Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

This time the king responded quickly, clearly having anticipated this and already having a plan in mind:

“Collect double the taxes in the areas we can still control, get those scoundrels moving and make them work hard for their king. This way we can naturally sustain ourselves. At the same time, delay the soldiers’ paychecks to buy them time to raise the money. I believe they will understand.”

The supervisor's face immediately showed an indescribable expression. After hesitating for a moment, he finally couldn't hold back any longer:

“Your Majesty, we have already collected double the taxes... The areas that are still under our control have been almost completely plundered, and the soldiers will certainly be dissatisfied as a result.”

"Let them be dissatisfied. We still have some time before their discontent completely erupts... Besides, those scoundrels always have hidden money and food. They just lack a little whip to urge them on and regulate them. There will always be a way. If all else fails, we can send the soldiers to collect it."

"........."

The supervisor finally had nothing more to say, let out a long sigh, and scratched his head.

“Very well, I will do as you say, Your Majesty… One more thing, I’ve noticed that you’ve been in a bad mood lately, frequently whipping and executing servants…”

"Do you pity them? I just heard you talking to the guards who were whipping you outside."

"No, I'm worried about Your Majesty's safety."

Redbeard Yotsero raised an eyebrow in confusion and took another swig of absinthe.

"Oh, what do you mean?"

"You should treat your personal servants better. They have daily contact with His Majesty. Long-term insults and abuse of them pose a significant risk. If all else fails, you should dismiss them all and replace them with a new batch of servants. That would be much safer."

"Ah, I see... Although I think your worries are a bit unnecessary, I will be more careful."

The king waved his hand absentmindedly, feeling only agitated, as if everything was working against him... Even a fool could tell that he was in the worst possible situation. The nobles who had been suppressed by him in the past were beginning to stir... and the reason, of course, was that they felt that he, the king, had become weak and useless, no longer as fierce as he used to be.

Fortunately, he had experienced worse situations more than once in his life, so he still had a considerable degree of confidence.

Now, it was a pipe dream to think he could defeat the invading imperial army on his own, not to mention that the morale of his troops was already wavering. His only hope was for support from other countries, and on this point, he had no worries.

Despite the potential delays and wrangling, other kingdoms will eventually send him their support. As long as they don't want to give up the natural defenses surrounding their countries, as long as they are unwilling to engage the empire in direct combat, and as long as they still fear this formidable nation, they will ultimately make the choice that is in their own best interest.

And that was exactly the moment he had been waiting for... General Natamus, who led the imperial army, was undoubtedly a formidable opponent. In just one month, he had seized more than half of his territory, pushing Salanod to the brink of national annihilation.

If Salanod were the only one facing this formidable opponent, he would have no choice but to fight to the death. But now, Natamus probably doesn't know what kind of land lies beyond the mountains in the west of the continent. They have long been accustomed to setting aside their disputes and uniting under the military pressure of the empire, at least in the short term. The land he now occupies will eventually become the target of everyone's hatred and will eventually return to his rule.

He believed this from the bottom of his heart, and forced himself to believe it, and would not allow anyone to question it.

He wanted his country to continue to exist, and he was willing and dared to do anything for that.

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

In the damp forest, a light mist was spreading. The moss covering the trees greedily absorbed the moisture, and the plants on the ground stretched out their branches and leaves to collect the condensed water droplets and irrigate their roots.

Animals roaming the jungle are always searching for food. For them, this is the way of survival. Only what they eat can provide them with real energy and help them survive. Nothing else matters. Everything is just for survival.

Such forests are rarely visited by people, and the paths are winding trails that can only be walked by one person at a time. Once it rains, they become muddy and difficult to walk on. Apart from lumberjacks and hunters, few people come here. The forest canopy is so dense that it blocks most of the sunlight, making the deep parts of the forest dark and quiet.

Today, an uninvited guest arrived in this forest. A figure dressed in a black robe appeared silently beneath a large tree. The edges of the robe were slightly torn, as if it had been dragged somewhere, but this did not affect the overall structure. Only the enormous tree in front of him silently watched his arrival…

452 Thief (1)

This is a frighteningly large tree, with straight branches reaching straight into the sky. It would take at least thirty people to roughly encircle it. The rough bark is a fluffy brownish-red color, and it has been expanding and cracking with the passage of time, forming a rough appearance covered with ravines and scales. The huge canopy covers an area of ​​hundreds of steps around it, casting all the shrubs and weeds in its shadow.

