Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Another cloud of dust rose, and from afar, the silver gleam of the armor plates pierced through the yellow dust. The dull thud of hooves was barely audible, but felt like rolling thunder, crushing one's heart in waves. It squeezed out the last bit of courage, the last bit of will, the last bit of determination, and pulverized them into dust.

Amidst billowing dust and vast plains, amidst the sprawling military camps, a magnificent double-headed eagle banner pierced the dust and emerged into the sunlight. On the black silk, the golden double-headed eagle stretched its talons to the side. The tassels and gold decorations on the banner were extremely luxurious, exuding an astonishing aura even from such a distance.

The armored cavalry, now numbering over 2000, emerged from the billowing dust. Both men and horses were clad in armor, their gleaming armor shining in the sun. Under the clear sky, they resembled a drawn blade, its cold light gleaming and unstoppable, charging towards the city with a terrifying and ferocious aura.

The veteran cried out in alarm, his whole body trembling like a leaf, and he involuntarily took two steps back. His face was deathly pale, but the pain in his face and hands prevented him from collapsing to the ground. He simply pointed a trembling finger into the distance:

"It's Thesolius! Thesolius is here!!!"

His desperate, panicked cries did not elicit any reprimands or beatings from the officer this time, because the noble officer, also pale-faced, stood by the battlements, craning his neck to look.

Just as gasps of surprise echoed from the city walls, and some people almost thought that the armored cavalry was about to charge down to the city, the dazzling iron armor slowly stopped a few arrows away from the city. In an instant, it parted orderly to the sides, revealing a magnificent knight holding a flag high in the middle and dozens of splendidly armored generals.

Among them, the most eye-catching was a general wearing a magnificent eagle helmet. The long plume on the helmet was a blood-red color and fluttered slightly in the autumn wind. He was tall and had long arms, upright and agile, just like an eagle in the sky looking down at the world.

Countless eyes on the city wall were focused on this figure. They watched as he looked around with an air of confidence and arrogance, pointing fingers at their city from afar, conversing and discussing with the generals beside him, as if they were already trapped, like meat on a plate, at the mercy of those who would devour them.

What pride and confidence! But no one here dared to say that the other side was delusional or lacked the ability... Anyone with a sound mind knew very well that for the one outside, this was not an insurmountable goal. Rather, concentrating their forces in this city was a desperate gamble, an attempt to drag out the war and force the other side to return empty-handed.

For someone like him, he is undoubtedly the chosen one of this era, a superior being above millions. Why shouldn't he be arrogant? Why shouldn't he feel that everything is already within his grasp? There are few things in the world he cannot accomplish, and few people as dazzling as him.

Even his mere presence was enough to set the entire city on edge...

…………

Tersolius was of course unaware of the current state of the city's garrison, but he could guess some things from certain clues. At this moment, he was studying the city's structure and layout, looking for possible weaknesses.

The city before us was neatly and imposingly built, comparable to Alpert, and could be considered one of the few fortified cities in the south.

The moat alone, over ten meters wide, was enough to cause immense trouble for the attacking forces, not to mention the densely packed towers. The towering battlements, the countless arrow slits, and the deliberately protruding, difficult-to-climb walls, all seamlessly joined by thick, sturdy stone bricks, with intentionally protruding and vertical sections between the towering walls, ensured that no matter where the attackers went, there was at least one wall that could continuously fire arrows and stones.

The original stone bridge over the river had been demolished, leaving not even the piers. The towering city gate was constructed of thick iron beams wrapped with heavy wooden planks, and it was clear that it had undergone further reinforcement. The city walls surrounding the gate were riddled with arrow slits, and in some places there were circular and square gaps, undoubtedly traps that would release rolling stones and oil. Once reckless attackers ventured into the gate's passageway, they could unleash a torrent of firepower in a short time, causing terrible casualties.

The towers on the wall were visibly covered with ballistae, small catapults, and all sorts of defensive equipment, densely packed and jagged, leaving no space unused. This was a war fortress built with the combined strength of a nation, meant to become a grinding millstone, crushing attackers and defenders alike.

The city certainly seemed tricky, but Tersolius already had a rough idea...

248 Siege (2)

Thick, sturdy wooden beams were joined together using mortise and tenon joints, then nailed with steel nails the thickness of a finger, and assembled in a specific order, quickly creating a tall wooden frame.

