Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

"Hmm? Why? We've already come this far, and we'll be entering the Empire's territory tomorrow. Why are we suddenly changing direction? Has our destination changed?"

Although the question was phrased as a question, the old man didn't seem too surprised. He kept looking diagonally upwards, whether at the tree or at the wide expanse of rain and mist behind it and the bottomless gorge...

“There have indeed been changes—” Saratag raised his fingers and rubbed his eyes:

"This is the instruction we received before we set off... If we encounter any special circumstances during the escort, we must immediately change our route and head to another rendezvous point, where someone will also be there to meet us. It will just take half a day longer and be more discreet."

The old man turned his head:

"I think it's inappropriate for me to know the specifics of this unusual situation?"

Saratag nodded steadily.

"I really can't disclose that, sir. After all, there are many things we need to guard against, and we have to be careful. I believe you can understand."

“I have no objection, nor am I in a hurry, Mr. Saratag. For me, as long as I can spend the rest of my life going to the places I must go and seeing the things I must see, I will have no regrets... There is just one thing I hope you can promise.”

The mountain man raised his eyebrows in surprise:

"Please speak, sir."

"...Regarding the young man who traveled with me, I hope the Empire can spare his life. This young man is a passionate and studious person. Although he always likes to explore dangerous things that he shouldn't know, he should not be executed like a criminal."

Bevis fell completely silent, only its thick, neatly trimmed beard trembling slightly with the movement of speaking, stirring the mountain mists. Everything in its perception seemed cold and lonely.

"To tell you the truth, sir."

Saratag smiled and shook his head:

"No matter what, he does know a lot of things. I did have that thought at the beginning... to get rid of him and end it all, but that was just a fleeting thought. I haven't reached that point where I'd stop at nothing."

"What fate awaits this young man is up to him... After all, he chose to embark on this journey himself, and ultimately he must walk it on his own. This is the same for every young man. If you don't take advantage of your youth to make your mark, are you going to wait until you're old, weak, and your teeth have fallen out?"

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

Pretzels are a common food in Western countries. These round, reddish-brown foods, specially baked, are quite durable and can be stored for two or three months without getting wet. They are one of the most frequently made types of food by bakers here.

Whether it's a traveler on their journey or a citizen finishing a day's work, this is always a staple on their tables. Those who are particularly well-off and wealthy will even dip it in honey, showcasing their extraordinary luxury in the smallest details.

In some places, this food is shaped into a beautiful figure eight, allowing the dough to be shaped while still in its raw state... Of course, this doesn't produce any real effect, it just looks a bit more fancy, at least to him at this moment.

The pretzels, now dry and hard, were being smoked by the flames, their reddish-brown crusts gleaming with the unique sheen of oil. As the flames heated them, they gradually regained their aroma and softness. Once they were evenly toasted, he couldn't wait to pick one up and pop it into his mouth.

The baked pastry is very crispy, and the chopped walnuts and nuts sprinkled on it are the perfect finishing touch. Add a sip of hot soup, and it's simply perfect.

Unfortunately, he had no soup to drink except for the boiling water in a metal pot. Even the small campfire had to be carefully hidden in a narrow mountain crevice and extinguished before nightfall to avoid attracting unwanted attention with its bright light.

He put the chopped pine needles into the boiling water—a method he had learned from an old hunter, which could not only add flavor to the water but also soothe his stomach, and the raw materials were readily available everywhere.

The tarpaulin hanging overhead could deflect any possible rainwater to the side, and apart from having to endure the mountain winds from time to time, he was quite comfortable here... at least for himself.

The pungent aroma of pine trees filled the boiling water, and the pretzel in his hand had been chewed to pieces, with even the last crumbs falling into his stomach.

Looking out from the crevice in the cliff, the fog was so thick that even light couldn't get through. From time to time, the calls of birds and monkeys could be heard, extremely long and far-reaching, as if they were falling from the sky. He felt as if he had been isolated from the world.

He genuinely enjoyed this state of being, savoring this rare and exhilarating freedom and tranquility. The noise and bloodshed of the world had nothing to do with him; all that remained for him was this small patch of peace.