It's hard to imagine how many years this tree must have grown to reach such a majestic form, and how strong its trunk must be to support such weight... If an engineer building a palace for the emperor were to come here, he would surely treasure it, devising all sorts of plans and racking his brains to try and cut down this towering tree to transport it back to build the emperor's palace... But to him, it's just a large tree that can serve as a landmark, and has no other purpose.

Such a large tree looms over the entire area within a hundred paces, ruthlessly plundering all sunlight and shade. Therefore, it is destined that there will be no overly vigorous vegetation under such a tree, and it will always appear damp and cold. Only weeds that do not require much sunlight will thrive here.

The boots stepped into the grass, startling a spotted snake as thick as a finger, which quickly fled. Several crickets were also disturbed and jumped onto the tips of the grass, disappearing into the distance. Even the trembling elytra of the grass settled down at that moment.

The cool dampness was blocked by the boots, and the dew on the grass was useless on the oil-soaked cloth. He waded through the grass and came to the big tree. The man in black reached out to touch the rough, cracked bark.

The rough bark fibers were hard and rigid. If you accidentally bumped into it, it wouldn't be much different from hitting a stone, and it would even scratch your skin. But at this moment, when he touched it with his fingers, it immediately became like mud and rippled. Under the pressure of his fingers, it quickly dented and swallowed his palm like a swamp.

The scene was truly bizarre and terrifying, as if a wall had suddenly come to life and was about to crush him. But he continued forward without fear, letting his elbows slip inside, then his upper arms, shoulders, forehead, chest... until finally his entire body was inside the tree trunk, completely disappearing beneath the towering tree.

And so, his traces in the sunlight were completely erased. If someone had followed him all the way here, they would have been quite puzzled and would have had to leave disappointed, never knowing where he had gone.

The instant his eyes approached the tree bark, it was as if he were passing through a damp mist; an impenetrable haze obscured his vision. This lasted for three breaths. As he continued forward, his vision gradually cleared until a bright fire appeared in the darkness, allowing him to see everything around him.

Before them lay a narrow cave with carved stone steps leading downwards. Every three meters on either side, a torch burned quietly, illuminating the surrounding space and dispelling most of the darkness.

Without much hesitation, he slightly moved his toes inside his boots and stepped down. The crisp sound of his footsteps echoed and spread in the narrow space, becoming much louder than in an open space, but it did not obscure the sound of breathing or heartbeat. Everything seemed clearer, and also more oppressive.

And so, the gaze followed the footsteps forward, passing one torch after another until suddenly the space opened up before them. The narrow, crowded passage opened up to reveal a vast, circular space. Guards clad in black robes stood silently on either side, each with a crescent-shaped blade hanging from their waist. Silver silk belts bound the waists of their robes, and gold silk threads wrapped around the edges of their hoods. Their faces wore strange masks—smooth but not so smooth as to reflect a mirror image. There were only three holes cut out for the eyes and nose, and no other distinguishing features.

The strange guards merely nodded slightly upon his arrival and resumed their work, like a group of statues draped in robes.

They are the silent guardians of the holy land. Each of them cuts off their tongue on the first day they receive this mission, so that they can never speak a word again. At the same time, they receive the most sophisticated transformation in the Holy Order, and possess power far beyond that of ordinary people.

This is one of the entrances to the holy site. Guarded by twenty guards, a long staircase runs through the center, stretching into the distance until it ends in front of a circular gate. The gate, carved from blue stone, has spiraling, twisting lines that connect and twist to each other. At first glance, it seems innocuous, but upon closer inspection, it creates the illusion that the gate is alive. The lines appear to writhe and entwine like organs, sending chills down one's spine.

No one stopped him along the way, and he slowly walked to the door, then stretched out his right hand again and slowly pressed down the protrusion in the center of the spiral lines of the door.

Crack—

A sound like teeth grinding together rang out, and the spiral patterns on the gate suddenly glowed. Then, under the contraction of the surrounding area, they split apart, turning the once-solid stone slab into dozens of fragments that could be pieced together like animal teeth. This revealed the passage behind it, from which faint flames emerged.

Like navigating the intestines of a creature, every path here is a segmented circle, yet as hard as stone. The steps on the ground are carved with anti-slip patterns and have a dull color, just like rocks carved from a volcano.

He kept opening doors and changing directions, never hesitating once he reached the front of the tunnel. He calmly and confidently determined his goal in this complex passage, and finally stopped in front of a door that looked no different from any other.

The Silent Guards were the most numerous here, some of whom wore silver chainmail beneath their black robes, holding long halberds and silently guarding the sides. They glanced at him as he approached before returning to their previous positions.

