Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Perhaps people's bottom line is truly broken after one compromise after another. When he came from the north, he initially just wanted to see his daughter. Later, he stayed in the south only because he was worried about that girl and wanted to save some travel expenses. Later, in order to protect himself, he killed several deserters who had become bandits. He could no longer hide and fell into the eyes of the imperial high command, and was promoted to an officer who could manage many people.

Later, because he did a good job in that position, even completing the task ahead of schedule, he took over his current position, specifically responsible for doing things for the imperial consul and legion commander, Tersolius, that required shrewd, capable, bold, meticulous, and ruthless people. These tasks were often not suitable for sending soldiers out, and other people who were suitable for these tasks also had their own things to do and could not spare any manpower, so they fell into his hands.

...In any case, this reason is too absurd. No matter how you look at it, it seems far-fetched. It can only mean that Lord Tersolius had planned this all along, so he came up with this excuse. He has probably been watching him for a long time.

What he was doing now was far removed from his original goals, and he should probably complain about it. But in fact, if he really thought that way, he would feel guilty—after all, he knew his own family best, and if he really didn't want to do this job, he could naturally refuse. Lord Tersolius was also a reasonable man… In the end, it was just that he himself was a little reluctant… Deep down, he was actually somewhat envious of his daughter, envious that girl could live such an interesting life, envious of that life full of glory and iron-fisted courage.

He was ultimately unwilling to live a stable life as a farmer and hunter... and that was the reason he came here. Deep down, he preferred an unknown and interesting life to a monotonous one where he could easily guess what his death would be like.

425 Encounter (1)

Navigating slippery roads always requires skill, especially for those riding horses and driving vehicles. They must be extra careful because if something goes wrong, the damage is far more than just bruises, broken bones, and intense pain that needs to be endured and absorbed. Compared to humans, horses, with their large size and slender hooves, are more prone to injury when they fall. Once a horse suffers a leg fracture, it means that this expensive animal can no longer perform its intended function and can only become a crippled beast that eats grass.

When things get to this point, for the sake of long-term considerations, people have no choice but to slaughter the horses. Even for wealthy merchants, this is a considerable loss. Therefore, vehicles traveling on the road after rain often move at a very slow speed to prevent such a terrible situation from happening. Otherwise, once the horse stumbles, it will be too late to regret it.

The same applies to Saratag... but there are some minor differences. For example, he knows exactly how to bypass the muddy sections and travel quickly through forests and hills, thus avoiding winding roads and instead cutting straight and ruthlessly into the travelers' destination.

Perhaps only a mountain hunter like him could do this. After all, for him, the conditions in any forest are not that different. He is like a fish in water in rugged rocks and narrow, difficult paths, and he is very good at sharing these experiences with others, making their tracking twice as effective.

At this moment, he had to be thankful for his foresight—they weren't riding the tall, swift steeds, but rather the ponies used by the mountain people for carrying goods. They were slower, but perfectly suited to the terrain, and their large hooves made it less likely for them to fall. So, by the time the sun had completely evaporated the moisture in the forest, they had already rushed out of the forest and arrived at a tavern by the roadside—this was also the widest part of the road, with dozens of steps of exposed, damp earth. The tavern's outer walls were made of piled stones, and there was a beautiful apple tree growing inside. Because people often drank inside all night, there was no door installed.

At this very moment, several audacious drunkards were staggering out of the gate. They had clearly drunk themselves half to death the night before, and now they were groping around with crooked mouths and squinting eyes. Even a child could easily kick them to the ground... But considering that the Imperial Legion had just plowed through this area, and the smoke of war had only just cleared less than a week ago, even Saratag had to marvel at their exaggerated drinking habits.

At this moment, some of the drunkards were looking at these uninvited guests who had emerged from the forest with curiosity. Saratag and his companions, while shaking off the leaves from their bodies, dismounted and waited by the tavern. He wasn't very confident, after all, this was a necessary route. No matter where their target was going, they would have to pass through here sooner or later. And with the road muddy and difficult to travel, they couldn't possibly be faster than him, who was traversing the forest hills and mountain paths. Not to mention, if they wanted to go around that mountain, it would take them half a day longer... So he wasn't in a hurry at all.

"Give me that picture, I want to take another look."

He reached out and took two parchments from his subordinate. They were sketches of the target drawn by a professional artist based on clues they had gathered in the city. There might be some differences, but the general similarity was enough for them to identify it.

“An old man and a young man. The old man was wearing a light blue shirt and a white turban. The young man was wearing a red short-sleeved shirt. The two of them were leading a donkey. They both had sharp eyes.”

