Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Christina then realized that Fersitala had stopped crying, and only the tear stains remaining on her little face proved that the crying was not an illusion.

The older female official wore a kind smile and never showed any sign of anxiety.

“This happens often. Don’t disturb the crying children at this time. They are fighting in Grandpa Sonja’s arms… Our little girl probably lost, that’s why she’s crying so hard.”

A gentle smile bloomed on Christina's lips as her gaze involuntarily turned to the old man statue carved from the finest rosewood on the cabinet beside her—it was Soya, the empire's protector of childbirth and infants. Families with newborns would often place such a statue to protect women and children.

This was a very common phenomenon throughout the empire. The death of a child was considered a terrible misfortune and a curse, especially since this age group needed more attention and protection. People believed that the statue of Sonja would protect pregnant women and newborns, ensuring that disasters and evil stayed away from them.

According to historical records, Soya was a medical master from hundreds of years ago who single-handedly promoted the development of medical technology throughout the empire, especially significantly reducing the rate of difficult childbirth and infant mortality. Before that, even the healthiest and strongest women faced considerable risks during childbirth, and often both mother and child died.

As she watched, Ristina suddenly burst out laughing, raising her hand to cover her mouth, but her eyes still crinkled into a smile.

"The thought that my father sent this makes me laugh... I didn't expect him to have thought of this... but he still didn't want to come and see his granddaughter and grandson in person, so he asked that guy Rostoia to send it over."

As she finished speaking, Christina sighed again, her expression a mixture of sadness and regret, but it was faint and vanished in an instant.

“I think the master isn’t unwilling to come, but rather unable to…”

Dolores hesitated for a moment, but ultimately said one more thing:

"The war in the south is going very smoothly, and the newly occupied territories must be dealt with as soon as possible. As the chief elder, the master can't possibly have any free time... Hasn't His Majesty been so busy these past few days that he hasn't had a moment to spare?"

"You don't need to comfort me, Dolores."

The baby in the cradle groggily opened his eyes, ready to end his not-so-long sleep and continue to fuss over his mother. Christina simply stroked his face with her fingers, making him drowsy again, and soon he curled up and fell into a deep sleep once more.

“I know what the old man is thinking… He’s never hidden it from me. I’m just saddened by it. After all, as the child he’s loved since childhood, we can’t even talk to each other anymore…”

"The reason he acquiesced to my marriage with Natamus was to leave me a way out... to ensure that no matter what happened to him, at least I would be safe... Maybe he had other considerations. After all, that old man is always very shrewd and always scheming against others. I'm not as smart as him."

The two of them tiptoed out of the room, leaving the two children to continue sleeping in their cradles. The soft fox fur blankets filled with goose down were enough to keep out any cold, not to mention the ceramic heating pipes buried under the house.

The moment she stepped outside, Dolores deftly grabbed a fox fur shawl from the nearby clothes rack and, as she turned to close the door, draped it over Christina's shoulders, protecting her mistress from the morning chill.

Snowflakes were falling from the sky, turning the surrounding black tiles and ground white. Before long, a thick layer of snow would accumulate, further lowering the temperature. Servants were currently clearing the snow with large shovels to ensure that busy people would not be slowed down.

Such scenery always evokes a deep sense of loneliness in people; even the most optimistic person would feel desolate standing here. Christina rubbed her hands together, then massaged her frostbitten face, and turned to her lady-in-waiting with a smile:

"I'm starting to miss Dr. Talina. I wonder how she manages to work for Tersolius... I also wonder how things are going with my slow-witted brother and the others. Maybe when they return from their campaign, I can organize a wedding for him?"

Dolores's face suddenly turned strange. Her expression became even more conflicted, as if she were considering whether she should speak. But after hesitating for a long time, her love and loyalty to her mistress prevailed. Amidst the mistress's strange expression, as if she thought her words had caused an awkward silence, she spoke:

"Miss, do you really think that's a good thing?..."

"Hmm? Is there a problem? I've personally spoken with them all. They're all good girls, and they'll definitely give birth to healthy, wonderful children! Just like my own children, healthy and lively. I can help take care of them."

Ristilna looked at her lady-in-waiting with a puzzled expression, while Dolores looked like she was about to grind her teeth in frustration, her expression laced with a hint of exasperation:

“Miss, haven’t you noticed His Majesty’s feelings for Lord Tersolius?…”

"Thoughts? What thoughts... Do you mean to say?!"

Christina was no fool; she was only given a hint and immediately realized what was going on, her face showing a surprised expression... a rich and varied range of emotions. If one had to summarize it accurately, it would be like discovering that a comrade-in-arms who had fought alongside her for over a decade in the war actually had special feelings for another comrade.

"No...it shouldn't be! Her Majesty is...!"