These doors, like valves in a blood vessel, act as dividers, effectively sealing off the entire passage without any blind spots. If there is no way to open them, the only option is to smash them by force. And they are all like replicas, with identical lines and textures.

Similarly, by pressing down on the protrusion in the middle of the door with your finger, an inconspicuous little needle inside will prick your finger during the process, and the blood flowing in your body will be identified; otherwise, the door will never open... Although this verification method is a bit tiring for your fingers, it is safe and rigorous enough.

Beyond this door lay his final destination—a circular, open space just like before, but instead of torches, it was illuminated by insects that flew around inside transparent, sac-like objects. Their bodies emitted bright light, illuminating everything, and as the sac-like objects writhed, they constantly changed their positions, making the light even and stable.

Although the space here is spacious, it feels quite empty... Apart from three tables placed in the corners, the only eye-catching thing is a huge sac-like object in the center—at first glance, it looks like an open throat, made of white cartilage and red flesh intertwined. Some tubular black tentacles hang down from the ceiling and connect to the surrounding area. Surrounded by flesh and cartilage is a huge translucent sac containing pale green fluid, and you can vaguely see the shape of some limbs touching the surface.

This colossal creation writhed like a living thing… no, it was a living thing, every detail exuding a twisted and vigorous vitality, as awe-inspiring as the organs of a giant beast, almost making one suspect that it would leap up at any moment.

He took two steps forward, then knelt respectfully on the ground, pressing his forehead to the ground and placing his hands parallel in front of him.

"Holy Throne".

The enormous organ began to tremble. Inside the transparent sac, the pale green liquid began to recede rapidly. The translucent object slowly opened to both sides after a steaming sound. The previously barely perceptible cracks split the sac wall in two, and the white steam that drifted out rose into the air like water vapor poured on a red-hot iron block.

Amidst a large amount of scalding white gas, a muscular figure slowly rose from within. Thick black tentacles connected his shoulders and neck, his bald head was devoid of any hair, and his chest rose and fell with the tubular tentacles, bearing twisted stitches.

This person's face had no distinctive features, no sharp angles, and every part appeared smooth and unremarkable. Only his head was excessively large, with a visible bulge starting from his temples and extending dramatically backward into a thick, elongated shape, to the point that one might worry about his neck...

In addition, his deep-set blue eyes, as clear as millennia-old ice, were particularly striking, devoid of any emotion, displaying only a pure, rational coldness.

He was naturally naked, but when his upper body was completely exposed, what appeared were not human legs, but tubular objects like thick tree roots, pale flesh-colored, with extremely fine stitching marks, connecting to his lower body.

Like a giant octopus standing upright, the one called the Holy Throne adjusted his position, then lowered his head and looked expressionlessly at the black-robed figure kneeling on the ground:

"Debrief the situation."

Without any emotion, without even a greeting, it was just a cold, commanding order, but the man in black dared not show any dissatisfaction, nor even raise his head, and hurriedly replied:

"Yes! Our plan has failed. Your Majesty, neither the Emperor nor the suddenly returning Tersolius succeeded in the assassination. We also lost all the constructs we sent out, and the network of relationships we developed has been uprooted and can no longer be used. This time we have suffered heavy losses and made no progress."

"reason."

Without any pause, and without even a sign of anger, the Holy See continued to ask:

"Based on the last message from the spider, it can be confirmed that the chosen one is the emperor of the empire... Therefore, our assassination plan failed, and the construct ceased operation on the spot."

"As for Tersolius... it's still difficult to determine the specifics, but it's certain that he possesses power far beyond that of ordinary people, easily killing the top-tier construct we sent... it's now basically confirmed that we can't achieve our goals by force."

"The Imperial Capital's garrison was not successfully mobilized. The soldiers did not commit the crime of attacking the palace, so they were ultimately pardoned and have now become the city's defense force. Fortunately, our collaborators escaped safely with the help of our doubles."

“Scripps did not agree to cooperate with us, and we did not have time to implant the control device in him... Tersolius has almost destroyed all our plans, and our current layout in the Empire can be declared a complete failure.”

………………

He went on and on like this, but there was no good news. Almost every step of the plan went wrong, or the most important step suddenly collapsed. If a person with a normal mind saw the whole plan fail, they would inevitably feel angry, and might even berate their subordinates for their incompetence and punish or execute some people... But this so-called Holy See remained completely unmoved, simply listening quietly to every word of his subordinates, like a sculpture made of stone, unresponsive to anything.

But he was not a stone after all—once his subordinate finished reporting, a subtle emotion flickered in his cold blue eyes, then vanished in an instant, as swiftly as a swordfish darting across the sea.

