Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Victory after victory, shattering armor and shattering shields to bring enemies to their knees time and again, earning cheers and applause from the crowd time and time again, Karila had become the star of the arena. Many Imperials were eagerly discussing this fierce warrior from the north, marveling at her superb skills and ferocious strength.

One after another, renowned warriors from both the military and civilian sectors fell to her, succumbing to the intense and fierce competition. Victory seemed like a matter of course, easily claimed by her. She relentlessly squeezed out cheers and applause from the audience, driving their enthusiasm ever higher, until her name echoed throughout the arena.

Such praise and enthusiasm would be enough to make any warrior go crazy and lose his head over such unimaginable honor, but Karila maintained a very clear enthusiasm from beginning to end—the desire and joy of fighting against the strong always permeated every aspect of his being.

Amidst a string of victories, her name had become a favorite to win the championship; everyone in the city knew her, and people everywhere were talking about her. Almost everyone was excitedly discussing who this year's champion would be. Would it be one of the battle-hardened elite soldiers, or a warrior who had come from elsewhere?

………………

"I have to say, you did a really good job."

The glossy, oiled chainmail was stretched open and slipped over the inner red lining. The chainmail rings made a crisp clinking sound as they flowed down the curves of the body, covering the surface with just the right amount of looseness.

Karila raised her hands, allowing the servants to adjust any unsuitable parts, and then tied a sturdy leather belt around her waist, making the originally loose chainmail fit snugly and outlining her agile yet graceful figure.

Tersolius stood before her, watching the maids dress Carila in armor, making the final preparations for her.

"This competition is unprecedented in scale, with many formidable opponents. Your performance has exceeded my expectations. I originally thought you would be defeated by those particularly tough guys... but you fought very intelligently and learned very quickly."

"Ha! Of course! I'm the most famous warrior in my hometown. I trained with my dad for two years, and he couldn't beat me!"

Seeing that the other party was about to become smug again, Thesolius smiled and shook his head:

"But it's not all that's done well. You always have a tendency to take risks and gamble your victory on luck. It's a choice made out of desperation, not a rash decision."

"You may be very confident in your strength, but you are not strong enough to ignore weapons hitting you. Today, your last opponent will require you to give it your all to have any chance of defeating him."

"He is a brave warrior of the Northern Military Region, and a tenacious and courageous soldier. We must not take him lightly in the slightest."

………………

The last piece of silver scale armor, with each scale edged in gold, was a gift from the emperor to reward her for her outstanding performance over the past few days—a private gift, of course, not to be made public.

By this time, she was fully armed from head to toe, with only a small area of ​​her face visible. Even her fingers were covered in chainmail gloves made of tough, interlocking rings.

Looking at the dashing and imposing Karila before him, listening to the eager cheers outside, and seeing the earnest look in her eyes, Tesolius hesitated slightly, then smiled.

"Go and win, prove yourself, prove to everyone, prove your strength and courage, prove that you deserve more, prove that you are qualified to stand next to me."

Karila grinned, her sharp teeth making her look as fierce as a hungry wolf. She thrust out her ample chest, hands on her hips, a triumphant air on her face.

"Of course!"

…………

"Champion! Champion! Champion!..."

"Warrior, look this way!!"

"Defeat this woman! Kalisi! Take the honor that is rightfully yours!"

"Defeat him! Karila! Show the strength befitting a centurion and prove the glory of the Golden Legion!!"

…………

The entire stands were in complete chaos. The huge arena, which could hold 8 people, was clearly exceeding its designed capacity. Every corner was filled with enthusiastic crowds, and all 70 rows of seats were packed, with not a single empty space.

Merchants, artisans, vendors, doctors… even soldiers gathered together, shouting and cheering for their favorite champion. Occasionally, conflicts would break out, causing small disturbances that were only calmed down by soldiers maintaining order.

Soldiers under Tersolius's command, whoever was able to get leave, took advantage of this rare opportunity to come here in civilian clothes to cheer on Nicot, a member of their legion who was quite capable in combat, hoping that the glory of the Imperial Championship would once again fall to the Golden Legion.

The soldiers of the Northern Military Region were clearly not going to give up easily. Many officers even managed to get here, and their cheers and shouts were exceptionally uniform and orderly, making them easy to distinguish from the crowd.

Everyone was eagerly anticipating today's champion, hoping to hear that glorious name. Even before the competition began, their noise was almost deafening, obscuring the sun from the sky with its cacophony of yellow dust.

Until a desolate and distant horn sounded, stirring up the falling dust and carrying far and wide, until the towering giant drum was struck forcefully by a strong soldier, the sound shaking the hearts of everyone present, the once noisy and bustling arena suddenly fell silent, everyone waiting for that exciting moment.

