Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The sun had lost its most intense heat, and a faint crimson glow appeared on the bright sky, but it wasn't quite sunset yet; it was already late. He then raised his whip and lightly lashed his warhorse's rump, allowing his gaze to slowly move forward.

As his warhorse slowly moved forward, the others exchanged glances and hurriedly followed, surrounded by this cavalry unit, heading towards the enemy's impenetrable formation, leaving their own troops behind. They ignored the sudden chaos that rose behind them and moved swiftly and decisively.

Today, no one is destined to bleed here anymore, which should be considered lucky, but someone still has to pay the price, although everyone has already accepted that price.

372 Surrender (2)

A soldier with a complex expression raised his dark face, glanced at the setting sun, sighed, and then lowered his head to continue forward. He had already taken off his armor, neatly folded it, and held it in his arms, while his spears and swords were already placed among the piles of weapons beside him. At this moment, he had nothing but a cotton coat.

His boots had been completely worn out during his last escape, and now he used straw rope to barely tie the holes to his feet and continued to use them. Dust mixed with foot sweat accumulated between his toes, bringing a foul odor and discomfort. He could almost feel the wind blowing into his boots from the plains.

Ahead of him was a soldier he recognized, who, like him, had taken off his armor and was clutching it to his chest. A patch of his messy hair was missing from the back of his head—it had been scraped across his head by a sharp blade when he was being chased by cavalry, and the helmet he had lost while fleeing had caused him this pain… The saber was no longer particularly sharp after a period of fighting, and much of his hair had even been forcibly torn off his head.

This guy's luck was even widely known in the vicinity of their camp. After all, being caught by those cavalrymen meant that escaping was purely a matter of divine intervention, let alone someone like him who had been stabbed in the head and was actually unharmed.

But whether they are lucky or unlucky, their current situation is the same... They all have to endure that pitiful frustration and desolation, and surrender to the Empire in a defeat with no hope of victory. This will allow them to continue to live and avoid facing the enemy's terrible military might, but it will also come at a price.

His lord had long since died somewhere unknown, but his family was still able to pay the ransom... Of course, it would be even better if their Shah were willing to be generous, so they wouldn't have to linger here any longer and could go home sooner.

Those who are truly unlucky and unable to pay their ransom are said to be kept here by the Empire as laborers for three months to offset the amount they owe, and then they will be released back to their own countries... This sounds acceptable, after all, working for three months is perfectly manageable for these strong men.

But those among them who could afford the ransom were still busy preparing to pay... After all, anyone can say nice things, and who knows what fate awaited them if they really fell into the hands of the Empire? Perhaps they would be enslaved and driven to death...

The group moved forward slowly, and each step he took felt particularly heavy. He also felt pain in his stomach from time to time... This reminded him again of the slightly grayish meat strip he had eaten the night before. Who knows what was stuck to it?

Finally, after a long walk, it was his turn.

"By order of the Emperor and Commander, we will accept your surrender and disarm you, and you will be free from any fear for your life."

Before them stood a door made of dozens of spears bound together, their gleaming tips reflecting a blood-red light in the setting sun, like ominous thorns twisted and turned. All they had to do was walk under the door and place the armor in their hands on a small hill of armor plates piled up beside them.

They didn't know why the Imperials did this, and could only attribute it to their unique customs and habits... Fortunately, it wasn't a big deal, and they even made it in time for dinner.

But for some reason, after the other side pulled this stunt, they felt strangely much more at ease as they walked past. Their initial fear of being easily slaughtered by the Imperials if they laid down their weapons almost vanished... This peculiar sense of ritual played an exceptionally prominent role at this moment.

After all, such a thing implies that the other party has made some kind of commitment, which is much better than the fear brought about by the unknown without any words. At least it gives them a reason to convince themselves.

After all, many times, some things just need a reason.

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

Dinner wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either—a large pot of boiled wheat porridge with a little salt and oil. The portion wasn't enough to fill everyone up, but it wasn't enough to keep them constantly hungry either. It also wasn't enough to give them enough energy to do anything significant.

In general, feeding prisoners just the right amount of food—enough to keep them from starving but also to keep them from losing their spirits—effectively reduces management costs.