"Order the south and north to shrink their layout, allow the destruction of structures outside of tier 3 cities, and begin implementing the second set of measures within three days."

The man in black robes immediately bowed respectfully, and after a brief pause, the Holy See slowly crawled back into the pouch he had emerged from. Before the other man left, a new pale green liquid began to fill the pouch from the bottom, gradually submerging his twisted, root-like lower body, his muscular upper body, and his hairless head, until he was completely submerged...

453 Thief (2)

"This will be a somewhat long-winded story, after all, I'm an old man now, and I have some of the common old-fashioned ailments, always wanting to say a lot more."

The white-haired old man stroked his beard, drank the hot water in his cup, and sat upright with his lower back pressed against the back of the chair. He had changed into a looser and softer cotton robe and wore leather sandals. He looked like a wealthy old man that one could easily find anywhere in the capital.

This is a spacious and bright balcony tea room. Vigorous grapevines spread along the wooden frame, forming a lush sunshade under the careful arrangement of the gardener. Various exotic flowers and plants bloom with a fresh fragrance. The mosaic floor tiles are flat and smooth, carefully polished without any protrusions or edges. Marble pillars support the entire structure of the house, so even in the hottest season, you can feel a bit of coolness here.

Such a house would be incredibly valuable even in the suburbs, let alone in the capital of this empire where land is so precious… This is not something that can be solved by ordinary wealth; it represents power and status.

Bivis undoubtedly received the emperor's courtesy, but the old man insisted on not holding any real position, so he was given the title of honorary scholar of the capital library, but in reality he had no duties and was now quite free and relaxed.

Now, Tersolius finally had time to listen to what the old man wanted to tell him. Although the old man had intended to tell him on the way, Tersolius was completely unaware of the situation of the rebellion in the capital. The situation was extremely urgent and could not be delayed in the slightest, so he had waited until now.

“I’ve deliberately scheduled other matters for the afternoon. I have the whole morning to listen to you speak at your own pace, Mr. Bivis. Even if you go into more detail, it won’t hurt. Dr. Talina will take notes.”

Tarina sat in the chair next to him, her long hair tied into a bun with a hair clip. She wore a white silk robe with a wide, light purple satin cinching her waist, and strappy sandals that revealed her long, shapely legs. She had her notebook ready and looked at Bivis with expectant eyes, clearly quite interested in her teacher's past.

Bivis glanced at his student with a smile, then looked thoughtfully at Tesolius… a hint of relief and kindness inexplicably crept into his smile. He took a sip of hot water, wiped the fine sweat from his brow, rubbed his temples, and began to organize his thoughts. After a few breaths, he spoke leisurely:

"If I want to explain this clearly, I have to start from when I was a child... after all, this ill-fated relationship was formed at that time."

“I was born in the western Kingdom of Winddin, in a region near the northern Gil people. The population there is mixed, and no one can say for sure what their bloodline is or where their ancestors came from. Nobody cares about that, but we have to pay taxes to the local viscount in order to survive there.”

"The barren hills have no fertile land, and most people there make a living by herding... not the kind of sheep with thick wool and lots of meat, but goats that can even eat grass roots. There are always wolves wandering in from the north, so children who grow up there have to learn from a young age to drive away the roaming wolves and avoid their tracks. Someone as clumsy as me couldn't do it well. Usually, two older children would take three younger children and gather the sheep together to graze."

“Aiatros is one of the three of us. You could even say that the three of us grew up together, knowing each other inside and out, growing up amidst the smell of sheep and the dry, gray earth.”

“Life there was very hard. Many children had no clothes to wear and ran around naked, but they managed to survive. Not many people starved to death each year… But this kind of life continued until we were 14 years old.”

“A small tribe of Kiel from the north easily destroyed everything we had… They killed all the elderly and men who were unable to work, and took away those who could work as slaves, tied to poles… When the fire died down, only three bewildered children remained…”

The old man's gaze seemed to pierce through the painted ceiling... wandering through the long years, back to that day when dust and soot almost choked his throat...

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

The red-eyed crow emitted a sharp, hoarse cawing, its black feathers vibrating as it stared greedily at the burning flesh and blood in the flames… It was unclear whether it felt sorry for the meat it couldn't eat, but there was still enough elsewhere to fill its belly, so its gaze lasted only a moment.

The entrails flowing from the torn chest cavity emitted a foul stench, already rotting and turning white under the sun. Dense swarms of flies and various insects were feasting on the carcass, crowding and touching each other, almost covering the rotting flesh. Whenever a crow stuck its sharp beak in to tear at the pieces of flesh, it would startle a flock of black shadows, like the gray smoke constantly rising from a bonfire.