The thickest boom requires dozens of people to move. With the help of pulleys and a gantry, it is slowly moved to the right position. The oxen and horses are whipped and spurred forward. Craftsmen and apprentices climb up and down, installing each sturdy part in the right place and applying refined grease to the lubricated areas.

The installation of the huge counterweight box was quite laborious. This is the most important power output part, and no one dared to be negligent. Only after repeated inspections would the counterweight be added inside and the winch and slings installed.

The boulders used for launching require the combined efforts of several people to carry and put into the rope bag. They are all polished well in advance to ensure that they can land in the best possible flight posture and are not easily broken. They will directly grind a road through the city.

These are stone projectiles specifically designed to destroy buildings and official business. In addition, there are also crushing stone projectiles specifically designed to kill people. They are wrapped in iron netting and will fly everywhere when they hit a hard surface, causing a bloody scene in the dense crowd. All of them were prepared in large quantities in advance and transported to the siege camp by the logistics troops.

Ten heavy catapults were lined up below the city wall, protected by a large cavalry force in a heavily guarded military camp. This allowed them to adjust and test the catapults at will, making final preparations far from the range of the enemy's catapults.

This catapult was the masterpiece of imperial engineers and the crystallization of the wisdom of imperial scholars. It was incredibly tall, and each hurdle it launched was like a storm, with an extremely long range and immense force. Every impact produced a thunderous roar, and even the weakest city walls would collapse after a short time. If an unlucky soul was hit, no matter how heavy their armor, they would be crushed into a pulp on the ground.

At the precisely calculated location, soldiers had already dug a tall earthen mound and built sturdy fortifications to protect these precious heavy catapults. Only after all preparations were completed and the machines were transported to their designated positions by strong oxen and horses.

As the sky turned red and smoke began to rise from the military camp, the first stone projectile was finally loaded into a net with the help of several strong auxiliary soldiers. After calculations and adjustments, the artisans and scholars accompanying the army issued orders one after another.

As the mechanism was pressed down hard, the heavy launching lever was released, and the immense force propelled the heavy stone projectile directly into the air from the rails. The huge counterweight box made a sharp, piercing sound as it crashed down, prompting a craftsman to shout a rebuke:

"Toledo, you little bastard, I'll skin you alive! You haven't had enough of that oil yet!!"

The moment he finished speaking, a deafening roar like muffled thunder came from afar, accompanied by a slightly fading scream, which made him involuntarily turn his gaze back.

The sturdy crenellations of the city wall were crushed to pieces like rotten wood. The huge stone projectile broke through the wall without any hindrance and rolled directly into the city, crushing two soldiers who couldn't dodge in time into pieces of flesh. Their internal organs and blood were squeezed and sprayed everywhere. It finally stopped slowly after smashing a large hole in a two-story house.

"The position is off, the position is off. Let's try moving it three prairies to the left this time!"

The craftsmen immediately got to work, some applying oil, others making adjustments, preparing for the next launch.

Such bombardment is difficult to be precise. It can only be fine-tuned through repeated launches to maximize the chance of hitting the target. Moreover, it is not something that can be accomplished in a day or two.

The counterattack from the city wall had arrived, but most of it was blocked by the iron-clad wooden trolleys and the thick earthen slopes. The rest had mostly gone astray, which marked the area where the catapults were located as a dangerous place. The soldiers retreated under orders, leaving only the auxiliary soldiers and craftsmen responsible for operating the catapults, as well as the scholars responsible for calculation and adjustment.

Soon, the catapults fired a second volley, crashing against the city wall with a deafening roar and sending debris flying. The screams of agony could be heard even from a great distance, and visible gaps appeared in the sturdy battlements. The catapults flew through the air with a whooshing sound, like the whispers of death, ready to shatter people into pieces at any moment.

…………

"Next comes the hard work, we can't rush it. We need to clean what needs to be cleaned and disassemble what needs to be disassembled before we start."

As the massive boulders hurtled through the air and crashed against the city walls, bringing screams of agony, Tersolius stood in the camp, lost in thought. The Empire had made ample preparations for this war, not only for winter clothing, firewood, and food supplies, but also for catapult ammunition, spare parts, and stored dry materials—enough to last him until next spring.