………………

"That guy is too shameless! Grandpa, you shouldn't have stopped me. Let me teach him a lesson, knock out a couple of his teeth, and he'll know how powerful we are. How dare he be so arrogant then?!"

Ferdiant angrily kicked a stone from the roadside, while Bivis simply shook his head with a wry smile.

"You're still too young. I'm not telling you to swallow your anger, but if I don't keep an eye on you, you'll fall into a pit."

"Um... what does this mean?"

Seeing the young man's confused expression, the old man stroked his beard:

"Didn't you notice all those neatly arranged pottery jars behind that man? He deliberately said some nasty things to provoke you, then lured you to his side, and took the opportunity to smash all those jars, claiming that you broke his goods. That way, all the unsold goods could be pinned on you at once. Even if you don't have the money to pay for them, they'll detain you and make you do hard labor, or they might even secretly sell you into slavery... In short, people outside are ruthless. If you act impulsively, you'll fall into their trap."

The young man shuddered, finally understanding the old man's meaning... but a moment later, his brows furrowed again, and veins bulged on his forehead:

"What a bunch of damn bastards! Now I'm even more eager to go back and find a chance to teach them a lesson... I'll set their house on fire in the middle of the night!"

Ferdianto was furious, while Bevis simply smiled and stroked his beard.

"You don't need to worry too much... Their business certainly won't last long. Don't forget those half-heads hanging in the trees. There are Imperial troops stationed nearby—they won't allow anyone to cause trouble in newly conquered territory... Maybe the next time you go home you'll see their dried bones hanging in the trees... Ah, I almost forgot, the Imperials don't leave corpses hanging outside indefinitely. They're worried about disease. What an enlightened and prudent decision! Before this, many people wouldn't even realize this. They would only complain about their bad luck or curse the witches they suspected when disease struck."

The old man seemed quite emotional, perhaps recalling his past experiences, while Ferdiant had already put his hand to his eyes, gazing into the distance, and soon exclaimed with some surprise:

"Ah, we're almost there. Just a little further on is the only tavern between here and the next city. We need to get some water and food there. Otherwise, we'll go hungry halfway there. We also need to feed the donkey some hay and give it some water... Uh... Old man, why are you pulling me?"

Bivis's face turned serious at this moment, like a fox seeing a wolf blocking its path, his cunning concealing fierceness and determination:

"Get out of the way. Kid, something's not right up ahead."

Ferdiant was taken aback, but without hesitation, he followed the old man and the donkey into the bushes by the roadside, where the two of them hid and looked out at the small tavern in the distance.

Soon, he realized something—the tavern was unremarkable, but there was a row of horses parked in the stables outside. Although they weren't the tall, fine breeds, they were strong and their coats were glossy and smooth. Most importantly, none of the horses had any cargo on their backs, nor anything to tie them down. They only had saddles for one person to ride on. This was definitely not a caravan.

If it weren't a caravan, how could an ordinary traveler possibly acquire so many horses? What would they be after? Not to mention the expense of properly feeding and caring for the horses. It also doesn't make sense if it were a nobleman traveling; they often value appearances and prefer riding tall, magnificent horses. These simple, durable ponies would typically only be favored by their servants… In short, the people riding these horses are definitely not ordinary people, and they must have some purpose in coming here.

Bivis frowned and quickly made a decision:

“We have to go around there, kid, they might be here to get me.”

"Arrest you? Why?"

“I’ll tell you later… but you have another option: turn around and leave now. I’ve told you that coming with me will expose you to countless dangers. This might be one of them. You could lose your life in the blink of an eye. I’ve been through this all these years. You don’t need to put yourself in that kind of danger. It’s not too late to turn back.”

"Let's not talk about anything else now." The young man didn't waver for a moment. "Haven't you been doing this all these years? I don't believe you can't handle this situation. Hurry up and come up with a plan, old man! I don't want to die here with only one day left before I leave home."

The old man smiled helplessly, then tugged at his sleeve:

“I already told you, we’ll go around them… Sprinkle this on yourselves, and they won’t be able to smell us.”

A small glass bottle filled with shimmering golden powder was placed in his hand; it looked quite beautiful. The old man, however, had already opened another bottle and poured the powder over his head, spreading the glittering dust evenly over his clothes. He then poured some for the donkey beside him as well.

“I’ve escaped from them dozens of times, so I’ve figured things out a bit. Let’s take a slightly longer route and go straight to the road ahead. As for food and water, we can buy some from other villages. There’s no need to risk going there.”

