Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Colin carried his longbow on his shoulder, a quiver on his back, and a short sword at his waist, while Karila had two battle axes on her belt and a crescent-bladed axe, nearly half a person's height, in her hand. The cold glint of chainmail shone through their robes, and they were trying their best to keep a serious expression on their faces.

Tesolius shook his head, somewhat amused and exasperated. He then carefully tucked a strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead back behind his head before leaning back in his chair, raising his eyes, and beginning to organize his thoughts.

The two girls didn't dare to look up, especially with Talina's strange gaze making their faces burn. But they had nowhere to retreat and could only pretend nothing had happened and that they knew nothing.

"That was in my second year of military service. The legion was facing off against the Kiel in the north. One night, I received a mission to take 20 cavalrymen to scout a hillside next to a forest to prevent the enemy from ambushing us there."

In the quiet of the night, only Thesolius’s deep voice resonated in the air as the three girls were completely absorbed in his story… They almost simultaneously realized that this was a rare opportunity—Thesolius had taken the initiative to talk to them about his past.

"This mission sounds dangerous, but in reality, the risk isn't that great. After all, the Kiel hadn't suffered the disaster yet and were still able to survive. That time was just a test to try and take advantage of them. The forces we gathered were already insufficient, so we probably won't encounter any ambushes there. Even if we do, there won't be many of them."

"Even if we are caught by their scouts, we can easily get away. After all, the 20 men I brought are all skilled, and one of them, a guy with a full beard and green eyes, is the most formidable. We also have excellent armor to protect us. As long as we are clever, we can easily finish this job."

"I still remember that guy's name. His name was Shervi. He came from the Khanso province. He once strangled two bandits with his bare hands. When he rode a horse, he was as steady as if his buttocks were rooted to the ground. When he wielded a sword, three or five veterans couldn't even get close to him. I'm probably the only one in the whole squad who could make this guy submit."

“We set off at midnight and arrived at our target location in the early morning. We had wrapped the horses’ hooves and brought bridles. We were well prepared and successfully scouted the area, searching every corner of the forest.”

"But when we were leaving, we were caught by the enemy's scouts. We fought a little and cut off four or five heads before calmly retreating. By the time the Kiel's reinforcements arrived, we had already run more than twenty miles away, and the blood on our knives had dried."

“At the time, we all felt that we had completed the task efficiently and that no one was missing from the headcount. That is, until I found that Schervi was not moving on his horse. When I pushed him, he rolled off the saddle and lay on the ground, not moving at all.”

"Then, we pulled off the man's clothes to treat his wounds, only to find a broken arrow stuck in his back—the arrowhead was made of rusty iron, with a wide barb, and it had penetrated all the way into his lung, with only two inches protruding from the outside."

"The reason that arrow was able to penetrate was quite simple: he wasn't wearing his own back armor. Our armor consists of two pieces, front and back, but he found both pieces cumbersome and thought that the front piece was enough, so he secretly didn't wear it without telling me... And with just this oversight, he died, a rather pathetic and boring death."

"Luck was on our side during that mission, but we forgot about him... He was caught off guard by a moment of carelessness. He died with his eyes open, blood flowing from his mouth that stuck the horse's mane to his face, making him look like a little kid who had fallen into the mud."

"After that, my armor saved me more than once, in fact, so many times that I'm too lazy to even mention them. I've survived to this day, and that's the simplest and most direct proof—armor gives you a direct advantage, makes you less likely to die than others, it's simple, direct, and easy to use."

“Every time an arrow hits my vitals and bounces off my armor, I think of what happened to that guy and feel like he’s muttering to me.”

After a simple story was told, the silence in the room was immediately broken, and Karila was the first to speak:

"Hey, when was the last time the Kiel were utterly defeated and even surrendered their Khan's head?!"

"That was after I became the legion commander... To be honest, that battle was quite dangerous, but we won quite steadily... They had too many people, and most of the Empire's forces were tied up in other directions. The two of us had to hold off their offensive, otherwise we would have completely surrendered the key plains."

"Since it's so dangerous, why do you say the victory is quite certain?"

Colin's eyes widened, and he asked quite seriously, while Tersolius nodded and then replied with a smile:

"That's because the victory went exactly as planned from beginning to end. There were no mishaps, and the losses didn't even exceed our most optimistic expectations. My cavalry successfully broke through their central army, and even our final attempt to pursue them successfully caught up with their Khan. He was so terrified that he didn't even dare to look back when I cut off his head."