But this was enough to reassure most people, who quietly ate and slept in the camp where they had looted all the weapons, waiting for the next arrangements.

In the following days, more and more people who had fled returned. They also learned of the outcome and were naturally happy to no longer have to fight the Imperial army. Moreover, they simply couldn't stand the days of surviving and robbing in the nearby wilderness... You see, those damned Imperial cavalry patrolled the nearby roads every day, specifically chasing after them.

Since there's no need to fight anymore, there's naturally no need for them to flee. Although it's a bit embarrassing to come back like this, as long as they don't care too much, it'll pass. After all, they're just a bunch of defeated soldiers; how many of them really care about this?

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

"This is really interesting. Even those Westerners are starting to get restless... Do they really think we're so caught up in the chaos that they can take advantage of us?"

The letter, delivered by express courier, was now in Thesolius's hands, while reality had been put to rest. Only the slightly crumpled parchment faithfully fulfilled its duty under the lamplight.

Nathamus's account above is very simple, but he doesn't omit anything from the beginning or the end of the story, even mentioning the messenger he met on his hunting trip, and directly asking for his opinion.

Although it wasn't mentioned in the letter, based on his understanding of his brother, he guessed that his copy for the emperor was already on its way, but he was closer and thus received it first.

This is certainly no small matter; on a grander scale, it even concerns the safety of the entire empire. But upon closer examination, it seems absurd... After all, the Western nations have indeed fought many wars with the empire, but for them to easily breach the empire's many fortresses and threaten important regions is nothing short of wishful thinking.

Even assuming they actually succeeded, the time it would take would be enough for him to lead his army back, at which point he could easily deal with them like slaughtering pigs and sheep. From any perspective, it's a ridiculous plan fueled by wishful thinking.

If something is amiss, there must be something fishy going on. Western kings and nobles are not fools after all. They would not invest their strength and resources in a war that is destined to fail. Instead, they are all the type to act without expecting anything in return. The fact that they can give their full support means that there are enough benefits to make them take the risk.

And it was precisely at this moment that some of the mercenaries they had hired discovered the trickery, and when they realized they would be used as cannon fodder, they decisively defected, and thus made contact with the Empire... To be honest, this was quite a coincidence, a coincidence that was unbelievable.

But this coincidence is worth testing, because if successful, it could easily break through the defenses of the Kingdom of Salanod and completely extinguish the delusions of the Western nations.

As he pondered this, Thesolius slowly rubbed the edges of the parchment with his fingers until the supple paper twisted and fuzzed under his force, yet he remained doubtful.

He keenly realized that there was some force driving and connecting things behind the scenes; otherwise, how could those Western countries that were constantly at odds suddenly unite like this? You have to understand that the contradictions between them have never been small, so what could possibly bridge such contradictions?

They're not after the petty gains they're fighting over now; they're probably after something much bigger... I have some guesses about this, but I can't confirm them yet, and I need more intelligence to verify them.

"How is the infiltration of the West by our lackeys and traitors going?"

"There have been some results, but so far they are limited to border cities... Moreover, the situation there is complicated, and it is very difficult for spies to infiltrate. It will probably take some more time."

Tersolius nodded slowly, and made his decision amidst the rustling of Talina's pages beside him:

"Have them gather intelligence on border cities, mainly on interactions between nobles and troop movements. This can temporarily halt the infiltration of inland cities. At the same time, they should transmit the collected intelligence back to the capital so that His Majesty can make preparations in advance."

"As for us... things here are not yet resolved, but we still need to speed things up. I have a bad feeling about this..."

Talina also frowned:

"It is indeed a turbulent time, and it happens to be the time when we decided to back down... It's hard not to be suspicious, but now is the critical moment. We can't relax our guard on the newly acquired territory, otherwise it will inevitably fall into chaos again, and that will be the real trouble."

As she spoke, she couldn't help but sigh, and rubbed her eyes wearily... With the war over, a host of things came one after another, leaving her with almost no time to rest, constantly challenging her and her staff. Meanwhile, the framework of the Southern government was not yet in place, so it couldn't be of much use for the time being...