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

The damp stone was covered in moss, and stepping on it rashly would be reckless. So the young man carefully steered the dull-witted donkey around the round, green stone, while also pulling its restless mouth away from nibbling at the tender leaves nearby, forcibly dragging the donkey along the rugged forest path.

The animal clearly didn't want to move around here, constantly pulling and tugging at him. Although it hadn't reached the point of completely turning against him, it still exhausted him, leaving him sweating profusely and panting heavily, making him want to kick the animal a couple of times.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the forest, dappling the damp grass. Every speck of dust in the light was clearly visible, flitting about like tiny flying insects. Everything around was a vibrant, almost blinding green, yet under the sunlight, it was refreshing and soothing… If they weren’t busy evading a threat, this place would be quite beautiful.

Panting, he took another step forward, and the donkey finally gave up resisting and began to follow him. This caused the reins in his hand to suddenly slip forward, and he, who was completely unprepared, was about to fall backward to the ground. He quickly stretched out his left hand to avoid disaster, but he still ended up with a hand full of mud.

"That should be about right, old man. We've definitely bypassed that section of road. Let's go a little further and then we'll be on our way."

He complained impatiently to the person ahead, but the old man walking in front didn't even turn his head:

"Not yet, we need to walk a little further... at least halfway, to make a big enough detour to shake off any potential pursuers. You may not know their capabilities, but I do, so be patient."

The dew on the branches and leaves had long since dried, but the forest was still teeming with insects and ants. A line of black ants, each the size of a fingernail, was climbing up a tree trunk from the ground, carrying down a torn butterfly. A plump millipede darted through a crack in the nearby rocks, its amber and black segments gleaming like steel. The damp leaves on the ground were squeezed dry by their shoes with each step. In the humid air, mosquitoes kept staring at their exposed skin, yearning for a warm, bloody feast.

"Alright, you can stop now."

A strange voice suddenly boomed through the jungle. Ferdiant's hand jerked, and his right hand gripped the short sword at his waist. He instinctively wanted to hide behind the donkey—this guy had made him struggle for so long, it was time for him to put up a good fight.

The steel pressed silently against his neck, its cold, sharp feel instantly freezing him in place. The person behind him then reached out and cut the strap holding the short sword, calmly disarming him. The sword, however, remained at his neck.

A man with a resolute and rugged face suddenly appeared in front of them. His hard leather vest was covered with grass and his hair was covered with scattered leaves and weeds. He held a greatsword that was almost as tall as a man in his hand. None of them had seen how or where this man had hidden himself, or even noticed any signs. It was as if he had grown out of the ground.

"Put down that bottle in your hand, sir. We're not here to hurt you... so don't spill what's inside. I know it could kill me in an instant, but we don't need to do something that stupid."

Volume 1: The Moment of Victory

426 Encounter (2)

The forest is relatively cool, and the sun cannot penetrate the land too much, which makes the water evaporate very slowly. When you step on the dead branches, fallen leaves, soil and stones, you can feel a dampness rising up your trouser legs. Staying here will only result in being bitten by swarms of mosquitoes, but you won't sweat much... Of course, that's under normal circumstances.

Sweat soaked his forehead, making his slightly curly short hair look like a tangled ball of wool. The damp, stifling heat was incredibly uncomfortable, but he dared not wipe the sweat from his forehead even for a moment, because the cold steel, about to sever his skin, was still there. He almost had the illusion that his neck had already been cut open. Goosebumps rose on the skin around the steel from the chilling air, but he remained as still as a block of iron, afraid that before anyone could even do anything to him, his movement would sever his neck.

The old man standing in front of him had unknowingly grasped three glass bottles in his right hand, each bottle stopper connected to a cotton thread held in his left hand. With a gentle pull, he could release the contents of all three bottles... But the old man dared not make a move, because to their left, one person had silently drawn a longbow, and another stood beside him with a drawn crossbow... In the blink of an eye, the two of them were already in a deadly situation.

He was so panicked he dared not move, while the old man remained calm, as if he believed that these three bottles alone could get him out of his predicament, or at worst, he could take the man before him down with him... and in fact, that was exactly what happened:

"Please have your companion remove the sword from that young man's neck, sir, and don't come any closer, or I might have to open the bottle to save my own life... You may know that what's inside is deadly, but you don't know exactly how deadly."

The old man's rough fingers slowly rotated the three cotton threads, tightening them slightly and causing the yellow, white, and purple powders in the three bottles to shake.

"Each of these three materials alone is not enough to kill a person, but when they are mixed together in the air, they will instantly form a toxic gas that spreads for dozens of meters around. At that point, nothing in this area will be able to move and survive, not even an ant or a mosquito; only plants and fungi will remain."