As he said this, he rubbed his eyes, turned to look at the clear night sky outside the window, at the bright moon and the twinkling stars around it, and at the clouds drifting in the distance:

"That was the first time we organized a large-scale cavalry formation, and I was at the very front of it. When our hooves started rolling, I knew that no one on the battlefield could stop me... The scene could even give you the illusion that you could break through a mountain in front of you..."

"We parted the enemy's ranks like waves, trampling all who stood in our way under our hooves, forging a bloody path through the blood and screams. When we passed through the enemy lines, the view opened up before us. The sky I saw was so vast that it was almost like the ocean, with not a single cloud in sight."

The three girls were speechless for a moment... Although the other person spoke calmly, they could still see the sharp edge and arrogant spirit in his voice. It was hard to imagine what a magnificent scene it must have been, but it was a pity that they could never see it again.

None of the group felt sleepy for a moment, but then a sudden change occurred. Panic shouts and hurried footsteps came from outside the window, along with the crisp sound of feet stomping on the floorboards. In an instant, it was like a string of firecrackers exploding in the inn.

432 Scheme (2)

A sudden commotion in the darkness is always startling, like sharpening a knife next to someone's ear while they are asleep. It always strikes when they are most relaxed and always causes considerable panic.

Like a thunderbolt suddenly striking the roof, the once quiet post station was now filled with shouts and neighing horses, chaotic footsteps, and panicked cries. Noisy and useless information filled every corner, making it impossible to discern the current situation for a moment.

The three girls stood up in surprise. Talina quickly grabbed the chainmail armor beside her and put it on, then tucked the two armor-piercing spikes diagonally into the leather sheath at her waist. She then draped her coat over herself and slung over the lion-skin pouch she had been carrying during the day.

"Has someone attacked us, sir? Should we retreat first?"

"No, go tell everyone not to act rashly, and to wait and see."

Thesolius rose proudly, the blade in his hand gleaming from being polished all night, reflecting the moonlight from the window into the dark corners of the room, instantly calming everyone's hearts as they quietly awaited his command.

"My sharpshooter, climb up this ladder to the roof and see what's going on outside. Is anyone piling up firewood to start a fire? Is anyone acting suspiciously, hiding somewhere? If you spot anything, call me immediately."

This was an unprecedented title, but everyone knew who he was calling. Colin's face flushed red, and he accepted the task in a fluster. He climbed up the ladder to the attic, then quietly opened the skylight and cautiously peeked out to check.

“My champion, gather my personal guards and scout the stairwells and corridors.”

Karila pulled her Moonblade Axe from the floor, hoisted it onto her shoulder, and gleamed the broad, cold blade with a bloody light. A mouthful of sharp teeth protruded from the corners of her lips as she laughed with an excited yet cruel smile. She walked unabashedly to the door, swiftly pushed it open, and walked out, not forgetting to turn around and close the door behind her.

Finally, Tersolius looked at Thalina and smiled slightly at her earnest gaze:

"And my doctor, who put armor on me."

The girl immediately showed a surprised expression... but within that surprise lay a hint of understanding, as if she had quickly figured something out:

"Sir, have you put on your armor?"

Thesolius laughed triumphantly, with a hint of cunning in his expression.

"That's right, and it's the complete set... Now that I'm here, there's no need for me to hide it anymore. The box in the corner is... Just as I expected, someone is about to make their move."

………………

The heavy oak chest was painted red and looked unremarkable. Even the brass-wrapped corners had many bumps and scratches. But once opened, the inside gleamed coldly and exuded a bloody aura.

The heavy armor was covered with marks from swords and axes, and there were traces of arrows grazing and colliding with the steel plates everywhere. Body armor, leg skirts, leg armor, arm guards, shoulder armor, helmet... all these gleaming steel pieces were neatly piled on the White Lion Cloak of later generations. Now, one by one, they were taken out and draped over Tersolius's body by Talina's fair and slender fingers.

The black robe was first draped with a chainmail, the densely connected chainmail rings gleaming like snake scales in the moonlight. Then came the body armor, leg armor, and waist belt. The double-layered iron armor firmly protected the area from the neck to below the knees. Large steel plates were stacked and forged into iron boots and iron arms to make up for the last deficiencies. Finally, he put on the winged helmet that could be opened and closed... and Tersolius was back to his wartime attire, with only his two eyes showing.