It seems that the West and the North are about to become unstable again. It's unclear whether they have the time and resources to properly manage the South. If they fail to seize this best opportunity, it will become much more difficult in the future.

"I must have eaten too much."

Tersolius rubbed his eyes helplessly and finally made a conclusion, while Talina behind him slightly pursed her lips and then nodded repeatedly.

Under the bright lights, the two sighed at the same time, and even their shadows stood side by side, inexplicably complementing each other.

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

Clearing mountains and building roads is the specialty of the Imperial Legion, especially those responsible for clearing roads for the army. They are used to clearing bushes, building bridges and leveling roads, and can always finish repairing the roads before the army arrives.

Often they face extremely harsh conditions, such as hard ground covered with gravel and weeds with huge rocks buried underneath, or muddy ground that is difficult to walk on due to rainwater accumulation, or even roads that have been directly destroyed and cut off by heavy rain or flash floods... Any of these are tough challenges that require them to exhaust their strength and energy and find ways to overcome them.

Compared to these tough nuts to crack, the sandstone road that could be easily dug up and repaired was a piece of cake, even a little too easy. Some of them even had the leisure to bury a few landmark stones.

As was their custom, when they opened up a new road, they would always erect a landmark stone at intervals according to the imperial calculation method to mark it. This also meant that the imperial rule had spread along these roads to this place, and travelers and caravans would know that the area was under the protection and rule of the empire when they saw these stones.

They weren't even satisfied with just widening the road to a path for soldiers to march on; they tried to transform it into a main road for carriages and horses... but due to time constraints, they ultimately gave up.

The weather was getting warmer and warmer, even reaching a point of sweltering heat. This heat wasn't particularly torturous, but it was still very noticeable, always making people sweat profusely without realizing it, covered in dust and dirt. But everyone was working hard, trying to get their share of the credit in the upcoming battle.

And so, guided by the messenger, they widened the road and moved forward, cutting down trees to pave the way where the path was most difficult, until they met the required standards.

"So you're saying you're bundling logs together and laying them on the mud to walk on?... That's a clever idea, but I doubt it'll last long."

Amidst the bustling construction site, Blatche, captured by a centurion, had no choice but to satisfy the man's curiosity, while also feeling secretly anxious—he had been away from the other side for quite some time and wondered how his brother and the others were doing...

"It doesn't need to be long-term. It's enough to be useful a few times at critical moments. If we really need a long-term solution, we can plan for it later. There's always a way to deal with it. What we need to do now is save time."

Before he could answer, another centurion appeared beside him and took over the conversation. The man was holding a complex-looking instrument and was frequently measuring the road from dozens of meters away, comparing the height of the nearby mountains. It was unclear what he was calculating.

"What we need to do is dig this road as quickly as possible. After that, we just need to follow orders. We'll definitely get what we're entitled to..."

373 Surrender (3)

If a person is troubled by their dreams, constantly worrying about what they see and hear in their dreams, even to the point of waking others up in the middle of the night, they will definitely get scolded and may even be seen as a ridiculous person who is good at worrying unnecessarily.

However, if the person having this dream is the emperor, then the situation is completely different. As the supreme ruler at the pinnacle of power in the entire country, her every move will not have a simple meaning. In other words, every exercise of the emperor's power is destined to have a significant impact, far beyond just one or two people.

So if His Majesty really couldn't even wait one night and summoned her over in the middle of the night, it must be because something of utmost importance required her assistance. That's why she was already prepared when she got out of bed.

Even so, while listening to His Majesty recount his dream, her expression changed repeatedly due to surprise, and she eventually fell into deep thought, remaining silent for a long time.

The emperor showed no sign of urging him, simply sitting quietly on his golden throne, waiting. The eyes of the double-headed eagle carved from gold above his head, inlaid with rubies, reflected a blood-like, somber light in the candlelight, inexplicably possessing a divine aura that oppressed the entire hall, making any person offering advice extremely cautious.

After the candle had burned down to the length of a finger joint, Perilla suddenly raised her head and said solemnly:

“Your Majesty, I’m afraid I need some time to consult ancient texts… What you saw in your dream was probably not so simple. I need to confirm some of my guesses and judgments.”