Of course, he did not intend to drag things out until then. War is destined to bring destruction and death. Even the most elite army cannot withstand continuous combat, and the country also needs to recuperate.

The city is now completely surrounded. It is now just prey that has been driven into a trap. All that remains is to hunt down this behemoth while avoiding being hurt by it.

A cheer erupted from the side as a catapult, by sheer luck, struck one of the enemy's towers. The scaffolding on the tower, used to cover the enemy catapults, was shattered into pieces by the heavy stone projectiles, but unfortunately, it did not damage the catapults behind it.

The craftsmen and auxiliary soldiers quickly reloaded the stone projectiles and fired them again, but this time they missed quite a bit and crashed into the sturdy and thick city wall, shattering several of the stone bricks.

This is a common occurrence. Even if the angle remains the same, various reasons can cause the projectile to change its original landing point, so people are not too disappointed.

In the rear military camp, even more craftsmen were busy, using various ingenious tools and powerful livestock to move thick wooden beams, preparing to build tall siege towers that could reach the city walls, as well as other things to breach the city walls.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but he still had some doubts—his offensive had indeed been too successful, encountering almost no decent resistance until he reached the city… Up until now, he had not seen any real resistance from the Hols, nor any real support from them.

What do they intend to use to resist the iron hooves of their own army? Do they really plan to force them to retreat through attrition? Don't they know that with their military strength, they can easily divide their cities one by one, and then, like cracking open a conch shell to extract its flesh, leisurely take their spoils?

He didn't think the current Holsian king was a fool... at least based on the intelligence he had gathered, the other party was shrewd, capable, and ambitious, and he found it hard to believe that such a person would use such a passive and negative method to fight against him.

Now, they have amassed a massive military force in this city, forcing themselves to not ignore this important city—it looks more like they intend to stay here until they destroy it and take control of the position.

Therefore, they must have an effective measure to deal with it; otherwise, such an action would only be a waste of a significant part of their country's strength, like gathering crabs from the beach, making them into canned crab meat, and sending them to him.

What exactly is this measure? ...Tesolius pondered silently, while keenly sensing a hint of danger.

--------

The veteran was thankful for his foresight; the stone bricks before him were covered in a sticky mass of flesh and blood, still steaming, interspersed with tattered pieces of cloth and scattered iron rings, with crushed and torn internal organs everywhere. It was known that anyone even slightly weak would go mad at the sight.

Even he dared not look anymore, forcing himself to turn away from the nausea.

He knew which places were the most secure, the safest, and the least likely to be targeted. His judgment proved correct; several unlucky men were crushed nearby, but he was unharmed. However, this good luck also brought him enormous psychological pressure—he had no idea whether this good luck would continue or whether he would live to see tomorrow.

It was a terrible torture, a sharp blade aimed at the mind, which would cut you to pieces if you relaxed even slightly... When it was his turn to be on duty later, he had to drink his fill first, which was something he and many of his comrades would do, just to relieve the terrible pressure of war.

Now, the recruits who hadn't been crushed had mostly learned to take cover in sturdy, reliable places, just like the veterans, which significantly reduced their losses. But he knew very well that this was only temporary—the Imperial catapults had an extremely long range and immense power. These heavy stone projectiles were meant to break through city defenses, not to kill people…

Once those horrible oil slicks and flying pebbles appear here, the death toll will be much higher than this...

And this was only the first day... The enemy arrived this morning and launched an attack in the afternoon. By evening, some people were screaming in terror.

The rotting flesh and blood on the city wall were quickly cleared away. Laborers and slaves would sprinkle lime on it and then clean it up with shovels and other tools. Leaving these horrific and cruel things here would only have a continuous negative impact.

When the new unit rotated him out, the veteran returned to his barracks without stopping. He pulled out a ceramic bottle with a wooden stopper from the corner under his bed, and without even taking a deep breath, he took a big gulp to relax.

Every time a boulder falls into the city, it brings screams and shrieks... Not everyone gets hit directly, but there are always terrified people screaming at the top of their lungs. These sounds usually stop quickly, mostly driven by whips. A few particularly foolish ones are taught by swords, making them understand that they cannot vent their fear indiscriminately.