A master of ceremonies in a red robe appeared atop the most prestigious and towering grandstand. His voice, amplified by a special device, resonated loudly and far, reaching the ears of everyone present, even those in the most crowded corners near the arena entrance, unable to see the arena at all, could hear him clearly:

"Honorable and dignified people of the Empire! By His Majesty's command, I am honored to serve as the announcer for today's championship duel! We are all witnesses to this glorious duel, today! Under the witness of His Majesty and the Senate, and under the witness of all the citizens, we shall witness a new champion, a new Imperial champion, being born here!!"

The words had barely left his lips when a tidal wave of cheers erupted. Everyone was pounding on the railings, chairs, and anything else that could make a sound, cheering in unison.

"Champion! Champion! Champion!!!"

As the master of ceremonies raised his hand again, all the sounds vanished instantly, as if covered by something.

"We are about to witness a glorious moment! Please allow me to introduce our powerful and courageous championship candidate—"

The towering archway at the northernmost end was slowly pushed open by soldiers, and a strong, tall warhorse emerged, snorting loudly. The figure riding on horseback was fully armored, resembling an iron tower. In his right hand, he carried an iron spear ten feet long and as thick as a goose egg, while in his left hand was a round shield painted with sunflower patterns, large enough to cover his entire upper body.

"The glorious and formidable First Thousand-Man Commander of the Northern Legion, who has slain 186 barbarian heads and achieved numerous feats! Satriados Kalisi!"

The cheers, as loud as ocean waves, immediately overwhelmed the knight on horseback. Countless petals almost buried him completely. These flowers, which had cost a lot of money, were being generously scattered to welcome the warrior's arrival!

"And! His opponent—"

The tall archway on the south side opened again, and the tall and majestic Passatria warhorses strode out, nimbly carrying their heavy armored steeds and elite warriors, all fully armored and wielding the same long spears and shields.

"In his very first competition, he has fought his way through the competition, defeating numerous warriors and remaining undefeated until now—a warrior from the North! Turiat Carila! Let us welcome this warrior!!"

The cheers, no less enthusiastic than before, surged forth, even mixed with some women's screams, and large swaths of colorful petals were splashed down... Karila, somewhat impatient, kept reaching out to brush the petals off her helmet.

"Both of them are brave warriors who fought their way through the enemy lines! They are both victors who have defeated countless opponents, and today, the champion will be decided between them!"

"There are no complicated rules. This competition will be divided into two parts—horse combat and foot combat! It will continue until one side is unable to fight. If both fall at the same time, the one with the more serious injury will be the loser! Today, let us witness this together. Please prepare yourselves!!"

………………

The arena was spacious enough to accommodate hundreds of cavalrymen in a chaotic melee. In this crucial battle, there were few rules; the entire arena was their stage, their hunting ground to display their bravery and skill.

Whether it's direct confrontation or guerrilla warfare, both are permissible and honorable actions here... Of course, methods like grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it into the opponent's eyes are not allowed; everything can only be accomplished through the weapons in hand and the armor on one's body.

The duel will only come to an end when one side is completely incapacitated and knocked to the ground—a process that is by no means safe or reliable. In fact, even with sturdy and thick armor, there are always unlucky individuals who suffer severe injuries, either dead or wounded, in the annual tournaments.

But none of the Imperials who stand here, who appear in this arena, see anything wrong with it—war is inherently about bloodshed and death. While death in the arena is not an outcome everyone desires, it does not deter them from taking action.

A young man with a sharp, wiry face and short hair shaved almost to his scalp frowned as he looked at the two men poised to attack in the arena. After a slight hesitation, he turned to look at his companion beside him:

"I recall that Centurion Karila hasn't received any training in mounted combat! Her several outstanding victories were all achieved on foot, so this first mounted engagement might be disadvantageous for her..."

A gloomy middle-aged man with a hideous scar on his face smirked. Yuriedos wore a silk robe, the kind of short robe most common among the imperial people. If it weren't for his barely suppressed ferocity, one might mistake him for an ordinary, wealthy citizen.

“Take a close look at her movements in the stirrups… that’s not how a novice should act at all. She not only skillfully masters the techniques of riding a warhorse, but also has enough room to launch an attack from horseback. She’s not as vulnerable as you’re worried about. Don’t forget, she has been trained by the general.”

The young man suddenly understood. He watched as Karila skillfully maneuvered the reins, positioning her horse's head directly towards the enemy's right, ready to attack. Her opponent did the same, and the two immediately chose a head-on confrontation—the most bloody and dangerous kind of confrontation…

"Watch closely, kid. This is a battle between the most powerful warriors, a place you can't reach yet, until one day you can become such a valiant warrior yourself."

"Of course! I want to become a great person like my father."

