Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

He only has one night to kill them all, and the next day his enemies will be on high alert... He only has one night to kill them all, so he doesn't care if one or two horses die while doing so, especially since the horses aren't even his own.

He has no time to waste...

----------

He had already hidden his horses in the pre-planned locations, and when the horses he was riding were exhausted, he would not hesitate to switch to another one, ensuring that he always maintained the fastest speed, and silently sneaking into one tribe after another in the dark of night, slitting the throats of one person after another.

He wasn't as strong as the adults, but his movements were lighter than anyone else's. He wouldn't even disturb the agile deer, so he could carefully slip into the tent, do his work, and then carefully come out. He became more and more skilled in this process, and eventually he could even hide himself in the snow to avoid the patrolmen.

The shortest and most efficient route had already been planned and rehearsed in his mind hundreds of times, so when he carried it out, he did not hesitate or think at all, but simply made his movements faster and more concise!

In a direct confrontation, he would be no match for these adult men, but the poisoned weapons and the sleeping enemies easily narrowed the gap. All he had to do was cut a man's neck like a sheep's, which was essentially no different.

At first, his heart was pounding with nervousness, but the more he did it, the more skillfully he became. His heartbeat became more frequent, and his breathing became more natural. In the end, he even had time to observe more carefully before taking action. This really helped him a lot, allowing him to evade the patrolling men in the tribe twice in a row, and he even began to summarize some experiences.

He had already worn out one horse, so he switched to another without hesitation. After finishing in one place, he would change his clothes to prevent the thick bloodstains from attracting attention and ruining his mission.

Finally... after running around for who knows how long, exhausted and drenched in sweat, his dagger becoming dull from repeatedly hitting his bone, he arrived outside the tent of the very person who had caused it all, the enemy who had destroyed everything because of jealousy and greed—Turia.

At this point, he was no longer in a hurry. He squatted down in the woods at a distance to rest, drank a few mouthfuls of milk wine, ate some dried milk to restore some energy to his tired body, and finally stood up and moved around a bit before taking a large leather water bag off his waist.

The liquid inside was viscous and flammable, enough to ignite an entire tent in an instant. He had found it by chance in a valley and stored it to use as kindling—after all, in this kind of weather, failing to start a fire could be fatal.

With a frenzied calmness, he proceeded with the next action, carefully pouring the viscous black liquid onto every surface until he felt it was appropriate. Then, he took out a flint and steel from his pocket, lightly scraped it, and ignited a small tinder. Immediately, this tiny flame, upon contact with the black liquid, exploded and rapidly spread, igniting every corner of the enormous tent. Sparks drifted outwards and landed on the hunting dogs killed by poisoned arrows, while he stood ten paces away, watching silently.

The screams were louder than the sounds of the flames, and to him they were like a sweet wine, making him intoxicated for a moment. He watched as the struggling human figure in the flames gradually curled up and withered, and the pungent smell of burnt meat rushed into his nostrils.

He didn't care how many people were inside, or whether there were elderly people or children. He simply savored the comfort this moment brought him, like appreciating fine wine, feeling his sadness and anger gradually subside. Before the people in the other tents came out, he began to slowly retreat, quietly disappearing into the bushes, watching the flames with rapt attention.

The tents in the tribe weren't placed close together, so no other houses were affected. The men crawled out of their tents, but were helpless. A few tried to put out the fire with the snow on the ground, but it was all in vain. They could only watch as the large tent gradually turned to ashes. The screams from inside finally disappeared.

Cheldoy didn't care anymore. He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and he felt completely relaxed. He trotted away along the path and left the place where he had always lived, with all his belongings rattling and swaying in the pack behind the saddle.

Now, it's time to go find that man...

321 Losers and Kings

The army is an extension of his hands, his blade, his spear...

Beneath the imposing and majestic banner, Tersolius stood on his horse, gazing at the distant city struggling against the fierce onslaught of the imperial legions, and reached out to pinch a withered leaf blown by the wind.

The terrifying imperial legions surged like a torrent of steel, countless gleaming steel beams flowing like scales on a river. Each powerful war machine launched heavy boulders hundreds of meters away, crushing and tearing everything in its path.

The sounds and smells of war filled his nostrils. Thick smoke billowed from burning buildings throughout the city, forcing the defenders to run for their lives. Scraps of stone flying from the shattered city walls always brought with them screams of agony. Arrows shot back and forth from the city walls and below, their sharp, clear whistling sounds more dense than raindrops.

The city walls were facing their most severe challenge yet, with eight siege towers continuously sending elite armored soldiers up. Like a meat grinder made of steel, they efficiently shredded the bodies and morale of the resisters, the screams, howls, and desperate cries never ceasing.

Whenever the previous attacking force was exhausted, a new force would immediately take their place, ensuring that the assault was always at its sharpest, continuously tearing the city apart and causing it to bleed profusely.

