Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Tersolius remained silent, and the olive grove fell into complete silence. No one dared to make a sound at this moment; they were all waiting for the man to make a decision.

After a long while, Tersolius raised his right hand and gently beckoned behind him, and the hound squad responsible for escorting him immediately came forward.

"We await your command, sir."

"Send two capable men with him to investigate the situation inside and report back. Make sure there are no ambushes around the city gate. We need to be quick."

"As ordered."

Thesolius brushed the withered leaves off his shoulder, turned around, and looked at the dark mass of his army behind him:

"You've all rested enough, so let's not waste any more time here. Line up immediately, and we'll start heading towards the city."

At a command, everyone immediately sprang into action, using the cover of night and olive trees to organize their ranks, gather their weapons, and clear their minds and commands. Meanwhile, the henchmen had already left ahead of them, using their special methods to quickly head towards the city.

Everything was proceeding smoothly, and Thesolius was preparing to set off on horseback when a rapid sound of hooves from the side caught his attention.

Turning his head, he saw the scouts he had sent out earlier galloping towards him. They reined in their horses when they were about twenty paces away, then dismounted without a moment's hesitation and charged straight at him, their faces filled with anxiety.

"My lord! A large cavalry force is approaching from 15 gallons to the southeast! Their banners are unclear, but their armor and uniforms are in the style of the Imperial Legion. They are very aggressive and are probably here to support the rebels in the city."

The army behind him wavered only slightly for a moment before regaining its composure, while Tersolius continued to issue orders without changing his expression:

"The military order remains unchanged. Continue advancing. After we have thoroughly investigated, we will enter the city in raiding formations of 100 men each. Also, cavalry, follow me. We need to see who these people are."

After saying this, he lowered his voice and turned to look at Talina, whose expression was calm beside him:

"Doctor, have Colin and Carila escort you into the city... Do as we've agreed beforehand, don't hesitate, I trust you can make the right judgment."

A look of worry flashed across Tarina's face, which she forcibly suppressed, but in the end she couldn't hold back and spoke to Tersolius:

“My lord, we can enter the city together… Once we’re inside, even if the rebels have reinforcements, we won’t be afraid. This city is strong enough for every soldier to fight ten men. Alka and Marcus are leading their army back north, and we’ll get reinforcements soon.”

“It’s too late, Doctor.” Tersolius fastened his helmet to his head, closing the gilded, feathered visor, his voice taking on a heavy, metallic quality.

“We are all exhausted and it’s impossible for us to enter the city before those cavalry arrive. We need someone to hold them off and kill some of them. The situation in the city is unclear and we need to provide support immediately. We can only split into two groups… Don’t worry, I just want to see who dares to be so presumptuous in front of me.”

The guard on horseback handed him his spear, its long, sturdy shaft adorned with a vibrant, fiery hue, and its sharp tip gleamed coldly. Now freed from its leather sheath, it revealed its unstoppable sharpness without restraint.

With a flick of his wrist, the spear swirled in his hand, cutting through the air and falling leaves, causing his magnificent warhorse to stomp its hooves and neigh incessantly… This was not Moss, but it was also a magnificent Passatrian warhorse with a coat as gorgeous and smooth as red velvet. It was more composed, but in no way inferior in courage.

These are fine horses sent from horse farms in the East, accompanying his deputy. Although young, they are strong and energetic enough to help him complete the upcoming battle.

Just as he was about to set off, Tersolius suddenly paused, a look of sudden realization on his face. He then beckoned to Talina, who immediately turned around. She rummaged through the saddlebags of a nearby horse, took out a roll of fur, and unfurled it in the night, its shimmering light resembling condensed moonlight.

This cloak was made from a piece of the pelt of a giant lion he hunted in the south. He had kept it in a box because he thought it would be too conspicuous on the road, but it came in handy now.

Once the cloak was tied to his shoulders, he glanced back one last time, then spurred his warhorse forward, leading hundreds of cavalrymen into the night, kicking up a cloud of dust as they sped away until they disappeared completely into the darkness.

"...Move forward in formation, follow the route we planned beforehand, and move quickly."

Talina hesitated for only a moment before regaining her composure. She turned to look at Karila and Colin, nodded in response to their equally calm gazes, and then made up her mind.

From now on, none of them had the right to hesitate or back down. There was only one thing they could do, and they had to do it firmly and decisively so that everything would have a good outcome.

In those few hours before sunrise, they still had a lot to do. No one knew what would happen next, but their determination to do it remained unchanged.