In the traditional view of the Empire, donning armor has always had a sacred meaning—it signifies that a man at this moment transitions from daily life, no longer busy with productive activities such as farming or manual labor, and begins to devote himself wholeheartedly to war.

Generally speaking, the only people who would drape a man in this way are his mother and his wife... His father and brothers can only hand him the weapons, in order to ensure that the man receives the blessing of the goddess of war.

No one knows when this saying started circulating, but the custom has become so deeply ingrained in the blood of the empire that it is considered a matter of course.

After adjusting the last leather strap to the right tightness, Tarina breathed a sigh of relief but then suddenly stiffened, realizing what had happened. In that instant, a series of thoughts jumped to her mind, and her face flushed almost uncontrollably. She quickly lowered her head to hide.

One last look at the thick fur cloak made him abandon the idea, deciding to wait until later to put it to use. Meanwhile, the guards on guard in the two rooms on either side had finally finished surveying the surroundings. The 20-man team hurriedly arrived at the door. After receiving permission, five men filed in, while the others remained on guard outside.

They had previously been dressed as ordinary caravan guards, but each of them carried two horses, with their armor wrapped in bundles on the other packhorse. Now, they were all fully armed and looked menacing. Led by Karila, they passed through the outer room and entered the inner room.

The moment they saw Tersolius fully prepared and ready to depart, their expressions relaxed instantly, only to become even more serious than before. However, this seriousness no longer contained worry, but rather a resolute determination.

They were awaiting orders, just as they had always done before. Once they received orders, they were fearless, and they would not hesitate to rush into a sea of ​​fire. Even if there were only 20 of them, they would not fear any enemy.

They had become accustomed to following this man to victory, and from then on, they would no longer hesitate to follow in his footsteps.

But Tersolius has no orders now, or rather, he is waiting for something...

As expected, Colin's voice soon came from above them:

"Sir, the stables on the west side of the courtyard are on fire!! Someone set it on fire, and the chaos in the courtyard is spreading. Torches have also been lit in other parts of the town. Someone should be sent to investigate soon."

The guards stirred briefly, and the captain at the head stepped forward and bowed in salute.

"Sir, it seems there are thieves lurking here. Should we escort you away first?"

"Don't rush—Doctor, how's the preparation for the second team going?"

"We have already arrived at the neighboring village of Bosololobu and can get here in a short time."

Tersolius nodded, looking out the window at the gradually spreading fire, listening to the shouts of people trying to put out the fire and the noise around the well, his fingers tapping lightly on the iron armor on his arm, waiting calmly.

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

The feeling of a sharp blade cutting through warm flesh is indescribable; it's hard to imagine unless you experience it firsthand. But for some, it's as commonplace and uninteresting as breathing.

The severed arm continued to throb with excruciating pain. The potent poison on it was neutralized by the antidote before it could take full effect. Although it wouldn't be life-threatening for the time being, blood continued to gush out from between the fingers like a leaky water bag, leaving a trail of blood on the ground and covering the moss-covered stone bricks with a thick layer of crimson.

The pain of having a limb severed is inhuman, enough to make an ordinary person turn pale and have difficulty moving, but for him it was still within a tolerable range, and he could ignore the bleeding and weakness of his body and continue to move forward until he found a safe place.

This would not normally be considered a wise decision, but he had no other choice at the moment—the steel gate had lost its weight and sense of security in his eyes. He didn't know how long it could hold that person back, he only knew that he had to take advantage of this time to escape, to escape as far away as possible... to get as far away from that monster as possible.

Yes, at that moment he could only call that person a monster; otherwise, he couldn't find a suitable adjective... He would probably never forget that horrific scene—

They were as if fighting a monster. Arrows and blades could only pass through their weapons, while the silver-green flashes rolling out of the black mist would cleanly bring up splattered blood and spilled entrails, and they could only be chewed into pieces one by one in despair.

He had known for a long time that the other party had many secrets. After all, as the head of the emperor's henchmen, he was in charge of the dark side of the entire empire. It would be strange if he didn't have secrets, and they must be the most important secrets that would have great consequences... But even in his wildest delusions, he could hardly have predicted that the other party would be such a person!

It was a miracle that they escaped from that woman's clutches, but the others were clearly not so lucky. They had been cut into pieces and were lying on the ground. A few important people might be spared, but they would be subjected to even more unbearable torture. It might be better for them to just die.

The moment the other party appeared behind him, Sosgoria realized that he had failed... His ambition had not even had a chance to be realized before it was shattered, completely crushed by a force he could not understand.

