Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

205 Re-emergence (3)

The differences between people are always very obvious. Even in the same village, some people live a very prosperous life with fertile land, while others barely make ends meet with just two acres of meager land, living in leaky and dilapidated houses, wearing tattered clothes, and living a miserable life day by day.

Casaa was such a down-on-his-luck man, and his downfall was entirely his own fault. His father was a veteran who had retired from the army. After years of military service, he had accumulated a lot of wealth and built up a considerable fortune. At that time, his family was one of the wealthiest families in the entire village. They owned fertile and contiguous land, half of which was prime riverbank land.

However, his father, who had suffered numerous hidden injuries from years of fighting, passed away a few years after acquiring this family fortune. His mother also died of illness three years later, and his younger sister had long since married a strong and honest young man from another village. This vast family fortune then fell into his hands.

With such a wealthy family background, even if he were foolish and incompetent, even if he couldn't bring glory to the family, he could still live a life of plenty. But he was lazy and addicted to gambling, and he squandered his money like water. Soon he had to sell his house and land. In the end, no one was willing to marry him, and he was left with only a dilapidated thatched hut and two small plots of land, barely making ends meet.

Even at this point, he still didn't change his lazy nature. He was unwilling to endure hardship or toil, and as long as he could get enough food to survive, he was unwilling to move. He often complained and blamed others, and stole chickens and dogs in the village. He was considered one of the most despised members of the village.

Even his neighbors on both sides had many conflicts with him and rarely interacted with him, causing his small yard around his house to become overgrown with weeds and desolate, resembling a cemetery.

It was late at night, and the autumn air was quite chilly. Casaa was fast asleep, wrapped in a tattered quilt with cotton wadding sticking out everywhere, snoring loudly with a heavy nasal tone.

His skinny dog ​​was lying in its straw kennel. Although it couldn't even catch a rabbit, it was alert enough to at least take some precautions.

In addition, there was nothing of value in the house. The tables, chairs and benches were so broken that they could only be used for chopping wood and making firewood. So he just gave up and left the house in ruins. The door was just a fence made of tree branches, which couldn't even keep out the wind.

Generally speaking, this dilapidated place is unlikely to attract any malicious people. After all, there's nothing here but junk. Casaa has always slept like this without any problems. Of course, no thief has ever taken pity on him and thrown him anything...

But today, something is not quite right.

First, the skinny dog ​​outside the door suddenly widened its eyes in terror, its thin body trembled violently, let out a few mournful howls, turned and ran, but after only two steps it convulsed and rolled to the ground, and soon died.

Casaya mumbled a couple of things inside, then went back to sleep without noticing anything. Until a tall, thin figure, like a stick insect, appeared in front of his door, silently picked up the ridiculous twig door and threw it aside, then bent down and went inside.

Looking like a skeleton covered with a layer of withered yellow skin, this eerie man crawled into the room and slowly walked up to Casaa. His thin, long waist slowly bent down, and his finger moved towards the unshaven, grime-covered face.

A tiny creature, about the size of a melon seed, was wriggling between the withered fingers, its short tentacles eagerly reaching towards the man's face...

When the thing landed on his face, Casaa finally woke up with a start, letting out a confused and panicked cry, and reaching out to grab his face—he thought it was a rat or some large insect, which was a common occurrence in the house.

But he never got the chance to shout a second time... The withered hand possessed terrifying strength, easily pinning him to the bed like a mouse, rendering him completely immobile. He could only desperately open his bloodshot eyes to watch the strange little thing crawl into his nostril.

His nose twitched slightly, then there was no other sound, but the terrible pain and the strange intrusive feeling gradually spread to his forehead, and soon became unbearable, making him tremble like a fish pulled ashore, his eyes rolling back.

Copious amounts of white foam and snot gushed from his face. The foul-smelling yellow liquid soaked the sheets and drenched his clothes, while large patches of cold sweat, like blood seeping from peeled skin, rapidly soaked everything around him…

In this torment worse than death, Casaa soon became still and collapsed in his dirty, black and yellow bedding.

The tall, thin figure looked at the scene before him with satisfaction, then turned and left without a second thought, leaving the shabby room behind, leaving the oblivious Casaa lying on the bed, soiled with excrement and urine.