"Please trust my experience, Miss. I've seen many girls... And Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion, but His Majesty's intentions are almost obvious, it's just that you and Lord Tersolius have had difficulty perceiving them... I also find it hard to understand why you didn't see it, after all, His Majesty has been emperor for so many years yet has never shown any intention of marrying..."

Christina was stunned into a daze, her mind racing as she recalled the events of the past, trying to corroborate her judgment or prove Dolores's words.

The four of them shared a deep bond, a bond so strong that they would die for each other. It far surpassed ordinary friendship, a profound and precious emotion that had remained steadfast until now. This bond was so deep that it overshadowed many things, even preventing her from noticing the miraculous transformation in some of their feelings!

She knew perfectly well that her feelings for Natamus from the very beginning were love, and there was no question of change... But did Clautina feel the same way about Tersolius?!

She now clearly understood what her lady-in-waiting had just said and immediately believed it—after setting aside her preconceived notions, the details she recalled were quickly dispelling her doubts.

The servants in the courtyard were still busy, and large piles of snow were stacked in an inconspicuous corner. Everyone was preparing to welcome the new day, and the rising sun in the sky dyed the scattered snowflakes red.

“You’re right, Dolores… I did oversimplify things. Perhaps I should ask Her Majesty what she thinks… What are her plans?”

“I dare not say any more, Miss. I have already overstepped my bounds enough... but I think that as the esteemed Emperor, His Majesty must have many more factors to consider.”

The two huddled together, looking up at the sky and gazing at the golden, shimmering snowflakes. For a moment, neither of them knew what to say.

“Natamus definitely knows… why didn’t he tell me?”

"Perhaps the adult thinks you know too."

"What a blockhead..."

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

"Ah!"

Tersolius rubbed his nose, frowned, and said with some doubt:

"I feel a little uneasy. Is someone talking about me?"

"What does it mean?"

"It's just a local saying... It's said that if someone keeps talking about a certain person, they'll sense something, usually by sneezing, and it'll be a sneeze for no reason... It's just a joke, isn't it funny?"

A difficult expression crossed Tarina's face. After hesitating for a moment, she answered honestly:

"It's not exactly funny; 'interesting' would be a more accurate description..."

Tersolius nodded, seemingly unfazed, as if the sudden remark hadn't come from him at all, and continued to peruse the thick parchment on the table—the new paper, though produced and inexpensive, was of unreliable quality, so it was rarely used for important documents.

"It seems preparations are almost complete. I also owe a great debt to my good elder brother; otherwise, supplies from the rear wouldn't have been so easy to gather. It's time to send the army on their way. My soldiers are eager to earn new merits; how can we let them continue to waste time here..."

300 The Gathering of War (2)

The burning houses billowed thick smoke and gradually turned to ashes. Huge boulders crashed through the city walls with a terrifying roar and rolled into the street, crushing everything in their path and leaving behind a trail of broken bones and blood.

The once-solid city wall could no longer withstand such devastation. Visible cracks spread under the bombardment of heavy catapults, and finally collapsed like a landslide amidst the terrified screams of the people. The surging debris buried several soldiers who were unable to escape from the city wall and continued to spread into the city.

Desperate screams erupted from the throats of everyone who witnessed the scene. Watching the city walls collapse felt as if something important had been destroyed along with them, and people's confidence vanished in the blink of an eye.

A large group of soldiers fled in panic through the breach in the city wall. Even though they had just arrived and their weapons were not yet stained with blood, they still ran frantically, even slashing at anything in their way, whether it was a broken wooden fence, their own comrades, or even civilians.

This is an act that no commander can ignore... Such irrational and cowardly behavior often leads others to flee, causing the previously holdable defensive line to collapse instantly. If others are not made aware of the consequences of such behavior in time, the bitter fruit of defeat will inevitably fall into his hands.

"Release the arrows! Shoot them down!"

Sure enough, before the fleeing soldiers could escape the street, the archers positioned on high ground immediately opened fire with a volley of arrows on the officers' orders... The flying arrows brought forth blood and gore and screams, and in the blink of an eye, only the writhing bodies and twitching rotten flesh remained.

"Gather all of Lord Brades' men! Fight alongside me! Ten gold coins have died, but five survive!"

An officer immediately rallied his soldiers to move forward and prepare to block the breach. At that moment, the dust kicked up by the collapse of the city wall had not yet settled, and amidst the gray smoke, the dense sound of iron armor scraping against each other surged forth, making him realize that this was a critical moment of life and death. He didn't even bother to organize his formation and led his men to rush forward.

With such a generous reward, even the most cowardly person would at least have a moment to muster their courage. At this moment, their momentum was unstoppable, and their sharp spears were lined up like a forest, ready to pierce through anyone who came to attack!