He prepared poisoned crossbows, a skilled team, and even anticipated the woman's general actions based on her personality. To guard against any possible countermeasures from that woman, he made all the necessary preparations, only revealing himself when he was certain she had nowhere to escape... But he simply couldn't have foreseen that the woman was no ordinary person...

So only now did he understand the other person's composure, calmness, and the subtle smile that always lingered on their lips... He had been a fool from the very beginning, sticking his neck into someone else's blade, and was even smugly thinking he had the upper hand.

He abandoned the others without hesitation, which gave him a chance to escape, even though he paid a heavy price for it... But at least he escaped alive, which gave him a chance and room to maneuver.

Finally, after turning three corners, he leaned his body against a seemingly ordinary wall, pressed down on a stone brick with his elbow, and the entire wall instantly flipped over, sending him directly into the secret room behind it.

It was a very small room, but it was fully equipped. The box in the corner was well protected against moisture, enough for him to properly treat his wounds and think about what to do next.

With a blank expression, he opened the box, took out a pair of pliers, and then bit open a glass bottle with his teeth. He quickly sprinkled the powder from the bottle onto the pliers and pulled out the clothes he used to bandage the wound. Without hesitation, he clamped the powder-covered pliers tightly onto the main blood vessel that was gushing blood. In the sudden burst of white smoke, the originally pinkish-white blood vessel immediately turned white and dry, shrinking into the flesh, and the bright red liquid that represented life stopped flowing.

He kept applying the powder, one drop at a time, until only the severed flesh remained on his arm, slowly oozing blood. Then he stuffed the blood-soaked cloth into his mouth and poured the remaining powder from the bottle onto the entire wound. With a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, the entire wound quickly became covered in a layer of white powder.

He picked up the powder from another bottle and sprinkled it on again, but this time the pain wasn't as intense. He only frowned slightly before enduring it. After carefully wrapping the bandage, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow with his only remaining hand.

He dared not linger any longer, stood up and felt around on the rough stone bricks of the wall with his hands. He quickly found a slightly protruding anomaly and pressed it down without hesitation.

The mechanism was activated, and the counterweight buried deep underground pulled the iron chain, causing the wall in front of him to flip up. He kept his position close to the wall, and in the blink of an eye, he was in another corridor. The oil lamp burning on the wall was still very bright, and the oil inside was enough to keep the lamp burning all day.

His steps were unsteady at first, but he quickly regained his footing after five or six steps—the time he had wasted treating his wounds was enough to be considered dangerous and careless, especially after he realized who his leader really was.

Next, he had to leave this country, completely distance himself from the empire, and go to the most remote corner of the world, a place where no one could find him, to spend the rest of his life there, treating everything that had happened before as a laughable dream... With the connections he had built up in the past, he believed he could do it.

433 Scheme (3)

The pain medication had begun to take effect, easing the excruciating pain of his limbs being torn apart and gradually making his steps more steady, preventing him from staggering. As he moved forward, he began to change his appearance and his attire.

He applied a thick, white ointment to his arms and neck, and his originally smooth brown skin immediately began to wrinkle and darken, giving him the complexion of a weathered old man in the blink of an eye. Then he pressed his palms onto the bones of his shoulders and used a special force to repeatedly rub and squeeze, causing one shoulder blade to bulge high, making him look like a disabled person with a physical deformity. Finally, he took out a soft, slippery, skin-like object from a carefully preserved cloth bag and carefully applied it to his face with a special adhesive.

Finally, he was dressed in tattered clothes and had messy hair. He had prepared for the former, and for the latter, he only needed to rub the dust, ants, and leaves piled up in the corner onto his head... After all this was done, he was completely a different person.

This guy was a beggar living near the sewers. He noticed the other man's lowliness and contempt early on, so he killed him, peeled off his face, and used this to prepare his third identity. He could switch identities whenever he needed to, and he was confident that he could make himself indistinguishable from a lowly beggar.

Now all he had to do was follow this path to escape into the sewers, and keep moving forward toward the sewer exit, where many beggars gathered, using the towering city sewers for shelter from the wind and rain. Only they could endure the dampness and filth there.

As his feet touched the damp ground of the sewer, a group of fat rats, as big as cats, scurried past him, chattering. Their gray-black fur was stained with sewage and looked like tattered cotton. Their thick tails were covered with a thin layer of down, like worms the thickness of a little finger. As they ran, they kept wriggling on the ground, leaving behind winding, linear tracks.