After taking a couple of sips of hot tea, he stood up, used a stick to stir up the dust, and buried the embers left for tomorrow. At the same time, he yawned loudly, feeling a bit more relaxed. He then noticed that the fog outside had dissipated somewhat.

It was this casual glance that suddenly and appropriately shattered his current calm, causing him to quickly roll up his sleeves and rush out, his expression turning somewhat surprised.

On that steep slope covered with fine pebbles, a slender wooden pole lay unremarkably buried. At that moment, a large bird with gray feathers and a red crest stood on it, preening its wings. Its feathers shimmered with a unique iridescent sheen in the sunlight, and its long, tender red beak was like a sharp nail, without the slightest bend.

He arrived at the wooden pole, and the steep, gravelly slope did not hinder his movement at all. Not many stones were even slipped off his boots. At this moment, his eyes were only on the large bird with black feathers and a red crest.

430 Encounter (6)

By the third drop of blood, two heads had been neatly severed from their necks. Warm blood splattered in the narrow passage, and the silver-green blade drew an arc in the air, as beautiful as a shooting star flashing across the sky.

With a deft flick of his fingers, he changed the grip from reverse to upright, and blood flowed rapidly from the blade tip at a visible speed, quickly restoring the two emerald green blades to their original shine, as if they had never cut into flesh.

The sewers are dark and damp, but they don't smell bad—because this pear is not the main sewer for city residents to discharge sewage, garbage and excrement. Instead, it is a branch that was dug out as a base. It is cleaned regularly, but because it is underground, it is difficult to keep dry. At the same time, it has a wide, complicated and cumbersome network of passages.

People unfamiliar with the terrain would easily get lost here, but for her, finding her way here doesn't even require light. She can accurately determine her location simply by touching the walls with her hands, making her the most deadly hunter in the darkness.

Walking slowly and calmly forward, blood was slowly dripping from the oiled black robe. The viscous, semi-coagulated blood plasma stretched into fine threads with each lift of the boots. The pungent smell of blood filled every corner of the place, making it impossible to avoid.

As she took her 27th step, the seemingly sturdy wooden plank above her shattered, revealing a sharp blade coated in black tar that obscured the cold glint of steel. In a flash, it pierced her head, intending to pierce her skull. At the same time, a black-clad figure attacked from a narrow, rectangular black hole in the wall beside her, aiming for her side ribs and intending to pierce her heart.

In the darkness, the silvery-green blade began to leap again, spinning twice as nimbly as a firefly, leaving behind beautiful splatters of blood and a crisp, melodious sound of flesh being pierced... When her blade stopped, two severed corpses crashed to the ground, blood dripping from their wounds. The instantaneous poison had even extinguished the body's last instinctive reactions, leaving only pitifully small twitches.

He took five more steps forward, and without even turning his head, he waved his hand behind him. A cold glint flashed in the darkness, and a corpse lying at the top of the passage crashed down. A sharp triangular cone, about two fingers long, was drawing blood from his neck.

The finest swamp leather boots were covered in blood plasma, but it couldn't penetrate the waterproof and breathable leather. Even on specially treated black robes, most of the blood plasma would slide off to prevent excessive blood pooling and hindrance to the user.

She spun forward like a dancer, and at the same time, the person hiding behind the pillar had his throat cut open, including half of his hand that he instinctively used to shield his neck. The splattered blood instantly covered half the wall, while her clothes had moved away from this place and she began to enter the third left turn passage.

Entering an already unsafe area rashly would undoubtedly be reckless, and her experience undoubtedly proved her previous suspicions... In this capital city, there has been a traitor among His Majesty's henchmen—nothing could be worse or more troublesome than this, and she must immediately gather enough intelligence to confirm the identity of the traitor.

None of the attackers she had just encountered met this requirement, so she needed to continue deeper until she found a valuable target... Moreover, with such a traitor among her men, she herself bore responsibility, and even if it was just to prove her loyalty and resolve to the emperor, she needed to resolve this matter as soon as possible.