The situation should be better tomorrow. He scratched his face impatiently, then jolted at the bloody welts from the whip, cursed, and took another big gulp, completely oblivious to what was happening outside.

………………

Eerie sounds emanated from the dark dungeon. If you listened carefully, you could hear the sloshing of slimy skin rubbing against damp moss, the scraping of bony claws against hard stone bricks, the constant slapping of tentacles, and a low, strange murmur hidden in the darkness—enough to keep any sane person away from this place.

A soldier pushed a wooden cart into the dungeon. The cart was filled with fresh flesh and blood, and the wheels were reinforced with iron parts to ensure they could bear greater weight.

The scent of blood immediately caused a stir in the darkness. Something struck the iron fence with a clanging sound, but it was impossible to see what it was. A look of panic appeared on the soldiers' faces.

Threatened by this eerie atmosphere, he decided to finish what he was doing as soon as possible and leave.

His tool was a long, three-pronged fork, which allowed him to easily throw large chunks of flesh, cut into pieces, from the cart through the gaps in the dungeon's iron doors. He threw three pieces into each cell, once a day.

He was quick and efficient, finishing everything in no time. Then, without looking back, he pushed his cart away, leaving behind the horrifying sounds of chewing, tearing, and slimy wriggling.

Not long after, the dungeon door opened again, and light shone into the dark area covered by moss—this was definitely not a place suitable for human habitation. It was dark and damp, and no matter how strong a person was, living here for a long time would definitely have an effect. Even the soldiers in the past would just throw prisoners here to be gnawed by insects and rats, while they themselves lived in the dry and comfortable barracks outside.

But now, the climate here is considered suitable for new residents.

The short, black-robed man walked in slowly, his footsteps barely audible. His black robe covered most of his body, revealing only his withered fingers and yellowed nails.

He slowly walked to the first cell and gently tapped the iron bars with his fingers. In the darkness, a pale white figure crawled up in front of him, its face covered with black tentacles that clung to the bars, revealing sharp, dense teeth.

He examined it carefully for a while, his gaze sweeping over the areas with stitches. After confirming there were no abnormalities, he nodded, seemingly satisfied…

249 Siege (3)

He examined them one by one, carefully admiring these masterpieces sculpted from flesh and blood. No creature in nature could be so agile, so deadly, like an unassuming leaf with sharp barbs on its underside…

Apart from the necessary parts, most of the cumbersome parts were removed, and more flexible and agile limbs were added. The shape of the skeleton was adjusted to make each part more coordinated and perfect, so that these creations could easily climb through various complex terrains like the most flexible and agile spiders, and even hang themselves upside down from the roof.

What helps them accomplish their mission are their deadly bone blades and tentacles, as well as their terrifying, blood-sucking venom.

These things might be ineffective against the Empire's renowned and excellent armor, but everyone has moments of weakness. Even the most distinguished generals will remove their armor and rest in their tents. At that point, all it takes to kill them is a drop of poison or a sharp blade piercing their throat and heart.

Fortunately, to get these creatures to track, the target doesn't need to be identified by a specific scent like a hunting dog. With certain sophisticated techniques, they still retain basic cognitive abilities, making target identification and tracking much simpler.

Now he needs to make the final preparations for these guys, to keep them at their peak...

After confirming that all the suture sites and mutated limbs were in good condition, and that his perception of these things remained stable as always, with no signs of physical or psychological collapse, he began to prepare what he would need next.

Two huge wooden barrels were brought in, and the stench of blood emanating from them disgusted the soldiers who were helping. They threw them down and left immediately. They felt a strong aversion to the contents of the barrels, and although they didn't know what they were, it was better to stay away.

It must be said that their premonition was quite accurate. When the knife was inserted into the lid of the wooden barrel and pried it open, what was exposed to the dim light of the dungeon was a pile of organs squeezed together, with smooth grooves, protrusions and patterns, blood red with a hint of paleness, soft and elastic... the most developed organ in the human body.

These organs all looked quite fresh, with no signs of decay. The entire brain and cerebellum, along with a portion of the brainstem, had been removed. They contained a large amount of fat and nutrients and were gleaming with a sticky sheen in the dimly lit dungeon.

Any sane person would find this sight repulsive, yet he took a deep breath, as if the stench were a fragrant flower, and a look of ecstasy appeared on his face.