The leading officer was even more excited, and his steps quickened... It is often said that a brave and resolute general can inspire the morale of soldiers and make them bravely move forward, but can't a brave and courageous soldier also inspire the commander? This is a major source of their confidence in victory.

At least at this moment, he truly believed that he could lead his men to push the enemy back and continue to defend the city...

incite!!

A sound like the screech of a venomous snake suddenly rang out. He blinked in confusion, not knowing where the sound came from. After taking two more steps forward, his gaze suddenly shifted to the ground beneath his feet. He fell straight to the ground like a wooden stake. A large black arrow, which had pierced through his armor in the chest, was embedded in his fletching and protruded bloodily from his back.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh whoosh!

The bowstring vibrated as deeply as a war drum. Black arrows, carrying deadly malice, pierced the bodies of officer after officer, as if death itself were calling their names, pulling their souls from their bodies one after another, leaving only their limbs pierced by the black arrows.

The soldiers didn't even have time to react, continuing their charge forward with inertia. But the final screams of the dying men beside them began to erode any remaining courage in their hearts, until one soldier suddenly turned around hysterically, looking at his officer nailed to the road post... looking at the man who was usually so arrogant, now like a worm being pierced by a needle, making his last struggle...

The atmosphere was indescribable. But sometimes it could take effect in a very short time. As soon as the first person stopped, it was like a virus spreading among the crowd. Soon the whole group came to a standstill. They neither moved forward nor backward, like a flock of dumbfounded goats, staring blankly at the gap in front of them as if by some kind of instinct.

Amidst the billowing yellow dust, a magnificent black double-headed eagle banner emerged from the smoke and dust, shaking off the sand to appear before them. The golden double-headed eagle banner shimmered with a pure and clear golden hue in the sunlight, and the ornate golden tassels danced and fluttered with the air currents.

A pebble was stepped on by an iron boot, which caused even smaller fragments to roll down the slope of the collapsed city wall. Silver iron armor, covered in yellow dust, pierced through the obstruction, and swords, spears, and halberds flashed coldly. The silent armored soldiers, like a river of steel, sloping down the high slope, were crushed to dust in the blink of an eye.

………………

The ground beneath his feet was unstable. After all, the city wall had just collapsed, and the irregularly shaped and difficult-to-bind fragments of soil were at risk of collapsing at any moment. The surrounding dust and smoke had shrouded his clothes and armor in a light gray-yellow hue, and even his shimmering white lion cloak looked rather dull.

Tersolius tossed his greatbow to a nearby guard and then stepped down, his footsteps firmly treading on the broken stones. He walked towards the blood-soaked street below, his guards following closely behind. Arka, with his iron-like arms, firmly gripped the banner and kept close behind him.

The city walls had fallen, and Imperial soldiers swarmed in through the breaches, sweeping along the streets and walls, crushing any remaining resistance, and using death and blood to subjugate and subdue the city.

The street directly facing this city wall was a bloody mess. Two hundred-man squads were dismembered and slaughtered here. Everywhere there were splattered flesh and mangled entrails. The limbs that were still twitching maintained their last bit of life, but were destined to become a pile of rotting flesh, to become mud trampled under the iron and blood.

Squads of soldiers and archers passed by them, each soldier raising his weapon high, offering the most sincere and fervent praise to his commander, while continuing their march without stopping to wipe out the remaining enemies in the city. The sound of their armor clashing together was as deafening as thunder, and the clash of swords was more terrifying than death itself.

Tersolius stretched his shoulders, satisfied with his performance. He was in a great mood, excited by the long-awaited opportunity to personally fight the enemy... although no enemy managed to get close to him—which in itself meant that his guards had seriously failed in their duty.

"Where are the Asseles? Has Euryedos returned from his scouts?"

Standing near the cleared camp, surrounded by his guards, Tersolius asked the question without turning his head, and Talina, standing beside him, answered without hesitation:

"According to the intelligence gathered by General Yuriedos, we can confirm that the Assele army has reached a position about 300 gallons from here. We are very close..."

"This morning, our scouts engaged in several small-scale battles with the Asel people. Both sides suffered losses and gains. It is certain that the Asel people are also scouting the surrounding area. It is also certain that their main force is currently entrenched near Pasaldoy, which is only 79 gallons away from the capital of the Kingdom of Hols."

"...Heh, they've laid a trap for me... This opponent is as steady as ever, looks like a good fight is in the works... It's about time, how are the fleet preparations?"

A parchment map unfolded before him, covered with numerous lines drawn in red and yellow, crisscrossing the city plains and mountains, making it easy to understand at a glance.

Tarina flipped through her parchment notebook; the cover of this one was painted red, signifying records related to military operations.

"The fleet has been assembled, with ample supplies and personnel. The river is completely under our control, and we can carry out our plans at any time."