She could roughly guess when this matter had been brewing and unfolding—His Majesty had already sensed the undercurrents before this and, to be on the safe side, sent her to deliver a letter to the Consul of Tersolius in the south. Through the channels of his henchmen, she spent very little time, but it was still enough to become a flaw that could be exploited.

Now she wasn't even sure which of her subordinates she could still trust... The scene before her was enough to make her doubt everyone... She needed more intelligence, enough intelligence to understand and analyze the current situation.

The silver-green light dancing in the darkness took a life with each rise and fall, and she never stopped moving forward, killing as she went, killing anyone who stood in her way. The pile of corpses behind her was enough to serve as a bloody symbol, marking that she had once passed through this place.

After pinning the last obstacle, who was holding a crossbow, to the wall with a sharp blade, a very spacious room came into view. The heavy wooden doors of the room had been opened, revealing rows of bookshelves filled with parchment scrolls and books.

She gently wiped the blood off the blade, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then walked in without hesitation.

From beginning to end, she had a clear goal, and she was also very certain that the person she needed was here, and she believed that no one could stop her from taking him away.

Just as she had expected, five steps into the room, the door behind her slammed shut, and dozens of people emerged from the shadows created by the flames, surrounding her. Gleaming poisoned crossbow bolts were aimed at her vital points from all directions.

"What a cliché and stupid trap."

She gently shook her head, reversed her grip on the two sharp blades, and held the long, slender blades, as fierce as venomous snake fangs, close to the back of her forearms. She turned to look at the stairs on her left, where a tall, dark figure slowly emerged.

"But you still stepped in, didn't you? Just as I know you... You couldn't risk losing the emperor's trust by missing this opportunity; it's a constraint you have to be in this position."

The shadowy figure was finally exposed in the firelight, revealing a black robe identical to hers, along with a gray short jacket underneath. Her short hair, which reached all the way to her ears, had slightly curled ends and took on a restrained brown hue in the firelight.

This was a man who appeared quite gentle and learned. Unlike her, he did not have a face mask on, revealing a face with distinct features and smooth skin. The corners of his eyes drooped, giving him a gentle and kind feeling, while the corners of his mouth were slightly pursed, making his lips appear somewhat harsh and pale.

He even carefully trimmed his beard, leaving a triangular shape at the sideburns, while the rest of his beard circled his lips in the shape of the Chinese character "口" (mouth), protruding upwards only at the chin.

"...Just as I guessed, Sosgraya, it was indeed you who betrayed the Empire."

Her voice had become dangerous, and a kind of cold and sharp oppressive feeling began to spread silently in the hearts of everyone around, like being wrapped around the neck by a venomous snake, causing many people's hands to tremble involuntarily.

"Please allow me to refute your statement, my lord. I have never betrayed the empire, only the current emperor. Moreover, an emperor has already accepted my loyalty. In any case, my betrayal should not be directed at the empire."

The blade in her hand began to slowly rotate, deftly twirling and dancing around her fingers like two butterflies with green wings.

"I don't want to waste time with your nonsense, but I'm still interested to know why you betrayed us... There has to be a reason, or are you just a madman who doesn't understand what this means?"

"His Majesty is the most prestigious emperor in the entire history of the empire. Where do you get the confidence that you can overthrow such a monarch? I can now give you a prophecy, a prophecy of utter devastation—"

Her gaze swept across everyone in the room, from left to right and from right to left.

“Your next step will be death itself, just like every heinous criminal.”

The man nodded calmly, showing no sign of anger, and then suddenly said something completely unrelated:

"Speaking of which, what is your name, sir? I've heard that no one has ever seen your face, nor do they know who you really are... I'm afraid only His Majesty knows your true identity."

“What you just said is all correct, except for one point—the current His Majesty does indeed have the greatest prestige and wields far more power than ever before… If we were to confront him head-on, we would naturally have no chance of winning and would only end up in a miserable state.”

"But such a powerful emperor naturally has countless enemies in this country. She seized power from elsewhere, which naturally aroused the hatred of many people. This gave us a precious opportunity. The biggest weakness of the emperor's faction is precisely in the capital of this empire."

"...I can't say anything more now, after all, it would be a foolish decision to let you know too much, so it's time to say goodbye... You are far too dangerous, so we don't even dare to ask you to surrender."

