Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

To be honest, he originally thought he would encounter more trouble, after all, he had to manage more than 500 people... But when he actually started doing it, he was surprised to find that he seemed to be doing quite well, and even seemed to be handling it with some ease...

But before he could get back to his tent, a messenger dressed in red stopped him on the road and handed him a letter.

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

"Hmm, what do you mean by this? A letter for me?"

The emperor chuckled, a slight smile playing on his lips. He flipped through the parchment envelope in his hand, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Perilla opposite him.

"You're sitting right in front of me, and you want to give me a letter to tell me the results? My chief scholar, can you give me a reason?"

Perilaya, however, showed no sign of laughter. Her expression remained serious, even when facing the emperor. She pointed to the envelope with her finger:

"Your Majesty, please take a look at this first..."

The emperor's eyes narrowed slightly, and he too became serious. He gently peeled off the sealing wax seal on the envelope, and pulled out a very old parchment. The edges even had chips from insect damage due to improper maintenance, and the color was not a solemn dark yellow, but rather a grayish-white like ashes.

"This is the key information I found..."

386. Perilla's Investigation (2)

This request is truly bizarre. After completing the emperor's task, the emperor's chief scholar is asked to read an ancient and obscure book instead of simply reporting her conclusions... It seems rather pretentious.

If it were a cunning and calculating emperor, he might have already developed doubts, but Clautina didn't care. She naturally followed the other party's instructions, opened the parchment, and began to carefully read the obscure and vague words on it.

Unsurprisingly, the text on this tattered parchment, its edges already gnawed by insects, is incredibly convoluted and archaic, constructed from a multitude of incomprehensible metaphors and abstract phrases, filled with countless obscure modifiers. It's as if the creator deliberately used it to showcase their extensive vocabulary and rhetorical skill, not to convey information, but simply to flaunt it…

Those with less knowledge might even be completely bewildered by the words on this paper, but the emperor's teacher was Elder Scripps, a famous politician and writer of the empire. Although he frowned a little while reading it, he still managed to accurately extract the truly useful information.

The moment the emperor grasped these things, his brow furrowed deeply, and his fingernails unconsciously dug into the soft leather cushions of the carved wooden chair…

"you mean?……"

"Yes, Your Majesty..."

Perilaya's expression was equally serious, even somewhat frightened, as she nodded slightly, confirming the emperor's guess:

"I would like to ask you to forgive my verbal offenses first... otherwise I would not dare to speak so presumptuously here."

"I will allow you to say whatever you want from now on, and I will forgive any offense it may cause."

The emperor tapped her fingers lightly twice on the table in front of her, and the surrounding shadows began to flicker. The servants who were serving in the distance all bowed and withdrew, leaving only the two of them in the entire tea room. The aroma of burning frankincense wafted from the intricate openwork carvings of the bronze stove beside them, and dappled sunlight shimmered through the carved window lattices, dancing on the tabletop.

Perilla swallowed hard, then reached for her teacup and took a sip, barely managing to suppress her panic before beginning to organize her thoughts:

"Your Majesty, I am now certain that your dream was an extremely ominous omen... What you saw foretells our destruction! It will be an unstoppable catastrophe that will sweep across our land like flames, leaving only destruction and death in the end!"

As she spoke the last two sentences, her voice even began to hoarse, and her face grew increasingly terrified... What she said could be described as utterly shocking, especially since it was addressed to the emperor. It could be called treasonous, alarmist, and an attempt to bewitch the emperor...

She was well aware of the danger of saying such things. Even if the emperor was very close to her, he might not tolerate such words that sounded like a threat... In fact, the more intelligent the emperor was, the more suspicious he would be.

However, she had to admit that she had indeed considered hiding what she had discovered, but ultimately could not bear the inner torment. After delaying for two days, she finally dared not hide it any longer and came to find him in a hurry today.

"Those skeletal armies, the flames of war, and all the other horrific sights foreshadow an unimaginable war that is about to break out, a war that will bring us utter destruction and will grow stronger like sparks in dry tinder, becoming a true catastrophe if left unchecked..."

At this point, Perilla no longer cared about anything. Regardless of whether the emperor would punish her for what she said, she had to say everything she wanted to say in order to live up to the trust she had been given and the responsibilities she now bore.