These creatures live by eating garbage from the sewers. The residents of the empire's capital are wealthy and live extravagantly, and only the sewers here can feed so many fat rats. With such a large number, they are not even afraid of people. Beggars in the vicinity often catch them and roast them for meat.

The sewers were very dark, with the only light source being the torch he held in his hand. The roof was supported by an arch made of stone bricks. The middle two-quarters of the road was a deep ditch filled with sewage and garbage from the city, while the narrow paths on both sides were for walking, allowing workers and laborers to deal with the accumulated garbage in a timely manner.

The torchlight flickered and danced as he moved. The damp moss on the ground kept making his shoes slip, but fortunately, the old shoes he was wearing allowed his toes to stick out from the front, increasing his grip a little. His speed was still acceptable, and soon he could vaguely see a white light ahead.

Dirty, foul-smelling black sludge was squeezed out between his toes. After walking only a short distance in the sewer, he already looked more like a beggar than a beggar, enough to make any decent person shun him.

There was only one bend in the road left. Before he saw the sun, he threw the torch in his hand into the sewage next to him, extinguishing the last bit of light. Then he grabbed a handful of moss and mud from the wall next to him and smeared it on his masked face.

He has now successfully escaped halfway. The next step is to sneak out before the city gates are sealed off, and he must do so as quickly as possible. Only by escaping this vortex that will soon tear flesh apart will he have a chance to survive.

Thinking this, he quickened his pace, his movements becoming somewhat flustered. He absolutely did not want to be caught... Whether caught by those black crows or by that strange and terrifying woman who was his former boss, neither outcome was likely to be good.

The light ahead grew increasingly bright, seemingly carrying the grandeur of the sun, causing his expression to relax slightly. He urged his leg muscles to quicken their pace, and just then, a thought, like a fish swimming, flashed through his mind, stirring ripples and waves—was the sewer really that short? Had he already seen the sun?

He immediately sensed something was wrong, his whole body went cold, his hair stood on end, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his hair, but his feet still took two steps forward due to inertia... and it was those two steps that made him freeze in place.

A brilliant, bright light illuminated a section of the sewer, revealing the sewage on the ground. Even the rats, accustomed to the darkness, squeaked and fled in terror. But this light was not from the sun; it emanated from a beautiful crystal flower that resembled a work of art.

It was a lotus flower made of transparent crystal, and the center of the flower emitted a bright orange-yellow light like a hot iron block, illuminating every corner around it. The handle at the bottom was firmly held by a hand wearing a leather glove. The slightly tattered black robe absorbed the excess light, and a green dagger curved like a snake's fang was being turned in the fingers.

"Ah, you've finally arrived. You're a bit slower than I expected. I guess treating your wound took you quite a while. You even got yourself a prosthetic arm. You certainly know how to plan..."

The blade he was flipping in his hand was gently sheathed at his waist. The other person calmly placed the crystal lamp in his hand on a protruding stone platform next to him, speaking with a sense of ease and amusement.

"How did you find out where I was?"

Sosgorya asked the question expressionlessly, pressing his hand down on his shoulder. With a crisp sound of bones returning to their place, his shoulder returned to normal, and a wooden arm was torn off and thrown to the ground.

He knew he had failed, that he was finished, but he still wanted to die knowing why the other party was able to capture him... After all, he had done his best and dealt with all the clues left behind along the way, even dissolving the blood from his wounds with medicinal powder.

He was unwilling to accept defeat, but he already knew he had no other choice... The last struggle he could make was to ask for a reason, so that he could die knowing everything.

The other person seemed to be in a good mood and readily granted his wish, pointing a finger at his shoulder:

"Did you think my blades were just poisonous? Anyone wounded by these blades, even if they survive by sheer luck, cannot escape my pursuit. From the moment I cut off your arm, you had no chance of escape, so I was waiting for you on your path... It's just that you put on quite a show, making me wait a little longer."

"still have a question."

He drew a dagger from his lower back, hooked his thumb into the iron ring at the end of the dagger, and at the same time secretly engaged the trigger of the crossbow in his sleeve:

"Who exactly are you? Or rather, what is your name?"

That eerie silvery-green light shone again, and two curved blades, like the fangs of a viper, twirled in his fingers before slowly carving a groove into the stone bricks of the wall.

“I have no name. I am the most terrifying shadow in the darkness of sinners like you, the ominous presence lurking in death, and the most painful and agonizing torment… You only need to know this.”