The insect eggs will hatch in three days, and this marginalized person living in the corner will wake up forgetting what happened, only wondering why his dog suddenly died...

Three days later, he would create a great spectacle here, attracting the attention of those henchmen—and in those three days, he would be able to leave the most dangerous place.

Of course, to be on the safe side, he would do it again... in a town near the west, where no one cared about the beggars, that would be the best opportunity.

----------------------

This was the first time Thesolius had stepped into the Chegevne prison. After all, this place was a taboo even for high-ranking officials and nobles, a constant reminder that they would suffer the same fate if they lost power or made mistakes.

Contrary to his expectations, the place was not damp or dark; instead, it exuded a strange dryness. Even the dust on the ground was fine and dry, and the air currents stirred up by walking on it were enough to scatter it everywhere.

Escape plans that work in other prisons are nothing but laughable fantasies here—each cell is a space carved out of solid blue rock, formed as one piece, with no other exit except for a sturdy iron door, like a deep tunnel extending into the depths of the mountain, with three layers of solid rock cells on both sides of the tunnel.

The exquisite craftsmanship of the imperial artisans was on full display here. Each iron door was reinforced with thick iron bars several feet long embedded in the ground, and every joint was extra reinforced, making this place a veritable fortress of bronze and iron. Without a special key, it would be difficult to break it open even with a sledgehammer and chisel.

An astonishing number of black jailers roamed the area like black dogs around a grave, ready to snatch up their prey, who had nowhere left to run, and devour them alive... and in fact, that's exactly what they were doing.

As you walk along this long corridor, four branches appear on each side, resulting in a total of eight new passages. Six of these passages extend deep into the mountainside and are used to imprison the most vicious criminals.

The remaining two are filled with agonizing wails and screams all day long. A dazzling array of exquisitely designed and intricately crafted instruments of torture inflict extreme pain and torment on the sinners, forcing them to atone for their crimes or utter something of value.

The most complex and cruel design was the tiny holes hidden in the thick stone walls. These holes allowed for air circulation and also allowed the screams from the interrogation room to be clearly heard in every cell, making every prisoner tremble with fear and dread.

The enormous lamps, fueled by the grease of sinners, burned fiercely at the intersection of these passageways. They appeared to be just flames of varying sizes, yet they illuminated a great distance, ensuring that no shadow lingered there.

Countless negative words can be used here, and this place is enough to become anyone's lifelong nightmare, dragging them into this nightmare whenever they fall asleep in the days to come.

Ordinary people probably wouldn't have the courage to stand here, and those in prison are all heinous criminals with extraordinary strength, which is why they can still maintain their rationality and composure under such circumstances.

This prison has never been so overcrowded. Some prisons even had two people temporarily squeezed in. More and more important criminals are being brought here in a steady stream by black iron wagons. The identities of these criminals are a mixed bag, enough to amaze anyone.

Passing through these solid rock structures—the floors and ceilings of which are made of solid rock—it's hard to imagine the immense manpower and investment required to carve such a building out of a rocky mountain… and this place, where fire is impossible and there is no second exit, became the most despairing place in the entire empire.

On both sides of the two passageways, bloody and cruel tortures were taking place in every room. The accumulated experience and wisdom over the years had made this place full of masters of torment, capable of turning any self-proclaimed tough and daring sinner into a cowardly, fearful, and compliant cooperator who would answer any question.

The person being interrogated in this room is slightly different—he is a city official of some standing, responsible for the daily management and maintenance of a city gate in the western district.

While such a position may not be considered a high-ranking one, it is extremely lucrative. Anyone with a bit of shrewdness can make a considerable profit for themselves within the bounds of the rules. Although they may not live a life of luxury, they can still surpass most people in the city.

Most people who reach this position will be content and wholeheartedly focus on managing this lucrative job. But some people's ambitions don't stop there; they want more...

To ensure the credibility of what was obtained from him, even though he had weakened and yielded to answer every question, the terrible torture continued without pause until the man completely broke down and offered no resistance whatsoever. Only then would his words be believed.

Watching quietly as this once promising official was now reduced to a criminal, tortured beyond recognition, with all his information recorded on parchment and presented to him by a jailer, Tersolius carefully perused the parchment, then snorted coldly, essentially confirming his suspicions.