"...War? I am rather curious. Now that the Kurist have gradually accepted our rule, the Hols have been completely destroyed, and the Aslers have been terrified, what kind of enemies around us could possibly be enough to start a war that threatens our entire nation? Even if all the barbarians in the north and west united, they could not possibly do it."

The emperor remained calm throughout, clearly having composed himself after the initial shock, showing no sign of being alarmed. This relieved Perilaya, but she quickly regained her composure...

"There are no rivals to the empire on this land. They are not qualified. If they want to destroy our country, I think only we ourselves can do it, is that right?"

Perilaya immediately wavered, her face turning pale with fear:

"Your Majesty... I dare not speak presumptuously..."

"It's alright, I'm not surprised by it. After all, some people's ambitions have never changed from beginning to end, so how could they give up completely because of a temporary setback?... But I won't completely believe in a dream or a prophecy. These mysterious things are actually very difficult to explain, but it is indeed necessary to prepare early."

The emperor stood up. The sunlight streaming in from the window only illuminated her from the neck down, completely shrouding her exquisite face in shadow, leaving only her lava-colored eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

“We originally hoped to slowly remove the rotten flesh, cure the stubborn disease, and allow the body to slowly recover its health... but if we have to go that far, then there can be no more hesitation or weakness.”

The words were spoken very calmly, as if it were a casual invitation for tea, but to Perilaya at this moment, they sent a chill down her spine. It was as if a heavy snow-capped mountain was about to collapse and crumble towards her, gathering the power to destroy everything in an instant.

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

Warhorses are precious creatures. They can display their prowess on the battlefield, charging into battle and winning glory and victory for their masters. They look strong and agile, making it hard to imagine what they would be like to suffer from injuries and illnesses... But in fact, these creatures are quite prone to injury.

Their hooves were originally designed for running on the ground, not for carrying heavy loads or riding riders. Their skin is only good for dealing with the scratches of thorns and is extremely fragile in the face of steel. They can be easily injured if people want to use these swift and agile creatures for a long time. They must know how to take care of them.

Of course, there are exceptions. Passatrian horses, these bred monsters, always exceed people's understanding in every aspect. Not only are their muscles and bones stronger, their strength amazing, and their endurance outstanding, but they also have higher resistance to some common livestock diseases. Even their hooves are less prone to wear and tear, which greatly extends the time it takes to change their horseshoes... Relatively speaking, they don't need to be so careful.

The five grooms worked together, each moving with great care and caution. They skillfully and cautiously used their tools to lift the hooves of this enormous creature, revealing its mud-covered bottom, which was about the size of a bowl.

Then a craftsman used a special hook knife to remove the dirt while washing it with clean water from a nearby wooden bucket until the hoof, which was as black as jade, was revealed. Then he took pliers from the side and cut off the ends of the nails that secured the horseshoe around the hoof.

Then, with the gentle tapping of the hammer and the prying of the patch, the old horseshoe was slowly removed. The craftsman began to use a hook knife to cut the protruding parts at the bottom of the hoof, cutting all the irregular, deformed, and protruding parts into suitable shapes with a sharp blade, and then smoothing them with a file. Then, the helper took a scorching hot new horseshoe from the furnace, and the craftsman took it and pressed it on with quick eyes and hands. Accompanied by a pungent, burnt smell, the hot steel and the horn were firmly attached together.

Then, select nails of suitable size from the toolbox next to it, and hammer them into the hoof steadily and quickly, with consistent angles, so that even the tips of the nails protruding are perfectly aligned in an arc.

At this point, only some minor adjustments are needed to complete the task. Barring any unforeseen circumstances or bad ground, the horseshoe can be used for a considerable period of time, until the tough steel is worn down to its lasting condition.

The wizard stared intently at the scene before him, and even the light rain that began to fall did not dampen his enthusiasm, as if he had never seen anyone repair horseshoes in his entire life.

The grooms weren't surprised; after all, this guy had been here for two days in a row and had received the general's permission to move around freely. So they didn't bother with him and let him watch.

This scene was witnessed by Diyul, who happened to be passing by. For some reason, it piqued his curiosity, causing the mercenary leader, who had been quite relaxed these past two days, to step forward and examine this strange fellow.