The situation seemed to be going very well; it wouldn't be long before the Imperial Legion would once again present their commander with a victory, and the stubborn enemy would be wiped out... But Tersolius was still surprised.

This surprise wasn't because he had suffered some kind of crushing blow... but something unexpected had indeed happened.

The city's walls were far from being a fortress, and its various defensive facilities were not top-notch—in fact, they were inadequate against the Empire's war machine and were completely destroyed within a day of the start of the war.

But the city held out for much longer than he had imagined, and the resilience of the defenders truly surprised him... You see, the Imperial heavy armor soldiers were best at this kind of meat grinder, and they were best at crushing the enemy with their superior armor, fearless courage, and strong discipline.

Not everyone has the courage to throw themselves into such a meat grinder. Despite such an offensive and such heavy casualties, the city's defenders still had the will to persevere, stepping over the corpses of their comrades to charge into the steel army, and instantly becoming mutilated amidst swords, spears, and axes.

Even though the attacking troops had already been rotated three times, and the sun had already set in the west, there were still people resisting on the city walls, and the sporadic battle cries never stopped.

But this situation was not permanent—on the tower where the flag was hanging, the defender, his chest pierced by a sharp blade, let out a final scream and fell to the ground. The blood-soaked Imperial Legion soldiers finally planted their flags on the highest point in the city, announcing yet another victory for the Imperial Legion.

A fierce southerly wind blew, carrying the pungent smell of blood to his face. Without flinching, he tossed aside the withered leaves in his hand and charged forward, leading the dense ranks of armored soldiers around him. He suddenly felt a surge of curiosity: why did the city's garrison possess such willpower? What kind of person was their commander?

So he wanted to go and see for himself.

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

Those who die in war are always mutilated, and their deaths are clearly visible from the state of their corpses—bloody and stark. Undisguised, they are laid out before your eyes, limbs intertwined, blood seeping into the bricks of the city walls, mingling with the smoke of burning gunpowder, creating a powerfully impactful and brutal atmosphere of war.

The defenders' corpses littered the city walls, their tattered armor and broken weapons scattered like withered branches growing from a pond. Everything was covered in a thick, glaring crimson, and the bloodstains painted on the walls by splashes and friction carried a shocking tension.

The imperial legions from Chengdu were marching into the city in formation. Their banners stretched like a red sea, and every cheer gathered into a terrifying thunderstorm, shaking every brick and tile in the city. Just one glance at their terrifying military formation was enough to make people lose the will and courage to resist.

The defenders who resisted until the very end were reduced to just over 500 men. After being promised their lives, they finally laid down their weapons, removed their helmets and armor, and gathered in an open area in front of the city gate, where they were guarded by fully armed imperial soldiers.

The city had struggled to its final stage; the crenellations on the city walls were almost completely destroyed, and catapults had blasted up all the buildings near the walls, plowing up piles of rubble and ruins from the streets.

The prisoners showed no fear or anxiety. Each of them stared at the torrent of iron rushing into the city with an expression that could only be described as absolute and stubborn. Their determination to resist had not been lost, and they displayed admirable courage.

In this respect, they even earned the respect of the Empire's proud and fierce generals. Unlike ordinary prisoners of war, they were not ordered to squat on the ground with their hands behind their heads, and still enjoyed the freedom to look at the Imperial army.

Immediately afterwards, a large contingent of knights in magnificent heavy armor poured into the city gates, and a majestic black banner appeared in their sight, heading straight for them without hesitation, immediately causing a commotion among the captured soldiers.

Although they knew that the scene before them was more likely the arrival of some important figure, no one could help but feel nervous in the face of these imposing and awe-inspiring armored cavalry. Their hearts pounded with the sound of hooves... After all, they were unarmed, and these knights could easily crush them into mincemeat with a single charge.

As the proverb of Assele says, "Beware if a man with a sword comes within five steps of you, even if he is your relative."

The knights adjusted their warhorses with impeccable discipline, forming a formation with outstretched wings in the blink of an eye, their sharp lances arranged like seedlings in their hands.

Immediately afterward, a general emerged from among them, riding a magnificent warhorse. His golden winged helmet gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight, and the red plume of his helmet burned as brightly as the evening glow. On his tall warhorse, he stood out like an iron tower, striking and majestic, instantly slowing everyone's breathing.

Thesolius's gaze swept over the remnants of the army. His silence was chilling and oppressive, like a thunderstorm brewing in the clouds. The cavalrymen slowly lowered their lances, awaiting their commander's judgment.

Imperial soldiers would admire the bravery of these men, but if given orders, they would not hesitate to slaughter them all.

After a long while, accompanied by a deep and powerful voice, the prisoners of war heard what the other side said:

"Where is your commander? Come out and see me."