"It's alright, I was just talking to someone. You can investigate slowly and carefully. I'm sure I won't have those kinds of dreams anymore. Let me know when you have any results... After all this trouble in the middle of the night, at least we have some results. I'll bring some soup over later, have some before you go back."

The emperor rubbed her temples, barely concealing her exhaustion. Her hair was disheveled, simply held back with a gold hairpin, and her robes were even somewhat wrinkled, presenting a less dignified image to the emperor.

Upon closer examination, the emperor before us was in the prime of her youth, and had already shouldered the responsibility of the entire nation when she was still a young girl. She had faced numerous hardships and obstacles along the way, and if it weren't for the full support of her two brothers, things would probably have been even more difficult.

From the moment she first arrived in this city, surrounded by unfamiliarity and hostility, she had fought her way up to where she was today. There were probably only a handful of people she could truly confide in this emperor... And that was why he thought of her first in this situation. Perilaya was quite moved.

"May I be so bold as to ask what kind of soup it is?"

"...Hehe—didn't you already find out? I heard it's soup made by the chef using Cui Tan, which was originally intended to be served to me tomorrow. I'll have them deliver it now."

Cui Tan is a small fish that hops around in the muddy beaches. Its skin and flesh are translucent, and you can even see the bones through the skin. The meat is so tender that it's like water. So this fish can't be grilled or fried; it can only be used to make soup... but it tastes absolutely delicious. Some scholars even believe that this soup can replenish the brain and relax the mind.

Of course, no rigorous tests have been conducted on this, and it's mostly just the personal feelings of the people involved. However, it does taste good, and many people enjoy drinking it.

The two chatted for a while longer, then a courtier brought over soup, which was taken by a female official from the emperor's side and handed to the two of them.

The soup wasn't much; it was even served in a cup, so there was no need for a table—you could just hold it and drink it directly. You couldn't see any whole fish pieces in it; there was only chopped thyme floating on top of the milky white soup, wafting out waves of a unique aroma.

Neither of them spoke, focusing only on drinking their soup. After all, the fact that the soup had been delivered here meant that it had already undergone rigorous surveillance by guards and henchmen, who practically watched the chef make the fish soup. Naturally, there wouldn't be any problems. The procurement process was done through a separate route to ensure absolute safety.

At this moment, the first month of the lunar calendar was high in the sky outside the palace, casting a layer of silvery white over the brilliant golden tiles.

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

The golden cup was being squeezed and making a creaking sound, but because it was thickly made, it showed no sign of deforming. However, the gemstones inlaid with fine gold wire and sharp edges were not so sturdy and were twisting and shifting under the constant pressure of the fingers.

The owner of this hand was in a state of extreme anger and dejection, and unconsciously vented his anger on the cup in his hand, causing some of the pale green liquid inside to spill out.

Shah Fsala of the land of yellow sands was now ashen-faced, his thick eyebrows trembling like a lion's whiskers. His servants around him dared not even breathe, standing stiff as statues, for fear of angering their Shah at this moment.

Fossala certainly had reason to be angry. In fact, even his most trusted concubine couldn't diminish his anger in the slightest at this moment... After all, the general on whom he had placed high hopes led countless lords and armies to the north, only to be completely annihilated within two short months. He hadn't even had time to achieve anything; he hadn't captured a single city or gained a single inch of land before he had already given it all away...

Even now, they still don't know exactly how many people were lost in that battle, how many survivors escaped, or how many lords and generals died... They know nothing about any of this and can only waste their time in the city before them.

The Imperial army of 20,000 men completely blocked this place, erected strongholds, dug deep trenches, and turned it into a meat grinder. Their troops poured in one after another, but they didn't even make a ripple... Now, even with the Shah's urging, most of the lords were just going through the motions.

This situation became even more pronounced after learning of the crushing defeat ahead... If it weren't for the Shah keeping order here, some might have already been preparing to retreat... After all, no one knows if the Imperial Legion, which has already defeated their main force, might suddenly reappear one day and deliver a devastating blow.

Finally, after launching another offensive today, only to suffer a crushing defeat against the Empire's cities and fortified strongholds, the Shah could no longer contain his rage. He remained silent for a long time, making the generals and nobles in the tent feel like they were sitting on pins and needles. They were all as still as servants beside them, wishing they had never come at all.