Yuriedos reached out and put his arm around the young man's neck, laughing heartily as he explained everything that was happening to his son. At that moment, yellow smoke rose from the ground, and the sounds of men shouting and horses neighing filled the air; a fierce battle was about to begin.

………………

The cool wine in his glass gleamed softly. Thesolius rested his cheek on his hand, watching the vast arena as both sides finally prepared. At the command of the master of ceremonies, they spurred their horses into a charge, simultaneously bracing themselves for the attack and preparing to unseat their opponents.

As his fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the chair, his sharp eyes remained fixed on the Rigut girl he had met in Cerisonas, quietly awaiting the outcome of their confrontation.

218 Battle for the Championship (2)

How terrifying is the power and might of a galloping warhorse? Those who face its charge know best that it is an irresistible and terrifying force, making one clearly aware that the next moment they will be trampled under the hooves of that beast, or pierced and sent flying by its sturdy lance.

Only well-trained, elite, and brave heavy infantry could face this terrifying force. The heavily armored cavalry, with both men and horses in full armor, was the symbol of absolute military power in this era, representing the most terrifying destructive force, and the overwhelming impact and trampling.

But even with just one man and one horse, when the armor is donned, when the spirited warhorse begins to quicken its pace, and when the fully armed knight raises his lance, one can witness the terrifying moment amidst the clash of swords and the thunder of hooves…

In the turbulent world, the two championship contenders exchanged only brief glances before launching a relentless attack. Both rode the finest Passatria warhorses, clad in double layers of heavy armor; a mere graze or collision could reduce flesh to dust, sending opponents flying like rag dolls. Such a clash was destined to be thrilling and awe-inspiring.

The deafening cheers were unconsciously suppressed at this moment. Everyone stared wide-eyed, anxiously and eagerly watching the two people from Changzhong who were about to clash. Their mouths were wide open, but no sound came out of their throats. They just anxiously clenched everything they could hold onto...

The next instant, the sharp clang of clashing metal echoed in everyone's ears. A shard of a shield was tossed high into the air, spear shafts collided and rubbed against each other, then quickly separated as the warhorses moved past each other…

A terrible gash had been carved into the shield in Karila's left hand—the result of the recent clash. The immense momentum of the warhorse and the terrifying destructive power of the sturdy spear nearly destroyed the defenses on her left hand.

The entire shield's structure had been destroyed. This sturdy shield, made of the strongest and most durable oak, covered with thick leather, and with steel edges, had lost most of its defensive capabilities after just one engagement, becoming a hindrance that slowed down movement.

His body swayed briefly from the jostling and pushing. But his well-trained warhorse quickly shifted its hooves, restoring its master's balance. At the same time, it raised its long head, ready for the next clash…

In the first exchange, Karila was visibly at a disadvantage, immediately eliciting gasps from the surrounding audience. A cacophony of whispers followed, but it had no effect on her whatsoever.

Without hesitation, he tucked the spear shaft under his arm, reached out with his right hand to untie the leather strap securing the shield to his left hand, threw the broken shield to the ground, and began to grip the spear with both hands.

This undoubtedly enhances the ability to control the spear, but at the same time, it abandons an indispensable defensive measure—although this measure is no longer of any use.

After creating some distance, both sides simultaneously turned their horses around, adjusted their directions, and charged again without a moment's pause! Facing the opponent's spears, they spurred their mighty warhorses forward once more, their blood boiling with excitement!

The situation changed so quickly that many people didn't even have time to react before Karila had already thrown away her damaged shield and prepared for the second round of combat. Many were so nervous that they could hardly breathe, their mouths agape, emitting dry, hoarse sounds, until a slap from a companion brought them back to their senses.

The Passatria, galloping at full speed, traversed the wide arena in just a few breaths, and in the blink of an eye, the second clash had already occurred...

Without hesitation, the burly Karisi thrust his spear forward. At the same time, his intact shield in his left hand firmly covered half of his body, and the spear tip, precise and powerful, ruthlessly and skillfully pierced Karisi's shoulder!

He had killed countless self-important knights from the Western countries. This one strike was enough to tear through double layers of heavy armor and kill any opponent on the spot!

In the blink of an eye, victory is victory and defeat is defeat; the outcome is always decided in an instant… With almost frantic composure, he used his left hand to deflect the spear that had pierced the shield along the side of his body, while simultaneously releasing his prepared left hand, letting the spear fly out along with the shield in his hand, without pulling or deforming his right hand.

He was certain he would win this day's glory, certain he would triumph as always... He was waiting, waiting for the sound of his chainmail being torn apart by this terrible blow, waiting for the sound of bones breaking and flesh shattering... which would also be the clarion call and cheers announcing his victory.