This was an order that could not be refused, carrying a terrifying sense of oppression that was taken for granted... but the prisoners of war remained silent. This blatant defiance immediately enraged the surrounding Imperial soldiers, and the sound of them gripping their weapons rang out one after another, but no one took any action on their own.

"...I'll ask you one more time, who is your commander? Come out and see me."

Tersolius spoke again, and this time there was finally movement among the prisoners. A strong, bearded man from Asel pushed aside the others and stepped forward, firmly refusing the hands that tried to grab his sleeves:

"Your Excellency Imperial General, I am their commander and the one who organized this defense."

Tersolius looked the man up and down—his face was dark and rough, his beard was messy and unkempt, and even his hair was just hastily tied back with a leather rope. There were obvious calluses on his fingers, his arms were thick, his shoulders were broad, and his legs were powerful... It was the appearance of a warrior, and a warrior who had been through many hardships.

He nodded slightly, essentially believing what the other person said.

“You don’t look like an incompetent person, so what position do you hold in the army? I think with your abilities, you’re more than qualified to be a general.”

“I am not a general, but just an ordinary kassan (centurion).

Thesolius paused for a moment, then lowered his head to look at the other person:

"You could command 2000 soldiers in the city to fight for you, holding off my legion for two whole days... and now you're telling me you're just an ordinary centurion? Your rank isn't even high enough to command these troops, yet they're willing to die at your command."

The soldiers behind him remained silent, but their eyes showed no fear as they tightly surrounded the man, like wolves surrounding their alpha wolf… This courage impressed Tersolius and further convinced him of some of his judgments.

He pointed a finger at the man, and several cavalrymen immediately stepped forward and seized him. The prisoners of war also began to stir, their angry shouts rising into the air, but they were suppressed by the sharp spears and shields.

Seeing that they still had no intention of giving up, and several of them were even prepared to fight to the death, the man, who was already bound, desperately turned his head and shouted loudly:

"What are you doing? Do you think I'm dead?! All of you, behave yourselves!"

The effect was outstanding—a conflict that was about to turn into a bloodbath was quelled in an instant. The prisoners of war, who were just indignant, forcibly suppressed their emotions and even became a little cautious.

“I am now even more certain that your identity is extraordinary—just based on their loyalty to you, you don’t need to rush to defend yourself, I will find out for myself.”

Thesolius waved his hand slightly, and the man was silently led away by the soldiers. Then he turned back to look at the prisoners of war who had caused the disturbance:

"Tell the officials to disperse them and not allow them to gather together, or they will be killed on sight... I suspect I'll have some interesting news coming my way soon."

Before the burning pillars, Thesolius thoughtfully tapped his helmet, his thoughts drifting away with the smoke.

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

"You've been hiding your true strength for a long time..."

Colin raised an eyebrow, his tone full of teasing, and the other mountain people gathered around noisily. At this moment, they completely abandoned their usual order, appearing both enthusiastic and undisciplined.

If this posture were caught in the military camp under normal circumstances, it would certainly have resulted in a reprimand. But at this moment, even Colin couldn't care less about the others. Almost everyone surrounded the alleyway, scrutinizing the couple inside with their passionate yet sharp gazes.

They all knew this girl—she was the maid they encountered when they were chasing the city lord, and she had even pointed out the general direction to them.

But this man was the real reason they were so excited... it was none other than Kochkin, dressed to the nines!

Aside from being a bit thin, this guy was actually quite decent-looking. However, he didn't usually take care of himself, and his hair and beard were always a mess. But at this moment, after combing his hair and shaving his beard, he actually looked quite respectable. He even wore a brand-new cotton robe with a belt, a thick leather belt with copper studs around his waist, and boots with lace trim on the edges.

At this very moment, a young man and woman gathered together, both looking meticulously dressed. The implications of this were obvious, which explained the surprise and excitement of their comrades who had spent so much time together – none of them knew that this young man was secretly doing this!

"Well, I knew it! So that's why you always run off during your days off and never drink with everyone. So that's what you were planning. Confess! When did you hook up with her?"

Colin's eyes crinkled with laughter, and he and Warif grabbed Kochkin and began interrogating him, while the maid stood shyly and helplessly to the side, unsure of what to say.

"It's nothing, really... Ouch! Be gentle, be gentle, I'll tell you, I'll tell you!"

Kochkin, who had initially intended to bluff his way out, immediately became obedient after feeling the pain in his ribs. Of course, he didn't forget to glare fiercely at Wolf, who had attacked him, before finally displaying a rare stiff and hesitant posture:

"That day we went to capture that city lord, right? I lagged behind and talked to her a bit more... Later, when I was patrolling around here, I ran into her again, so..."

"Oh!!!!"