"No matter how skilled you are, you will all die when it comes to that. So please don't do anything that might mislead me... Since you say you came with good intentions, please express those good intentions. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to do things my way."

"Don't panic, sir. We're not trying to threaten you with weapons. You see... you've been too reckless and attracted a big one."

The atmosphere instantly became extremely tense, but Saratag, who had been running through the forest for half a day, showed no sign of panic. He even smiled calmly, pointed behind the old man and the young man, then suddenly pulled his hand back and whistled. At the same moment, his two companions beside him also released arrows, but not at the two of them. Instead, the arrows landed directly in the bushes behind them.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the bushes behind them. The old man turned around in surprise, but his fingers remained firmly in his grasp. He then saw a solid, brown figure, as sturdy as a mound, push through the grass and rush out. With a terrifying pant, its thick, wide claws crushed the dry branches and leaves on the ground with a series of cracking sounds. Broad-bladed barbed arrows and heavy crossbow bolts, piercing its flesh, were constantly churning its internal organs, causing it to roar in pain.

Saratag had already taken down the longbow, which was as tall as a man, from his back. The bow's limbs were as thick as a baby's arm, and its cross-section was a flat, round "d" shape that gradually narrowed from the middle to the sides. The antler bow tip at the very end, used to hold the string and for reinforcement, came from a strong stag. The bow back was lined with a layer of sinew as thick as a little finger, wrapped in moisture-proof birch bark and varnish. The bow handle was wrapped with a brass snake head, just like two taut snakes intertwined, ready to pounce. He also took a black arrow, as thick as a finger, from the scabbard on his back and nocked it on the string.

When he drew back the longbow, his taut, broad arms were like Hercules lifting a mountain from the ground. His clothes and chainmail were stretched taut, pulling the bow into a taut C-shape. His outstretched index finger stroked the arrowhead. With the next breath, the longbow trembled back to its original arc. The bear in the distance, which was about to burrow into the depths of the jungle, collapsed to the ground and instantly turned into a pile of dead flesh, without even uttering a scream.

Only then did the stunned Ferdiant finally realize what had happened, while the man standing on the high place calmly slung his bow behind his back.

“This is the only village with human habitation within dozens of miles around. It’s not safe to go deeper into the forest. You were only thinking about avoiding that section of the road, but you didn’t notice that the bear had its eyes on you… Especially that kid over there, your donkey is much more alert than you. That’s why it was stubbornly refusing to come in, and then it was dragging you away to leave as soon as possible… But I guess the bear was probably attracted here by that donkey.”

Saratag took two steps forward and jumped off the rock, walking fearlessly to the old man, grinning like a wolf:

"How about it, sir? Now you should be able to trust me, right? Maybe you can listen to me talk to you properly. Of course, you can also hold onto your bottle, as long as that puts your mind at ease."

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

Night had fallen, and the wood in the campfire crackled and popped. A small pot, suspended by three branches, was bubbling with bear meat. A whole, wet pelt had been stripped off and laid out on a nearby rock to dry. Saratag was tasting the broth with a wooden spoon. Three of his men had scattered into the surrounding forest to keep watch, while the others sat with him around the campfire, occasionally talking quietly and tending to their bows and weapons.

Saratag smacked his lips after shoveling a mouthful of broth into his mouth, then frowned.

"What's wrong with my palate, being in the Empire? Why does this meat, cooked with a little salt, taste so fishy? It's making my tongue feel uncomfortable."

"Because it's inherently fishy."

A middle-aged man nearby, who was oiling his sword, chuckled and twitched his reddish-brown mustache:

"Bear meat is inherently quite smelly and pungent. It's just that we haven't eaten much good food in the past, and this guy's meat is particularly juicy, so it's quite satisfying to eat. Once we've truly enjoyed the exquisite cuisine in the Empire, we'll definitely look down on this rough preparation. Only those noble lords who are used to eating big fish and meat would be curious about this novel taste. But for us, we still have the opportunity to eat it from time to time."

"Black Usachi! How did you become a cultured man? You can even put together a reasoned argument... I roughly understand the gist of it, but I can't explain it as clearly as you do."

One of his companions immediately exclaimed in surprise, while the middle-aged man named Black Usachi simply chuckled:

"There are places where you can learn a lot, but you guys just don't care."

This remark sparked another round of chatter among the crowd, while Saratag was busy scooping stewed bear meat from the pot and serving one to each of the old man and the young man beside him.