Criminals who had lost all value were dragged away to be executed. The empire's penal and intelligence systems were operating at full capacity, demonstrating their terrifying efficiency. Countless pieces of information were being extracted from those suspected criminals, sorted, summarized, and analyzed... A certain fog was being peeled away layer by layer, revealing itself to this terrifying empire.

………………

The pile of minced meat in front of you is hardly of any value. If you are not well-educated, you might not even be able to recognize what it originally was. After all, the tangled pieces of clothing, minced meat, tendons, and bone fragments are too abstract to distinguish their original structure.

However, among this pile of minced meat, some pieces were clearly different from the others. The texture of the cut meat also had unique characteristics, making it easy to distinguish them.

The foul smell here is equally alarming. Although it has only been one night, the pile of rubbish in front of us has already started to rot rapidly. Many parts have softened and liquefied, and it looks like it will turn into a puddle of putrid liquid.

In such a terrible environment, Tarina was carefully using silver tweezers and a shovel to separate the two obviously different piles of minced meat, transferring the small, truly valuable portion to the clean marble countertop next to her.

The girl was wearing a special protective suit to prevent dirt from getting on her skin, and even her hair was carefully tied up and tucked into a white cap.

A mountain girl named Yeliya was assisting her. The two worked quickly and efficiently to complete their current task, and then began the more difficult challenge ahead—to piece together the eerie gray-white limbs in the original way to recreate the parasitic creature's former appearance.

If one had no prior knowledge of this creature, accomplishing such a task would be an impossible task. However, Talina has accumulated a considerable amount of experience with this parasite. In this respect, even the most learned masters in the Imperial Academy may not be able to match her. Of course, this new experience is also being disseminated among the scholars of the Empire, but it will take time and a process.

In the end, even the broken shells were carefully pieced back together according to the seams, and the scattered internal organs were placed back into their original positions...

After observing for only a moment, Tarina had already made her own judgment—this was a new mutation, and it was more significant and the changes were more intense.

206 Preheating (1)

Insects are always a headache, let alone these strange and ferocious ones, which are constantly producing new variants that are becoming increasingly bizarre and disgusting, always managing to catch people off guard.

Under the sudden attack, the prison guards lost their usual composure and acted too quickly and ruthlessly, chopping the insect into pieces. Although they managed to piece it back together, they could not conduct any further investigation and could only obtain some basic information.

After using a special potion to preserve the remaining insect bodies, Tarina temporarily finished her work, hurriedly changed her clothes, and boarded a carriage to head towards the important location she had to visit that day.

The wife who has just given birth will need to be cared for for a period of time. Although Christina will not lack servants to serve her, some things still require the management and advice of professionals.

A tall, fit woman sat on the wooden railing beside the carriage, idly surveying the surrounding scenery. Even on the fast-moving vehicle, she did not sway in the slightest, maintaining her balance firmly. Two battle axes with armor-piercing spikes hung from iron rings at her waist, their blades polished to a gleaming shine, exuding a dangerous aura.

Karila's current job is to be responsible for Talina's safety... which is actually quite boring for her. There are no crazy guys to amuse her, and the whole day is peaceful and uneventful. She feels like her bones are about to rust. Apart from occasionally going to challenge Tersolius to a duel, there is basically nothing fun to do.

Driven by servants, the carriage moved at a suitable pace through the smooth streets and alleys of the empire, arriving at its destination steadily and smoothly. The two immediately alighted and entered the carriage under the watchful eyes of soldiers on both sides.

The weather is very mild today, and the specially designed courtyard allows a cool breeze to pass through, making it comfortable and pleasant even in the hottest summer.

The two consecutive attacks prompted the security measures here to be raised to the highest level, with the number of servants doubling. It goes without saying which servants were included.

At this moment, Christina was sitting in a comfortable high-backed chair—padded with soft lambskin—swaying gently along the chair's curved base in the warm sunlight, making soft humming sounds to the baby in her arms, listening to the little one's babbling and giggling.

