cut was pale as if all the blood had been drained... This could only mean one thing: he was cut in half while he was alive, otherwise the blood in the corpse would have just stagnated in the flesh.

The only weapons he could think of capable of such a feat were sharp, heavy guillotines or broad, long axes… Of course, that would be the best option; otherwise, if a weapon of insufficient power were used to achieve this, the torture would be far more severe than he had imagined. The dislocated jaw and gouged-out eyes of the corpse made his heart tremble. The efficiency and ruthlessness of the Imperials left an unparalleled and profound impression on him at this moment, and he was sincerely glad that he had not directly confronted them.

Such a horrific scene would be enough to keep even the most fearless bandit awake at night. From then on, they would live day and night in fear of suffering the same fate. It was like an efficient and cruel display board, showing everyone the consequences of robbery, murder, and arson in a way more direct and powerful than any words. The Empire had brought a new order and was showing everyone how to face it—whether to obey and live under its protection, or to become a destroyer and suffer the same fate.

The two of them stood there in silence for a while until the stench of decay finally broke through the limits of their noses... Although they hadn't been too close to the corpse just now, they turned around and walked forward, continuing for dozens of meters.

Ferdiant didn't think much of it and just followed Bivis ahead, but after walking a while longer, he couldn't help but speak up:

"Old man, where are we going? You should have a destination in mind, otherwise we'll run out of money sooner or later if we keep wandering around like this."

Bivis didn't even turn his head:

"What? You're worried now? Weren't you fearless and carefree just now?"

Ferdiant chuckled:

"Hehe... Well, we haven't officially set off yet, have we? Once we officially set off, there are many more things to consider, but before we set off, we just need to make up our minds. That's always been my approach."

The old man smiled and shook his head:

"...I'm going to the Empire. I have a feeling I'll see something I've always wanted to see there... As for you, if you're still so stubborn, then come along. Just don't regret it later. Of course, even if you do regret it, there's nothing you can do. It will be too late then."

"Haha, I've finally heard you say that! Don't worry, it's not like I'm a complete novice traveler. I've been with a team delivering supplies twice before, and I even wore out my best pair of shoes back then..."

The two men left the bloody, cruel apple tree behind. The sun-drenched dirt road steamed with hot vapor, which would then evenly steam everyone who walked on it, leaving them drenched in sweat and exhausted... But at least for the time he was on his way, he could still feel the coolness brought by the damp vapor.

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"What do you mean the person is already gone?!"

The stern-faced, weathered man slammed his hand on the nearby railing in a fit of rage, causing the sturdy wooden frame to tremble. The strong impact returned to his hand, making him grimace as he pulled it back, muttering curses and swinging his wrist. The imperial officer before him watched the man with a somewhat subtle expression, yet still maintaining the appropriate respect.

"Indeed, sir. Unfortunately, they left yesterday. The two of them were traveling together, and since we confirmed they were not suspicious individuals, we did not stop them... Should we send cavalry to pursue them? They shouldn't have gone far, after all, the two of them only had one donkey with them."

"No need, no need, I can go by myself. After all, it's my job... I really don't know why I took on this difficult task... You guys, don't just stand there, go check if our horses are fed, we still have to keep going."

Saratag scratched his head, turning his once neat hair into a messy bird's nest. He grumbled as he walked out, shaking off his chainmail. The scabbard of his greatsword, loosely bound, occasionally thumped against his waist. He now wore a completely different outfit: a knee-length chainmail over a red military uniform, and over that, a hard leather vest reinforced with large and small diamond-shaped rivets. It was lightweight yet offered sufficient protection. His calves and wrists were protected by arm and leg guards made of bound planks. The chainmail below his hips was divided into two pieces, allowing him to move freely.

His current attire has nothing to do with the construction legion anymore; he looks exactly like a seasoned mercenary who has lived a life of bloodshed... And if you want to know why he came here and became like this, you can only mention that Tersolius.