443 Failed at the last minute (5)

The sound of horses' hooves pounding the ground is crisp, especially on dry, hard soil, which also kicks up a cloud of dust. Accompanied by the rumbling of armor rubbing together, cavalry movements are never quiet, and certainly cannot be kept secret from the villages along the way.

Even if they marched quietly on horseback, they would be far easier to spot than a large infantry force, let alone when they were galloping at full speed. Therefore, the scouts easily discovered their tracks. They made no attempt to conceal themselves, riding through the night, raising clouds of dust and echoing with shouts and neighing horses.

The area around the capital was naturally densely populated, with villages and towns scattered around it one after another. The roads were well-maintained and accessible in all directions. However, no one would bother to get up and watch if they heard a large cavalry force passing by in the middle of the night. After all, such things were not uncommon. Sometimes, in urgent situations, troops had to be mobilized overnight, and no one would think that enemy cavalry could get close to the capital of the empire.

In general, no one would think that such an ordinary sound of horses' hooves would be related to a rebellion, so the villages they passed through were not even lit up, and the militiamen patrolling at the village entrances just pointed and commented on them after they passed.

Such a cavalry unit, advancing rapidly under unobstructed and well-traveled conditions, was destined to be incredibly fast. By rotating spare horses, they could cover a distance unimaginable to ordinary soldiers in just one night. The only way to stop them would be with another cavalry unit of equally astonishing speed.

The scouts kept sending back messages, allowing Tersolius to update the location of his target in his mind time and time again, making predictions and analyses.

Before long, they also blocked the cavalry in a field on the outskirts of a village, without any doubt and at just the right time. The two sides were three or four hundred meters apart, but they both reined in their horses at the same time. One side was surprised by the other's appearance, while the other side was just relieved and happy to have caught its prey.

This distance was something the cavalry could cover in just a dozen breaths. If they turned and ran now, they might have a chance to escape the pursuit. But the situation happened too suddenly, and their prey didn't seem to want to break off relations so quickly. After a brief commotion, they actually sent out a small team of about 20 people to approach them.

Tersolius slightly lowered his right hand, completely silencing the slight commotion that had just arisen behind him. Then he reined in his warhorse, adjusted his position, and watched as the enemy approached, until they were only a dozen paces away.

"Which legion are you from? Why are you blocking our path?"

Before he could even ask a question, a burly man from the opposing team rode out on horseback and roared in his rough voice. The sound was so loud that it sent birds resting in the nearby treetops flying, and it reached the ears of everyone present in an instant.

“I am Thesolius.”

It was a perfectly calm statement, as calm as telling a neighbor that you had meat soup for lunch, but at that moment it struck the squad in front of them like a thunderbolt. Everyone froze, and the rough-looking man at the head turned as white as a corpse. He instinctively tried to dismount and pay his respects.

Even setting aside their overly panicked expressions, their actions were still offensive and disrespectful. Knowing they were facing the Imperial Commander, they stared at each other blankly for a while. Under normal circumstances, they would have been tied up and whipped.

His power as consul and commander-in-chief was beyond question. No matter which legion it was, they were all nominally his subordinates. However, he was also well aware that there were some legions that he could not command. But in any case, they would not have the right to be disrespectful to him. Based on this alone, he already understood.

What followed undoubtedly confirmed his suspicions. The leader dismounted, but then sat back down steadily, prompting his guards to draw their weapons, their eyes blazing with murderous intent as they stared menacingly at the disrespectful man.

To bow in a disrespectful manner is one thing, but to refuse to bow outright is quite another... But Thesolius simply watched the people in front of him calmly, to see what they had to say.

"How can you prove you are Lord Tersolius? You know that impersonating the legion commander is a serious crime!"

"Based on this."

A sigh of near terror erupted before him. The flag that had finally been raised behind him reflected a brilliant luster under the moonlight, and the sharp beak of the magnificent double-headed eagle at the top tore through the threads of moonlight, its outstretched wings gleaming with a captivating luster.

This is a magnificent and majestic banner, known to everyone in the entire empire. It signifies victory, war, and the glory of crushing enemies... Countless young men dream of fighting under this banner, and countless young women harbor ill intentions towards its owner... Similarly, no one dares to desecrate the glory of this banner, which is undoubtedly the most direct and fundamental evidence.