The village nestled between two hills was engulfed in flames, the road covered in a dense layer of sheep dung. Countless human and horse hooves mingled with sheep hooves as they fled into the distance, leaving only the village, destroyed by slaughter and fire, to die silently here.

After an unknown amount of time, just as decay and stench were about to completely engulf the place, there was finally movement in a small grove of trees next to the village... Three teenagers crawled out of a large pile of dry straw, each trembling with extreme fear and sorrow, unable even to stand up straight.

Everything they knew was destroyed before their eyes; their parents fell to the slaughter, and even their flock of sheep became the spoils of the perpetrators. The three children had nothing left.

This is a dramatic change that is hard for ordinary people to imagine. Even the most resilient heart would tremble at such a tragedy, let alone three teenagers who were under the protection of adults just yesterday. The fact that they were not completely defeated by grief and despair is enough to show that their spirits are resilient enough.

Realizing that the corpses scattered on the ground would inevitably attract wolves, the tallest and most mature-looking boy among the three suggested leaving. The other two didn't object, or rather, they were hoping someone would tell them what to do…

They searched the ruins thoroughly and found some junk that even the Kiel people wouldn't want, as well as some food that was hidden in a rather secluded place—a pitifully small amount, but enough to keep them alive for a while longer.

Filled with fear of the future and a deep sense of desolation, the three teenagers left their destroyed hometown and embarked on a future path that was destined to be fraught with thorns and difficult to fathom.

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

Life is incredibly difficult, even for strong adults, let alone three teenagers who haven't yet grown up. Their bones haven't become strong and resilient, and their muscles haven't become full and powerful. The heavy workload is enough to crush their bodies, wear down their spirits, and leave them with scars that will never heal in their lifetime.

But the three of them survived. Through mutual support, unity, and courage, they managed to live in a city near their hometown, and not as beggars, but by finding a job that could support them.

Bivis became an apprentice scribe, and he managed to do the job well thanks to his naturally intelligent mind. He only earned a pitiful amount of money each month and had to work through the night, but he didn't have to worry about food and lodging.

Ayatoros works in a tavern on the docks, enduring the sailors' teasing, mockery, and humiliation every day, but he gets extra food from the kitchen to support his two brothers.

Strydor was the worst off, earning a meager living by carrying goods for merchants, and even that depended on luck—if he couldn't outcompete the others, he would go hungry that day. If it weren't for the other two often taking care of him, he probably would have starved to death long ago.

Like countless other people at the bottom of society in this city, the three of them lived a hard life but managed to keep going. The lucky ones didn't die and become corpses in the gutter. They stumbled and struggled to grow up until they became adults.

If things had continued this way, their final fate would have been to live an ordinary, uneventful life, only to starve to death in their old age when they were too old to work... But a turning point occurred that day, a turning point that would change their lives forever...

Bivis was the most intelligent and eloquent among them. No one knew exactly how this young man had done it, but he had seized an opportunity that most people couldn't imagine. Through various means, he made contact with the city's priests, and through painstaking flattery and maneuvering, he managed to get all three of them to become attendants at the temple.

This identity wouldn't make them a lot of money; instead, they would be driven around like slaves and have no status whatsoever. But even during the worst famines, none of the servants in the temple would starve to death... and they would be provided for until they grew old. This alone was enough to make them give their all.

Moreover, having this identity also means that they have the opportunity to learn knowledge—even just copying scriptures requires literacy, and this is something that the high priests do not have time to do; it is all done by their own hands.

And so, after five years, the three of them had become somewhat educated. Although they worked hard every day, they lived a peaceful and stable life. Only Aiatros was not satisfied with the status quo. Unlike his two brothers, this young man wanted to climb higher and was unwilling to waste the summer in this mundane and oppressive life.

Bivis and Steadon didn't have the same ambitions as him, but they were willing to support their friend who had come this far together... However, the young man's wishful thinking was soon beaten to a pulp by the desperate reality.

The order of the temple is fixed and rigid. The position of priest is passed down from father to son. These lowest-ranking servants can only be slaves and attendants for their entire lives, and can only serve the priests for their entire lives. Any transgression or disrespect will be punished with the most severe punishment. These rules are not written on the surface. Only when they try to test them will they be slapped in the face with blood.

So Aiatros finally gave up completely, stopped seeking any possible path to advancement, and decided to spend the rest of his life in this position... But fate is always so unpredictable; just when he was in utter despair, it suddenly gave him hope.