As soon as he finished speaking, the hounds around him, each holding a crossbow, pulled the trigger in unison, unleashing a dense barrage that covered the center of the room. Powerful crossbow bolts pierced through the bookshelves and into the floor, the sound of tearing books echoing continuously. The figure standing in the center of the room was riddled with holes, his black robe riddled with rips.

Sosgraya narrowed his eyes, watching the scene before him with extreme vigilance. The others were equally afraid to breathe, some even trembling so much that they could barely hold their crossbows... Only now did they truly have no way out, for they had personally shot and killed the emperor's henchman leader with their crossbows, thus becoming true rebels.

Now, they only have one path to follow; there are no more forks in the road or ways to retreat...

A wisp of black smoke drifted in from the center of the room, like the ash that rises when straw burns out. He didn't pay attention at first, but then it suddenly dawned on him—this data storage room is cleaned every day, so where would such dirty ash come from?!

Almost the instant the thought crossed his mind, he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, followed by slender yet strong fingers slowly pressing against his muscles and bones. A voice he knew all too well softly sounded behind him:

"You were decisive, but now I'm certain you know a lot... but you clearly don't know me well enough. Did you really think you could kill me with such simple methods?"

Sosgraya didn't even turn his head; he gripped the dagger in his hand and stabbed behind him with such decisiveness and speed that even the most agile bird couldn't dodge it... but birds only appear clumsy in the face of such an opponent.

Black smoke suddenly billowed out from behind him, instantly obscuring all vision, and the dagger pierced through it in vain. A cold, silvery-green glint then erupted from within.

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

The woods were cool and fresh in the early morning. The dew from last night had accumulated on the grass and was slowly falling away. Early birds perched on the branches and chirped crisply, while the noisy insects of the night fell silent and went into their burrows to rest.

Such mornings are perfect for traveling. Travelers who have just rested overnight can enjoy the coolest environment and the most abundant energy, making their travel efficiency far greater than when it is hot and tiring, and even their mood is exceptionally different.

Horse-drawn carriages on the road were not very comfortable. After all, the solid wood-wrapped iron wheels and the lack of a shock absorption system meant that riding in a carriage in this era meant enduring a considerable degree of bumpiness. However, compared to riding a horse, it did not require the rider to have any skills, and it was easier and more energy-efficient, making it more popular among people who were not physically strong.

Thesolius closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the carriage, tapping his fingers idly on the wood beside him, listening to the occasional shouts of the driver and the quiet chatter of the girls beside him.

The carriage's window panes were meticulously crafted into a hollowed-out moon pattern, allowing a view of the outside world. The hounds following the carriage acted quite normally and naturally, communicating in the local dialect. They switched between different styles effortlessly at each location, making it difficult even for locals to discern anything unusual about them. The carriages behind were also deliberately piled with goods, making them look like a merchant caravan.

Such disguise is quite excellent...neither too understated nor too conspicuous, just like most businessmen, easily blending into the crowd and making it difficult to attract the attention of others.

They had already covered more than half the distance, and in another day he would be able to see the towering towers and city walls of the imperial capital. The turbulence of the long journey was nothing to him; now he was only worried about the future situation.

The trees on both sides of the road became increasingly lush and green; they were about to enter a section of road with dense trees.

431 Scheme (1)

Caravans on the road are always weary and exhausted. For these merchants, the faster they reach their destination, the more advantageous it is for them. After all, less time spent on the road means they can handle their goods more calmly, save on the cost of food and supplies for their people and horses, and ensure that the information they have gathered is not outdated. Therefore, they rarely stop in places other than their destination, unless that place can make them money.

The town of Tosaris welcomed such a caravan today. The entire caravan consisted of only a few dozen people and five carriages. They arrived in a hurry just as the sun was setting, and, covered in dust, they settled in the town's post station to sort out the goods, feed the horses, and rest early. After having dinner, they had already extinguished the lights.

This was perfectly normal, since they had to get up early to set off the next day and needed to be well-rested. So no one cared, and the people in the town went about their business as usual. After it got completely dark, most of the lights were turned off, except for the militiamen patrolling the streets who kept their torches and braziers burning to prevent any unscrupulous people from doing anything under the cover of night.