Another lively little boy was fast asleep in Dolores' arms. The lady-in-waiting, who was over 50 years old, was clearly more experienced than Christina, who was a first-time mother. She could easily calm the energetic child down and put him into a deep sleep.

The servants were gathered around, taking advantage of the autumn sun to tend to the withered leaves and branches on the grass, clearing away the dead flowers and weeds that were no longer of any use, in preparation for planting new flowers next spring.

Everything here is so harmonious, quiet, and warm. Everything looks so peaceful and joyful, as if the warmth of the light doesn't come from the sun, but from the natural light that shines here.

Red, gold, and black ornamental fish were swimming in the pond next to them. They were also carefully selected by the servants. Not only were they hardy and brightly colored, but they could also be scooped out and put into a pot to enjoy their delicious flesh—of course, no one had done that yet.

Tarina, who rushed over, was immediately welcomed. The Hols girl had now become the savior in the eyes of everyone in the house and was respected everywhere, which made her feel somewhat flattered and flustered.

The servants carefully and respectfully led her to a wide, flat lawn. After settling into a comfortable chair, Talina, still somewhat reserved, began her routine work:

"Madam, how are you feeling today? Is there anything wrong with you?"

Christina smiled and had a servant bring the doctor drinks and snacks, placing them on the folding table before speaking:

"Everything is wonderful. To be precise, I've never been better... I'm so happy right now. There's no one in this country more fortunate than me. I can't think of anything I could want right now... Try this, Talina. It's freshly squeezed grape juice. I had the servants remove the skins and seeds, so it's not bitter at all. I also added honey. You should love it."

Tarina blushed slightly—every time she came here, Christina would immediately bring out drinks and snacks, and each time they were more tempting than the last… making it seem as if Tarina was here just to freeload…

Of course, since the host has already served the food, as a person of good manners, one cannot be negligent, so...

Today's dessert has a soft, flaky crust, filled with sweetened jam, and sprinkled with finely chopped rose petals, creating a rich and satisfying flavor that is sweet but not cloying.

Karila was also treated to the same treatment, a rather unique honor, but she probably didn't care about that at all. She was currently busy tearing apart the crispy fried fish with sauce on her plate, and seemed to really enjoy this kind of food that uses a lot of oil.

While enjoying the food, Tarina asked her patient questions—at least until Christina recovered her health and was able to draw her bow and shoot arrows like before, she was still considered a patient.

As expected, everything was normal. Just to be on the safe side, she even used magic to check it before she was finally relieved.

The babies nowadays are chubby and fair-skinned. Although their eyes are not yet open, they look quite adorable. Their motor skills are not yet fully developed, so even when they are being noisy, their movements are still very clumsy. They will not cause any trouble as they would in a few years.

It's worth mentioning that Ristina's milk supply was more than enough to feed both children, even a bit too much, thanks to her healthy body and her own request that no wet nurse be arranged for the two children.

The Natamus family is currently safe and sound. The turmoil outside has no effect on them. Even though the root of the disturbance and bloodshed was the assassination attempt on the lady of the house, the family is still protected by the highest levels of the country and can be considered as impregnable as a fortress.

Although Karila next to her had toned it down a bit—at least she knew to tie up her messy hair with a rope—some fundamental things were still hard to change. Even when eating greasy food, she wasn't used to using utensils, and accepted a maid's help without hesitation. After finishing her food, she asked for another one without any politeness.

Christina smiled and asked the servant to bring her another serving, gaining a deeper understanding of Christina's unpretentious, straightforward, and earnest personality.

The people of the Empire greatly admire and respect warriors, especially such a rare female warrior. During this time, there have even been rumors about her in the capital, although most of them are just hearsay and exaggerated nonsense.

Christina already knew that the exceptionally tall woman in front of her would be participating in the arena next month, a grand event for the entire empire. Warriors from all over the country would gather in the city, plunging it into a frenzy and clamor that would last for more than ten days.

Although Karila looks like no ordinary person, those who can reach this point in the national competition are also the best of the best among warriors, so Christina couldn't help but wonder why she was so confident.

"Confidence? What's that?... Oh, I see... I mainly feel like there's no one here who can beat Bitsorus... Of course, if there really is, I'd be very happy!"