Everyone gasped in unison, their teasing gazes making even the thick-skinned Kochkin blush. He stammered an explanation, but was immediately overwhelmed by a torrent of mockery…

322 Saratag (1)

"Alright, we still don't know what this girl's name is, so stop pretending to be dead."

Wolf's expression was very subtle. Looking at Kochkin, who was grinning foolishly, he felt a little resentful that his good friend had found a girlfriend, but he was mostly happy for his friend. He always greeted girls with enthusiasm so as not to scare them away from their noisy group of soldiers.

"Her name is Salina... Say hello to everyone, Salina, these are my comrades."

Kochkin, being Kochkin, was used to big occasions. His initial embarrassment was fading away quickly, and in just a few breaths, he regained his composure. He calmly grabbed the shoulders of the timid girl and pulled her in front of him.

The mountain people, their faces bulging, pressed forward with all their might, like a herd of foolish deer drawn to something. The sharp gazes of these elite archers were like blades piercing one's skin. There was no malice in them, but they still created a heavy pressure, rendering the already flushed girl speechless. She stammered out a couple of words, barely audible even to their ears, barely audible, though the sound was fainter than the buzzing of a mosquito's wings.

They exchanged puzzled glances, trying to confirm their own judgment from the others' eyes, and were about to continue questioning each other with their eyes when Colin suddenly spoke:

"Alright, stop crowding here. You're interrogating people like criminals. Go do what you're supposed to do and be back before dinner. If you think you have too much time, then keep making a scene here!"

The mountain people were immediately startled. There was no need for further emphasis or repetition; they scattered in an instant, disappearing in groups into the corners of the city, leaving them behind in the blink of an eye.

"I know you've got something planned for today, so I won't take up any more of your time. Just one last reminder—marrying and having children during wartime is a major taboo. Don't you dare sneak around and cause any trouble! Otherwise, it won't be a matter of just a whipping..."

Kochkin's face stiffened, a hint of confusion lingering within it, causing Colin to raise an eyebrow:

"You haven't forgotten, have you?! During wartime, marrying a woman and having children without permission is a capital offense punishable by death! You've forgotten all that?"

Kochkin broke out in a cold sweat, his face turned pale, and his fingers trembled, causing the girl next to him to hold his hand with some concern.

Colin's expression immediately turned serious, almost razor-sharp and fierce. He glared at the unreliable kid, then looked back at him with a grave expression before lowering his voice to ask:

"You two haven't slept together yet, have you?..."

This statement was far too blunt. It made Salina blush deeply, while Kochkin shook his head repeatedly.

"Of course not! It hasn't gotten to that point yet!!"

Colin nodded, seemingly relieved for the moment, but then continued speaking:

"Did you announce your marriage to anyone? Anyone, even strangers on the street?"

"No, I've only met with Salina's family once so far, and we haven't even talked about marriage."

"Then it's fine... As long as you don't have an illegitimate child, or there's clear evidence that you're getting married, it won't come to that... But you'd better keep your pants closed for me now! The war isn't over yet. If you cause any trouble, I'll personally chop off your head. Don't worry, I'll do it cleanly and neatly, so you suffer less."

Kochkin, as usual, tried to ease the tense atmosphere with a smile, until he realized—his boss didn't seem to be joking with him...

This thought sent chills down his spine, and he didn't want Colin to nod in satisfaction:

“That’s it. You need to be aware of this. You’re in the disciplined Imperial Army, and you can’t break military law… It seems you’ve forgotten quite a bit. Remember to memorize it when you get back. I’ll have Wolf test you. If you still can’t remember…”

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

We should go find something to eat.

The mountain girl with short blond hair thought lazily to herself. Her chainmail shimmered with tiny golden light in the sunlight, the short sword hanging at her waist slapped against her round and powerful thighs, and her leather boots were already covered with dust.

She wasn't tall, even below the average height of women in the Empire, but she wasn't ridiculously short either... Of course, all of this was on the premise that there wasn't a tall woman beside her whose height could surpass that of many men. This always left her with a sense of regret and resentment—especially every time that guy stood in front of her like a big tree, a strange bitterness and annoyance would well up in her heart, mixed with some unspeakable resentment.

The Empire's people all prefer tall, fair-skinned, and healthyly voluptuous women—that's practically a perfect description of Karila! Every word fits... Her skin is as white as winter snow, she's tall and healthy, and...

She lowered her head in frustration, her gaze falling unobstructed on her toes. Then, she quickly gritted her teeth, unabashedly speculating with the utmost malice... This guy's chest must be muscles! Hard, rock-hard muscles!

The Empire's people all like that, whether it's Dr. Tarina or that guy...

She sighed in frustration again, lowered her head, and her anxious and uncertain demeanor even began to attract the attention of passersby.

Who would like a short, tomboyish guy?