In the cleanest and most spacious room of the inn, Thesolius sat with his eyes closed in a chair, his fingers tapping on the armrest. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting bright, icy shadows in front of him, while he sat in the darkness just a step away from this light, his fingers stroking the hilt of his sword.

This was not the sword he usually used, but a new knife he had picked out from his collection. The decorations were not so ornate, but the blade was made of fine McCann steel with a beautiful pattern like water ripples. It gradually tapered from the middle of the blade towards the tip, forming an elegant upward curve at the end. The back of the blade had a four-inch reverse edge, which was engraved with feather patterns.

The hilt is carved in the shape of an extended ear of wheat, while the handle is wrapped in soft leather, divided in the middle by a ring woven with silver wire, and the end is a dragon head that curves upwards, so that it will not slip from your hand even when you are riding a warhorse and slashing up and down.

He stood there in the moonlight, repeatedly looking at the slightly gleaming blade in his hand, rubbing the edge with his fingers, feeling the sharpness of the blade cutting through his skin, and testing the condition of the blade with just the right amount of force.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from behind, the sound of fabric rubbing against each other, but it stopped immediately after a short while, and then started again after a long time, with unease and shyness hiding in it.

“I told you to get some rest, Talina, but don’t fall into a deep sleep. The closer we get to the capital, the more careful we need to be…”

Behind them, on the bed, lay the blankets they had brought, and Talina hesitated before peeking her head out to look at Tersolius, who sat before the moonlight:

"...My lord, aren't you going to rest?"

"I'll rest here."

Thesolius stroked the blade, then flicked it lightly with his index finger, sending a crisp metallic clang echoing through half the room. He then gently inserted the blade, up and down, into the wooden floor.

“You’re not used to this yet, but I’ve done it many times on the march. The worst time was when I was sleeping under a tree and a lizard crawled into my neck and bit me. It took me a lot of effort to get it out and kill it.”

The girl was silent for a moment, then raised her head and asked firmly:

"Will there be any danger tonight, sir?"

"Hmm?...Why would you think that?"

Tarina crawled out of the covers, revealing her upper body. Her thin silk dress, with its ruffled lace trim, was secured to her smooth, rounded shoulders with two straps, exposing her defined collarbones and full curves. Her long, silky hair cascaded down her shoulders and neck, and her neatly trimmed hair partially obscured her eyes.

"Because you look like you're about to kill someone, there should be bloodshed tonight."

Thesolius couldn't help but chuckle, but it was fleeting, like a sneeze. He then shook his head somewhat helplessly, the smile still lingering on his lips.

"To be honest, I don't know either, girl, I don't know either... but I'm used to being prepared... although only a close-fitting suit of chainmail makes me feel a little thin."

The girl's voice now carried a hint of a smile. She simply wriggled out of bed, slipped her shoes on the floor, and sat down on the bed.

"Because you, sir, usually cover yourself in iron and are always ready to charge into battle, you naturally feel that the chainmail wrapped in your clothes lacks a sense of security... But for someone like me who usually wears only cloth, this chainmail provides a great sense of security. At least I know that even if someone stands behind me with a dagger, I will have a chance to deal with it."

As she spoke, the girl patted the neatly folded chainmail she had placed beside her. The silver chain links were now piled up and folded, looking even thinner than an outer garment. It could be unfolded by simply pinching the top and shaking it, and then put on like a piece of clothing over one's head.

Thesolius smiled as he slid the blade along the floor to his right, then slightly stretched his shoulders, giving his stiff muscles and bones a chance to relax.

"Don't laugh, that's based on experience... Let me tell you a story, a story from my time in the army... You two, stop leaning against the wall, come in and listen."

A muffled thud suddenly came from the walls on either side of the bedroom door, like someone's head hitting a wooden board. This was followed by hurried footsteps and frantic bumping and shoving, as if two large cats had been left next door.

Tarina blinked in surprise, and after a while, two golden heads peeked in sheepishly and slowly moved along the wall to the two chairs near the door.