Carila, her mouth glistening with oil, looked more expectant. Her eager expression inadvertently revealed a dangerous undertone, like a vicious tiger sharpening its teeth and sucking blood, waiting for its fat and strong prey.

207 Preheating (2)

A strange thirst was plaguing Casaa, making the downtrodden man restless. Even drinking water from the well until his stomach felt like it was about to burst couldn't alleviate the deadly hunger. He felt his heart clenching, yearning for something…

He no longer cared about stealing food for the day; under this terrible hunger, even his sense of hunger was suppressed to the limit, and he was constantly suffering from a burning torment. Driven by this inexplicable and terrible feeling, he wandered around the village.

For some reason, his old dog was stiff when he woke up in the morning, and he couldn't find anything suspicious. The puzzled Casaa could only skin it, stew a pot of meat soup, and eat it well for two days with some cabbage leaves from someone else's vegetable garden. Now the bones have been dried.

Now he felt as if he had become that old dog, desperately searching for something to relieve his hunger, except that this thing was neither food nor water, but some indescribable thing.

The aroma of stewed meat wafted from the house next door. The lady of the house was quite skilled; her fried meat was enough to attract all the dogs in the village. Normally, he would have been completely captivated, trying every possible way to get a bite, but now, the smell held no appeal for him. He walked past without even glancing at her.

Most of the villagers despised and loathed him. In just seven or eight years, he squandered his father's good reputation and a large fortune. Any decent and hardworking person had every right to despise him.

But he no longer cared about those gazes. It was as if a snake was wriggling in his brain. He was in a daze, his eyes were throbbing and painful, and white, shiny snot was involuntarily flowing down his chin. His face was also frighteningly pale.

What is it? What is it? What is it that I want?!

Even though he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, he didn't feel hungry. Driven by a strange longing, his legs always had enough strength to move forward, like a headless fly searching for that thing.

Everyone who saw him was surprised and disgusted. This guy, who was usually just an idle and lazy bum, now exuded a clear sense of madness, completely devoid of any rationality.

But because of his usual behavior, even though it was obviously wrong, no one was willing to pay attention to this guy. So he wandered around the village for most of the day, and finally, when the sun was at its hottest, he was exhausted and found a corner to settle down.

His reason finally vanished completely, his consciousness went blank, and only the purest emotion surged within him—a growing desire for something, a need for something unique.

…………

After what felt like an eternity, a unique aroma suddenly wafted into his nose, carrying an exquisite and wonderful sweetness that instantly took control of his entire being.

As if the parched earth were receiving a torrential downpour, or as if a thirsty person were tasting the first drop of water, he eagerly raised his head, turning it with a force that almost snapped his neck, and frantically twitched his nose to find the direction from which the scent was coming.

A peasant woman carrying buckets of water, cursing, threw down what she was carrying and bent down to untangle the thin vines that were wrapped around her ankles. These vines were thin and rough, covered with sharp thorns, and had small leaves. But they were incredibly resilient and would spread and climb wherever possible.

Similarly, if this stuff gets on someone's skin, the tiny bristles on it will act like sandpaper, scraping away a layer of skin and causing stinging and bleeding.

The weeds and vines spreading from the nearby yards caused the farmer's wife some minor trouble, but generally that was all; there wouldn't be any more serious consequences... Generally speaking...

Casaa finally realized what he was looking for... He slowly approached from behind, his hand already gripping a fist-sized stone. Following some kind of instinct, as the other person squatted on the ground muttering complaints, he raised it high and then swung it down hard.

………………

A scream suddenly rang out from the village. A woman ran out of the alley, crying and screaming. Blood had stained her headscarf, and she had even lost one of her shoes. She ran frantically to the main road of the village, shouting for help.

The pitiful cries for help immediately caught the attention of the men. The able-bodied men from the neighborhood quickly retrieved short swords and shields, as well as spears and bows and arrows from their houses, and hurriedly set off in pairs toward the source of the screams.

At the same time, warnings and shouts echoed throughout the village. To prevent wild animals or villains from harming more people, women, children, and the frail elderly hurriedly returned to their rooms and hid.

The first to arrive was a middle-aged man with a messy beard. He carried a large stick studded with copper nails and rushed onto the road with a wary expression, then looked around at anything suspicious.