The weakest point was precisely found by the tip of his spear—there was only one layer of chainmail as a lining between the shoulder armor and the breastplate. He watched as the chainmail rings were torn apart by the sturdy spearhead, creating a huge gash... and then it went through the other end without a trace of blood on the gleaming spearhead!

In an instant, she realized that her opponent had made a move, and as her spear grazed her flesh, Kalissi instinctively reached for the short hammer at her waist. Then, in the next instant, she felt a tremendous force coming from her waist, and her whole body spun around as she crashed heavily onto the soft yellow sand. She rolled five or six times before she could recover from the terrible inertia.

It took him a good ten breaths to get up from the ground, while his opponent was still struggling on the ground, breathing heavily. It took him a while to finally manage to get up and wipe the blood from his face.

"Are you crazy?... You actually dragged me off your horse and broke free from your mount?! Aren't you afraid of being trampled to death by your own horse?!"

After a long while, Kalissi finally couldn't hold back any longer and said those words. The leather handle of the iron rod in his hand creaked as he gripped it tightly with excitement.

Taking a few deep breaths, Karila's expression quickly regained its composure, and she seemed to have been fully recharged. She stretched her shoulders and legs, reached behind her and pulled out two spiked battle axes, eager to put them to use.

"I'm no match for you on horseback, I knew that after our first encounter. To win, I have to drag you into foot combat, which is my specialty! And..."

Carila smiled as she glanced at the departing warhorse:

"Salted fish are very clever creatures! They would never step on me. I even deliberately chose the right direction to pull you onto the ground!"

Despite the dull pain still throbbing in his shoulder, Kalishi had relaxed completely. He straightened up, reached out and unfastened the leather strap at his chin, removing his full-face helmet.

This was a fierce-looking middle-aged man—with the most common hairstyle for Imperial soldiers, and a hideous scar running from the top of his head down to his eye, as if an axe had once cleaved deep into his skull, splitting part of his head apart.

Even the side of his mouth had a deep knife mark, and the skin on it had been damaged, giving it a smooth, oily texture.

The man took two deep breaths, then spoke solemnly:

"I must pay tribute to you. You are a formidable opponent. It is an honor to duel with such a tenacious and honorable warrior as you."

Karila sniffed the blood flowing from her nose and let out a slightly silly laugh:

"Hahaha! You're not bad either! You're probably the second strongest among all the opponents I know... If you include Alka, you might be the third. I'm very happy to be able to fight someone as strong as you! Let's have a good fight and not hold back!"

"Oh, may I ask who the first place is... You don't need to say, I pretty much already know who it is."

With a slight smile, Kalishi put on his helmet and gave his own answer:

"my pleasure."

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

A continuous, storm-like scream had engulfed every corner; many who had witnessed the terrifying scene had even closed their eyes in fear, unwilling to witness the horrific sight of the two warriors perishing under the horses' hooves.

That kind of ending is definitely not an honor; it's just a terrible accident that no one wants to see! Many people couldn't help but stand up from their seats, letting out panicked cries...

But then, just a dozen breaths later, cheers erupted again—amidst the tidal wave of cheers from the audience, the two champion candidates stood up one after the other, and seemingly unharmed, drew their weapons and began to confront each other.

In that instant, the audience, whose emotions had been stretched to the limit in a short period of time, erupted into an unprecedented frenzy of cheers. Many people couldn't even hear what they were saying, but just kept opening their mouths and making strange, incomprehensible noises in a crazy manner, and desperately pushing their bodies forward.

It wasn't until the soldiers maintaining order used their sticks to calm down some of the more outspoken individuals that the atmosphere began to return to normal.

Looking at the golden cup that he had just squeezed out of shape and twisted in his hand, and the corner of his clothes stained with the spilled bright red wine, Thesolius smiled and placed the cup on the servant's tray beside him, taking the soft cashmere towel to wipe the wine stains off his clothes.

"This girl is prone to doing unexpected things, isn't she?"

The emperor's chuckled voice came from the side, and Tersolius shook his head helplessly:

"She always tends to resort to extreme measures, in every aspect, and prefers to use more radical methods to achieve the best results... I'm not sure if this can be considered a flaw."

"Alright, we'll find out soon enough..." The emperor lazily reached out and picked up a peach from a plate held by a servant beside him, observing the battle unfolding in the vast arena with great interest.

"She has indeed become much smarter, but she is still so reckless..."

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

Fighting in heavy armor, especially on foot, inevitably consumes a lot of physical strength, making people more prone to fatigue. This is not only due to energy consumption, but also because the heavy armor does not dissipate heat easily, making body temperature higher.

Battles fought in heavy armor are destined to be a dual test of will and physical strength. The mere fact that one can accomplish this is enough to eliminate the weak and cowards. And at this moment, the people of the capital are witnessing an epic battle of armored warriors...