At this moment, any verbal rebuttal would only seem pale and laughable. Normal imperial soldiers would have already knelt on the ground in fear and begged for forgiveness... But the squad in front of him remained pale-faced and refused to dismount—as if they were unwilling to lose their horses and were ready to flee at any moment.

But Tersolius was no longer going to dawdle.

"Take it down and throw it on the side of the road."

Two words flowed coldly from his mouth, and the cavalry behind him immediately sprang into action. Before the squad could even begin to resist, they swarmed forward, restraining their hands and feet with spears. Ignoring their struggles, they dragged them directly from their saddles and then bound them securely with their leather ropes and whips.

Ugh! ...

A long horn sounded from the opposite side, and just before their eyes, another cloud of yellow dust swept across the distant sky. Soon, another troop of cavalry appeared on the road near the village, their armor gleaming in the moonlight, and they began to organize their ranks.

Now, the opposing forces outnumbered them three to one and were visibly ready to attack. Tersolius made a subtle gesture, and his cavalry began to form ranks, gripping their lances and weapons, and controlling their warhorses that were already sensing the approaching war.

"Defeat them, then take the prisoners back."

Without waiting for the enemy to reorganize their formation, the moment his cavalrymen finished lining up, he swung his right hand sharply. The cavalrymen quickly urged their horses on, using the good condition of the provincial road beneath their hooves to accelerate. The gleaming spears stood like a forest, and the shiny helmets shimmered in the moonlight, now moving rapidly.

The sudden, thunderous sound of hooves echoed like rolling thunder across the roads of the imperial villages. This was their first charge on the imperial roads, their first time not aimed at the country's external enemies, but as always before, they were fearless and decisive!

As he galloped at breakneck speed, Thesolius had already drawn his hornbow from its scabbard with his left hand. On the gradually accelerating warhorse, he drew the bow and nocked an arrow, pulling the powerful bow to its fullest extent under the moonlight, and then released his fingers with the next breath.

The next moment, one of the cavalrymen who was giving orders fell off his horse. While the arrow that pierced his throat was still vibrating in the air, the hot blood that splattered into the air had already reached mid-air, and those around him had not even had time to react.

Immediately following, accompanied by the thunderous rumble of hooves and dust, came a series of deathly screams, shooting their leaders off their horses one after another. Losing command within moments and suddenly thrown into chaos, their last sight was the cold glint of spears almost within reach...

444 Failed at the last minute (6)

If a battle between cavalrymen doesn't end quickly, it often devolves into a bloody melee. Because they don't have the same speed advantage as infantry, if a charge fails to break the enemy's momentum, they'll often be entangled. At this point, they can only resort to close-quarters combat, relying on their martial skills, armor, discipline, and courage to decide the outcome, resulting in a bloody and brutal fight.

In this situation, discipline and cooperation are crucial. Even if two cavalry units are equally skilled, as long as one unit has good teamwork, they can often achieve the final victory and defeat their opponent. The reason is simple: they can create a situation where they outnumber the opponent in a short time and quickly defeat the opponent's resistance with the highest efficiency, thus naturally gaining the upper hand.

In this respect, it is no exaggeration to say that Tersolius is the best in the world—at least so far he has not encountered any opponent who can rival him in cavalry. His knights are also the best in this field. The finest armor, the most outstanding skills, and the most magnificent warhorses in the entire empire make them fearless against any enemy.

In the instant of the conflict, his spear danced up and down, swirling left and right. The sharp blade, under the moonlight, brought forth viscous blood. In a flash, it tore open the throats of three men, then flung the fourth man directly off his warhorse. While the half-dead corpse was still in mid-air, his spear had already pierced the throat of the fifth man, tearing his neck in half from the side. The shattered chainmail rings scattered under the moonlight like broken ice shards.

The enemy's command system had just been completely destroyed by him, and now this chaotic and disorderly formation immediately met with the most tragic consequences. Although some enemies still tried to organize their formation to meet the enemy according to their long-term training, they were still killed and torn apart by his cavalry charge. Countless spears pierced the chests of warhorses and the abdomens of men. In an instant, the stench of blood and entrails spread like hot water being poured on a snowy day.

Using the momentum of the horse, the iron staff swung down, slamming a hole into the sturdy helmet. The immense impact caused the opponent's eyes to roll back and he fell into a daze, before being pierced through the chest by the spear that followed.

The saber, thrusting straight out with its arm extended, grazed the chainmail rings and pierced the flesh at the weakest point under the armpit, drawing blood. As it left, it viciously twisted and dug away the flesh still embedded with fragments.