"...Ah, where wisdom lies..."

Immediately afterwards, he pulled out a small, semi-transparent bottle from his pocket. The outer surface was rough, and only the blue liquid inside could be vaguely seen.

He opened the small bottle sealed with a special soft, leathery substance and carefully dripped out a small portion of the liquid inside. His expression was extremely conflicted, as if he were pouring gold into a river, unwilling to waste a single drop. He hesitated for a long time before finally finishing, and then carefully put it away.

After doing all this, he turned around and opened the iron door of the cell, letting the pale, twisted creature inside come out and gather around the two wooden barrels, attracted by a certain smell.

"Eat up, eat up, this is the last time... Whether it succeeds or not depends on you..."

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

What day is it now? ...I think it's the third day.

The old soldier idly munched on a piece of jerky when a deadly whistle echoed from the sky. A powerful stone projectile slammed into the city wall, sending stones flying everywhere and rattling against shields. Some even pierced through the oak shields, while those that hit people were either killed or maimed, leaving them unable to move and only able to lie on the ground groaning.

There used to be a small catapult on the tower next to him, but now the tower has collapsed halfway, the broken bricks have piled up into a small mountain, and the catapult on top has become a pile of scrap wood, lying everywhere.

This was the place where he was hiding, and the facts proved that his judgment was quite correct—the area that had been destroyed was not likely to be targeted by the enemy again, and the large number of stones piled up here also formed a thicker and more reliable defense, allowing him to sit on the ground and relax.

Several nearby soldiers also noticed this and gathered with him there, secretly trembling as they listened to the screams and the deafening crashes of live ammunition hitting the city walls from other places.

"When will this ever end?... Six people have died right next to me today alone, and our catapults have been almost completely dismantled. I reckon that one over there will collapse today too..."

Before the words were finished, a huge solid shot slammed into the tower beside it with a scream of terror. The already cracked and riddled stone bricks shattered completely, unable to support the weight of the tower. It collapsed amidst the soldiers' terrified screams. The soldiers operating the catapults were lucky enough to tumble down, while the unlucky ones were buried in the pile of stones along with the catapults.

Several people fell silent for a moment. After a long while, the soldier who had spoken earlier finally said dryly:

"See, I told you so..."

"We're no match for the Imperials' catapults!" A soldier nearby slammed his fist into a rock, then grimaced and rubbed his fist.

"Those big guys can throw such heavy stones so far and so hard... To be honest, if we don't find a way to get rid of those things, our city will fall sooner or later!"

The veteran's expression changed. He glared fiercely at the outspoken fellow, then listened intently for a while before calming down slightly.

"You idiot, you should have your tongue cut out! Do you even know what time it is? How dare you say such a thing? Be careful, or you'll be hung on that pole too!"

The soldier knew he had spoken out of turn, and at the same time subconsciously glanced back at a long pole inside the city wall—that was used to execute those who undermined morale and deserters. Sometimes they would be beheaded and hung up there, and sometimes they would be hanged directly from it.

Based on what he just said, if anyone reports him, even the best outcome would be a beating that leaves him half-dead. The city is under very strict control these days, and anyone who says anything discouraging could be in trouble...

"But you're absolutely right..."

The old soldier sighed and took another sip of water—he couldn't drink alcohol while standing on the city wall, but he subconsciously wanted to find something to drink, so he often drank water from his water bag.

"If no one is holding them back outside the city... but we are already struggling to defend Chengdu, who would dare to engage the Imperials in open battle? This is just how it is... if anyone dares to go out, they will probably be crushed by their cavalry in a single encounter."

How about a nighttime raid?

A soldier with a youthful face asked the question, and the others all wore expressions of bewilderment, not knowing whether to laugh or cry:

"To evade the light cavalry's searches and patrols at night, to reach the heavily guarded catapults, and then to set them on fire... all without alerting any of those tens of thousands of people, is something no human could do? If you really had that kind of skill, wouldn't it be better to just assassinate their governor? Wouldn't that kill two birds with one stone?"

The young soldier realized that what he had said was too naive, so he awkwardly shut his mouth and stopped speaking, simply listening to the others talk.

"Hey you over there, keep an eye on things. Don't let us all get caught, or none of us will be able to escape."