"Try this. The conditions are limited, so I only added a little salt and wild green onions, but at least it's a bite of meat. It should be enough to fill your stomach. If you eat a bowl of this, you won't be hungry until noon tomorrow."

"Ah...thank you."

Ferdiant timidly reached out and took the bowl, even somewhat afraid to look at the man in front of him. The man's performance of shooting down a bear with an arrow was so dazzling that he was still in a state of shock... After all, it is well known that bears are strong, fierce, cruel and cunning beasts. Normally, to hunt such a big guy, at least a dozen hunters with hunting dogs, spears, bows and arrows are needed to be fully prepared before they can take action. But now, he was shot down by one person with an arrow, as easily as shooting down a deer.

The bear meat soup in the bowl did indeed have a strong, noticeable fishy smell, but it couldn't mask the irresistible aroma of the stewed meat. He had been running around all day without eating anything and was starving. After confirming that the bear was a friend, not a foe, he felt even more at ease. He scooped a piece of meat out with his spoon and put it in his mouth, savoring the satisfying sensation of the melting fat flowing through his tongue.

"Thank you."

The old man also took the bowl, appearing calm and composed. However, instead of eating immediately, he asked:

"So, my mysterious sir, now you can tell me how you came to suspect an old man like me, right? Since you have no connection with those people, you shouldn't know this, and you also know that I carry highly toxic drugs... Very few people would know this. Even if they investigated, they would only find out that I am just an ordinary doctor who sells herbs."

"Ah, this is very simple."

Saratag fished a bone covered in meat from the pot, took a quarter of it in one bite, and mumbled indistinctly as he chewed:

“Miss Talina—does this name sound familiar?”

The old man's hand jerked violently, spilling the broth onto his wrist, and a look of surprise immediately appeared on his face, which he could no longer conceal:

"Talina! Talina sent you!?... How could that girl possibly afford to hire elite mercenaries like you? Someone like you could earn at least 60 gold flaves a year here. Lords everywhere want to hire warriors like you to fight for them... Although there are no lords here anymore."

The old man seemed completely bewildered, while Saratag continued to drop his bombshell news:

“That’s quite simple. We’re not mercenaries at all; we’re soldiers of the Imperial Legion… And I’m now certain that Miss Talina is indeed your apprentice. So I can tell you that Miss Talina is no longer the village doctor she used to be. She’s now the chief advisor to the Imperial Commander, Elder, and Governor Tersolius. The orders we received were directly from Lord Tersolius. The Eagle Division tracked you down here, so we were sent to investigate. Once we confirm that it really is you, we’ll bring you to the Empire… This is also Miss Talina’s wish.”

The old man fell into a long silence, his expression shifting unpredictably. After a long while, he let out a soft sigh.

"Perhaps this is how fate has arranged things... You know, sir, even if you hadn't come, I was planning to go to the Empire to take a look, and I had even planned out the route."

"Haha, that's alright. It's good that we're catching up and can protect you. This journey is definitely not very safe. You can rest assured if you take our route. Besides, it will definitely be much faster than the two of you leading a donkey slowly."

He had gnawed the meaty bone clean and tossed it casually into the campfire. The remaining fat crackled and popped in the flames, but he was already rummaging in the pot again, quickly pulling out another meaty bone. The tendons wrapped around it were already tender and juicy, steaming in the firelight.

"By the way, there's something else I'm curious about, sir. May I ask you about it?"

"Of course, what would you like to know?"

He tore a large chunk of muscle and tendon off the bone, chewed it in his mouth, and the fat and tender tendon effectively neutralized the dryness of the lean meat, making him squint his eyes as he ate.

"It's those three bottles of yours. If you throw all three bottles together, they'll produce poisonous gas that can kill everything within a few dozen meters. How are you supposed to survive in that situation? You can't just go down with them every time you encounter one, can you?"

"Hehe... It's quite simple. The three bottles have different effects. The first bottle produces a strong anesthetic effect, making your limbs stiff like a dead person. The second bottle can melt the nerves of living beings, so even insects cannot survive under that toxin. The drug in the third bottle will have the most terrifying catalytic and diffusion effects on the first two. Under normal circumstances, I will only throw out the first two as a countermeasure, so it is not easy to hurt myself. But if I really encounter a desperate situation that I cannot get out of, then all three bottles can be used."

The old man had a kind smile on his face, but those around him felt a chill run down their spines as they watched him stroke his beard.

Take a day off.

The author has an exam tomorrow, so updates will be suspended for today (||?_?). I need to prepare properly, and updates should resume normally tomorrow night.

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427 Encounter (3)