The chain hammer, spinning and charging in the air, struck with its most ferocious force, smashing down from above and destroying the opponent's entire face, which was not covered by a visor, bringing out shattered vitreous humor, blood, snot, and a scream that was blocked in the throat.

The spiked battle axe, arcing through the air, sliced ​​through the enemy's shoulder, leaving flesh and blood. In that instant, the attacker skillfully used his right-hand shield to deflect the enemy's counterattack with a longsword. As the warhorses passed by, the attacker changed his technique and pulled downwards with force, calmly pulling out his axe. The severely wounded and dying enemy was left howling on his horse's back, being carried away from the battlefield by his panicked mount.

...Just like in every previous war, his cavalry followed him, slaughtering the enemy without restraint, even those wearing the same red uniforms as them. After receiving orders, they showed no mercy and did not hesitate for a moment when wielding their weapons. They were monsters born from war and would not question his orders in the slightest.

Thus, facing an enemy force three times their size, Tersolius had broken through their formation in the blink of an eye. Under his command, the cavalry began to weave and split the enemy lines with impunity, completely shattering their organization.

All of this happened so quickly that the other side didn't even have time to make any effective response before they were plunged into a bloody and brutal battle, and were quickly torn apart. Their morale also dissipated rapidly like a punctured water balloon. So, in a certain instant, as the first person turned his horse around and fled, the people blocking their way immediately began to scatter.

Throughout his campaign, his tactics were extremely simple: shoot down the enemy officers who commanded and relayed orders, preventing them from organizing their superior numbers and throwing them into panic and disarray. Then, use lightning-fast charges and assaults to quickly create breaches, split the enemy formation, and completely demoralize them. All that remained was to pursue them for a while and then return with a full load of loot.

Of course, it sounds simple, but in reality, probably only he and his brother's cavalry could do it.

Thanks to his unparalleled understanding of the Imperial Army, even without the enemy raising their banners, he could easily identify those in charge of issuing orders from subtle changes, displaying the same ease and skill as a master butcher dissecting an ox.

His knights had already begun to hunt down the fleeing enemy, and he threw his spear, which was covered in blood, to his personal guards. Immediately, someone tore off the cloak from the corpse next to him and wiped away the blood.

"Statistics on casualties."

After a flurry of orders being relayed, the personal guards immediately came to report:

"Six of our men were killed in battle, and eight were wounded... As for the enemies we killed, we haven't finished counting them yet. Their bodies are piled up, and it will probably take some time."

"Never mind them, let their bodies pile up here. Sound the horn, the pursuers return to their ranks, take the prisoners, and we'll head back immediately... to the capital."

The horn, made of broad, long bull horns, rang out with a long, resonant sound. Propelled by powerful lung capacity, it immediately carried the signal of return in all directions. Before long, pursuing cavalrymen began to return one after another on the surrounding roads. Each of them was covered in blood, with two or three heads tied to their saddles, forming ranks behind him at an extremely fast pace. After taking one last look at the road that had become a bloody mess, he turned and rode away, with his troops following closely behind.

The defeated remnants will then relay his message back to the rear, to those who sent them, and to those with ill intentions, letting them know that Tersolius has returned…

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

If willpower could kill, Ingersoll believed that the despicable man opposite her would have already had his head ripped off... It would take some time before the full extent of the chaos in the palace was delivered here, but in the meantime, facing Turials's confident and self-assured demeanor, she found it hard to suppress her anger and wished she could jump off the building right now and chop him to pieces with an axe.

This wasn't difficult for her—or more accurately, it was effortless. Just as a tiger could easily tear a lamb apart, she could easily tear this overweight middle-aged man apart... But at this moment, the other party had a confident and fearless expression, betting that she wouldn't dare to actually jump down.

She really couldn't do that, not only because jumping from that height would break her leg, but also because as the leader of the Imperial Guard, she had her own responsibilities and couldn't do something foolish on a whim.

"It's just a fire in the palace, it shouldn't have anything to do with you, so why are you making such a fuss in the middle of the night? Isn't that the work of a traitor?!"

Barely suppressing his anger, Ingersoll continued to question loudly, his voice so loud it almost shook the surrounding bricks and tiles, and quickly began to spread, making the commotion below the city wall even more obvious.

"Now that things have come to this, do you still intend to keep it a secret, Lord Ingersoll?"