But there's no way I can't not come... If I dared not to come, I'd be risking my life.

At this moment, in an atmosphere as oppressive and suffocating as a furnace, only one person dared to speak and interrupt the Shah's anger.

Ahmed looked even older. The once vigorous old man now appeared quite weathered. He had been sitting silently in a high-backed leather chair next to the throne until now, seeing that everything around him was frozen in place, he sighed and slowly stood up.

The old man's simple act of standing up immediately caught the Shah's attention, causing him to hurriedly put down his wine glass and attempt to personally help the somewhat frail old man.

But he only stood up slightly before a servant took his place, so he sat back down without reaching for the wine glass beside him. Instead, he looked intently at the other person's face.

"My wise elder, is there anything you wish to say to me? I desperately need your wisdom and advice!"

A bitter smile appeared on the old man's face, his lips slightly pursed, but he managed to hold back his sighs. He merely shifted his feet slightly, using his long cane for support.

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I won't be able to shoulder great responsibilities in the future. How many more years can an old man like me live? There are many things I simply can't bear anymore. But now, I still have to say a few words that you won't like to hear."

Shah's face was tense, but he still nodded heavily.

"...We have failed, and failed quite thoroughly. This is an undeniable fact. At this point, what we should do is not act rashly, but try to prevent us from losing anything more."

“I know Your Majesty finds it hard to accept such a defeat. After all, anyone with lofty ambitions would find it difficult to swallow such a blow. But we should no longer shed blood and pay a price we shouldn’t have to pay. Even if we did manage to conquer this city, what difference would it make? Would it really change the situation?”

"The only result will be more bloodshed. The Imperial army will soon continue its southward advance. We have already suffered too many losses, and it is impossible for us to gather an army capable of fighting them in a short period of time..."

Shah's expression grew increasingly somber, but he made no attempt to interrupt the old man. Everyone else in the tent was as quiet as the dead, except for the two of them, who exuded a hint of life.

The old man gave him many reasons, but he also knew there were many reasons the old man never mentioned—such a crushing defeat had significantly damaged his authority as Shah, and the opposition within the country would certainly seize the opportunity to shake his rule… For him, this was the most important thing to deal with.

Those ambitious nobles were never loyal dogs to him; on the contrary, they were a pack of hungry wolves. When he had a whip in his hand and could feed them meat, he could make these hungry wolves obey his commands. But once the whip became worn and broken, or there wasn't enough meat to feed them...

He no longer had the luxury of continuing to act recklessly. No matter how unwilling or resentful he felt, he was powerless to change anything. Once the opportunity was lost, it would never come again.

They did try, and they put in a lot of effort, but they failed...that's all.

Seemingly realizing that his student had taken his words to heart, the old man smiled slightly and fell silent, slowly sitting down to wait quietly. After a long silence, Shah suddenly spoke:

"And what about the Empire? Will they just stop? Will they give up their covetousness of our eastern plains?... Shouldn't a lion that can never be satisfied be made to pay the price with spears before we can live in peace?"

“They’ve already eaten,” Ahmed said calmly, clearly having anticipated this.

"The entire Kingdom of Hols increased their land by a third, and when combined with the Kurist Grassland they had previously conquered, these lands not only fed them, but they were overflowing with food."

“Even the most greedy and bloodthirsty wolf has a limited stomach. It can’t eat more before it’s fully digested… Similarly, no matter how insatiable the desires of the Empire’s people are, no matter how ambitious they are, they have to turn around and digest the land they have already acquired. Otherwise, they will only lose sight of one thing and let chaos engulf their country.”

“The Imperials may ask for an exorbitant amount, but now is the time to talk, and they will certainly be willing to talk… If you are still willing to place your trust in this old man, then I am willing to make the trip and do this for you and Assele.”

"Of course, we will no longer need to guard against the Hols people, and the northern oasis of the kingdom will never be peaceful again. But this is the bitter fruit of our failure. Self-pity will not help. We should actively find ways to solve this problem... We still have time for at least three or four years."

"Your Majesty, as the master of the country, you should set an example. In that case, I can rest assured."