Thesolius wore a subtle smile as his gaze swept across the flat plain, passing city after city, like a child searching for a playground. Only after scanning the area three times did he nod slightly.

"Then let's begin. The guests have already arrived, and the banquet preparations should begin. There's no reason to be negligent."

………………

“You lowly wretch! Do you know who I am? How dare you!... Ugh! Huff huff huff, ah!..."

A sharp sword pierced his chest. No matter how gorgeous the clothes were, they were no more effective than rough linen at this moment. They were easily torn apart like a piece of thin paper. The destroyed organs convulsed and struggled desperately, but they still could not prolong their master's life.

Caledo drew his sword, wiped the bloodstains on the gorgeous silk curtain beside him, ignored the weeping maid, and hurriedly led his soldiers through the gate, up the stairs, and towards the top.

Their steps were hurried, but their breathing was even more rapid—not because they were tired, for such a fierce battle was not enough to exhaust them. Each of them was excited at this moment, and some even had their hands trembling when they gripped their swords.

They were going to take down the count's banner from the top of the city lord's mansion, raise the imperial flag, and announce to the entire city the empire's conquest of this place!

"Die, you damned imperial bastard!"

Caledo instinctively raised his shield, and the next moment he felt the dull thud of a crossbow bolt piercing the wood. The soldiers beside him swarmed forward, and soon the sticky sound of blades entering flesh and screams came from ahead. The spurting blood formed a shield in mid-air, enveloping them and staining their half-body armor crimson.

He didn't look at the attacker who had been hacked to pieces. He stepped over the blurred corpse and walked to the last wooden door. Suddenly, he raised his shield and slammed it against the pile of barrels next to him. With a cry of surprise, he slammed a Holstein soldier against the wall with the force of the impact. Before his opponent could do anything, his short sword had already pierced halfway into the gap under his ribs. After a vicious slash and twist, he pulled it out with bits of flesh.

Shaking off the bits of flesh and grease clinging to his sword, Calido nodded to his soldiers to use the key they found below to open the door. The moment they opened it, the cheers, screams, and carnage outside rushed in, and the howling wind blew away the bloodstains on their bodies.

Before me was a sky stained with gunpowder. The weather was so-so today; there was no bright sunshine, but no snow or wind either. The billowing black smoke seemed to blend into the sky after it rose up, becoming so faint that it was no longer recognizable.

The blue flag fluttering atop the towering flagpole in front of them became an eyesore at that moment, making them unwilling to wait any longer and rushing closer.

With a single stroke, Caledo severed the rope, and a count's banner fluttered down. He then retrieved a folded imperial banner from their bag, and after a few adjustments, the fiery red double-headed eagle banner danced fiercely in the wind, finally rising slowly to its highest point.

At this moment, they were bathed in the cold wind, yet felt their blood boiling.

…………:……

The bloodshed in wars of this era is always more direct and clear. Most of the time, one can see with one's own eyes the limbs that have been severed and the internal organs that have flowed out of the abdomen. The cries and convulsions of the dying are also right before one's eyes.

Truckloads of lime were being hauled into the city. At the same time the battle ended, the cleanup and disinfection of the corpses began. While the residents were still cowering in fear in their rooms, the Imperial soldiers were already cleaning up the mess outside.

It wasn't a particularly brutal battle. The Imperial army's offensive was so overwhelming that after the initial heavy casualties, the survivors quickly learned to drop their weapons, raise their hands, throw away their helmets and armor, and kneel on the ground to avoid being stabbed.

The severed limbs were loaded into carts and transported outside the city for burial. The bloodstains were washed away with water from the irrigation ditches and then quicklime was sprinkled on them for disinfection, which was intended to prevent the spread of disease as much as possible... especially in densely populated cities, where it would be a terrible disaster.

More troops are being mobilized back to their camps, and the imperial flags stretch across lakes and rivers, clearly visible even from miles away...

In the withered winter bushes, a man riding an Arthur looked up into the distance, his armor stained with blood, and the horse beneath him twitched its ears restlessly.

"Let's go back."

Without saying much, the man simply fastened his brass nose shield, turned and rode away. Six similar figures emerged from the surrounding bushes at the same time, urging their horses out and following him southward.

301 A Burning Will

"You despicable, cunning villain!"

"what!"

The onlookers gasped in unison in surprise, while simultaneously leaning back dramatically.

"Do you feel the blood rushing to your throat as you sleep? All that you use is the blood of the victims, the fruit of your betrayal!..."

On the stage, a tall man clad in full armor was pointing at a fat man, shouting angrily, his eyebrows raised and his expression righteous. The man being berated looked shifty-eyed, nervous and short of breath, his slick eyes unconsciously shifting towards the onlookers around him.