Turias remained unmoved by the situation. Instead, he suddenly raised his head and roared, just like a patrolling soldier seeing a pickpocket about to reach into someone's pocket in a bustling city. His words were full of self-righteous indignation, as if he were simply fulfilling his duty.

"Ha—I'd like to see what else your viper-like tongue can say."

Ingersoll calmed down completely, his right hand constantly spinning his axe, the broad, sharp blade flashing coldly in the firelight. The incredibly tough steel poked small dents into the city wall bricks, like an executioner about to strike.

"Stop putting on an act, Ingersoll. You may fool others, but you can't fool me... His Majesty has already been harmed by you! Yet you still stand here pretending, trying to cover it up!"

With a clang, the axe in his hand shattered a stone brick. Ingersoll's right hand clenched tightly, and his whole being exuded a ferocious and dangerous aura, like a hungry tiger suddenly grinding its teeth, making people tremble with fear, and even the guards standing on both sides couldn't help but turn their heads to look at him.

"What are you talking about, Turials?"

“I say you are the true regicide! It’s that simple, Ingersoll, and Chief Elder Scripps… You conspired with him to murder His Majesty in the palace. You were not satisfied with the reduction of your power, so you committed this heinous act and prepared to reinstate a monarch under your control! His Majesty has already delivered all of this to me through his trusted servants!”

At this point, Turiars' expression turned indignant, and he gritted his teeth, ripped off his helmet, and threw it to the ground.

"It's a pity that fate is so cruel! I couldn't save His Majesty in the end! You traitors succeeded! Now, I have no choice but to make you pay the price!"

At this point, tears welled in his eyes, and his face flushed crimson, clearly due to extreme anger. He could barely speak, and after a long pause, he abruptly turned to look at the now somewhat quiet garrison.

"This is what I want you to know! Soldiers! Our glorious and great Emperor has been murdered! And the culprits are these conspirators!"

"We are supported by Her Majesty and receive generous military pay, yet we cannot protect the Emperor of the Empire when she is assassinated by villains. What a disgrace this is!!"

A commotion arose within the garrison ranks, but it was not one of wavering; rather, it was one of growing doubt and anger. Although the soldiers did not fully believe their commander's words, they were already furious at the news.

No emperor has ever enjoyed such widespread support, especially from the military. With successive victories, vast swathes of land have been adorned with the imperial flag, and countless honors have been claimed by the legions. The empire is now undoubtedly the greatest and most expansive nation on this land... and all of this has happened since the current emperor ascended the throne.

Their current status, their comfortable lives, and their ability to ruthlessly crush their surrounding enemies are all things that happened after this emperor ascended the throne. Who wouldn't respect and love such an emperor?

The young soldiers had already started shouting and cursing, but the veterans who had retired from other legions remained suspicious. They were not reckless young men who were easily swayed by others, or in other words, such reckless people would never have lived to retirement. So it was easy for them to notice that this so-called rebellion was just Turials's side of the story. He had no evidence that the emperor had been murdered; he was just crying and stirring up emotions on his own.

Such meager evidence was insufficient to convince them, and the young soldier, after a moment of rage, calmed down somewhat... Almost everyone was confused; they didn't know what had happened and desperately hoped someone could provide them with answers.

And then, the answer was presented to them—Turiars pulled a magnificent parchment from his robes, its edges inlaid with fine gold thread, and even bearing the emperor's seal. He held it high, facing everyone's gaze, illuminated by a dozen torches:

"This is the secret letter His Majesty entrusted to me! This is my proof, and you traitors cannot hide it no matter how hard you try! Otherwise, you can naturally invite His Majesty out to refute my words in person! ...But can you do that?!"

Suddenly, the entire legion began to waver. The soldiers' murmurs rose like a storm from the ground and rushed towards the palace, causing the flames burning in the braziers to shake. The sounds of swords rubbing against armor blended into a tempestuous storm.

The situation immediately became dangerous. More and more soldiers began to have doubts, and more and more people were starting to have reservations about Turials's words. They were like lake water in a storm, beginning to ripple and gather... After all, everyone knew that Turials had fought alongside the emperor, while Ingersoll's becoming the leader of the Royal Guard was something that had happened with the previous emperor...

445 Failed at the last minute (7)

Most people tend to follow the crowd in public, and as the atmosphere becomes more heated, their emotions are often stirred up as well. At this time, the ability to think independently and analyze calmly becomes invaluable, and even if one has it, it is often drowned out by the tide of the masses and it is difficult to make any significant changes.