He had learned about this strange wizard from his subordinates beforehand and knew that this guy was probably a charlatan. But at this moment, watching this middle-aged man with a thin face so intently watching a group of grooms changing the horseshoes of their warhorses, although it was indeed a rather interesting sight, and he would sometimes stop to take a few glances, he felt that something was not quite right... but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

This guy was wearing a whole set of leather clothes that clung to his limbs and body without any extra decorations. Although he looked neat, he also looked strange. His hair was shaved very short and his beard was cleanly shaved, probably for the purpose of disguise. His features were delicate, but he still couldn't hide his old age. The most conspicuous feature was the scar below his nose, which almost split his lips in two.

Diyul's suspicion didn't last long. After observing the other person's gaze more closely, he quickly realized that the other person wasn't watching the craftsmen and grooms changing horseshoes at all, but was staring at the horse! The gaze went from the horse's mane to its hooves, the expression complex and shifting.

...Seeing this horse was nothing special; he was also startled by these horses when he first arrived—it was the first time he had seen such agile monsters, even larger than fine steeds, that they were frightening even when standing still. It was unimaginable the sheer power of these behemoths charging in formation...A normal person would definitely take a second look at these creatures.

But the charlatan looked at the horse with a completely different expression... If he had to describe it, it was like a porcelain craftsman seeing a masterpiece made by a master in the king's banquet hall... with a heartfelt admiration and appreciation, a sense of inferiority mixed with a hint of resentment.

Thinking of this, Diyul frowned, realizing that he might be having too much of an imagination. After all, this charlatan couldn't possibly be related to anything like warhorse breeding. If he were, he wouldn't have to resort to being a charlatan to swindle people. No lord or noble would mistreat someone who knows how to breed fine horses; such people are worth as much as gold.

By this time, all four hooves of the magnificent warhorse had been replaced with horseshoes. It excitedly hopped around in the pen a few steps, and with a light touch, it bumped into the wooden fence next to it, making it sway. Several grooms nearby hurriedly reached out to grab the reins and kept stroking its neck and patting it to calm it down.

The charlatan who had been staring at the horse turned and left at that moment, his departure swift and decisive. In that instant, he glanced at him seemingly casually, their eyes meeting briefly, and before he could react, the other man was already behind him.

Diyul slowly turned his head to look at the departing figure, his eyes still filled with some doubt. But after thinking for a moment, he shook his head and put the matter out of his mind... After all, it wasn't really his concern. Perhaps he could... if necessary.

------

“What a wonderful masterpiece! There are so many talented people in this world… My arrogance and pettiness seem ridiculously funny now.”

In the tent late at night, the man, who had been asleep for a while, suddenly opened his eyes and stared wide-eyed at the top of the tent, watching the water droplets that had condensed from the mist gradually fall down in an arc, finally landing with a soft thud next to his pillow.

This drop of water, without any intention of splashing, seeped into the pillow's fabric in a solitary and resolute manner, unnoticed by anything but him. Yet, it could not disappear silently, leaving a damp stain on the pillow, which could be keenly felt by anyone who touched it.

After a long while, with a soft sigh, the man closed his eyes again, his expression inscrutable.

"I wonder how that little girl is doing... I hope they are all safe and sound."

387 The Death of One Person

Tersolius had never met the Holos king. Although he had defeated the king several times, the cunning fellow had never fallen into his hands. From beginning to end, Tersolius had only ever looked at the banner of the white horse trampling the sun.

The Kingdom of Hels had been completely destroyed. After the Asler army was annihilated, their last large-scale military force was also wiped out. A city without soldiers to guard it, no matter how strong or tall, was just a useless empty shell. Two thousand-man squads easily accomplished this task, bringing the final chapter to this southward campaign.

Now, his gains have far exceeded his expectations. A country has been destroyed in his hands, countless fertile fields have been planted with the flag of the empire, and the country's territory has expanded by a third. No glory can surpass his achievements. The feast produced in this war has even directly fed the empire. Noble elders, officers and generals, and even every soldier, every auxiliary force, and every construction legion are all satisfied with this.

His achievements were enough to make the empire's generals and nobles despair. It is no exaggeration to say that even if he claimed to be the world's greatest general, no one would be qualified to refute him. No one had the right to say that they had even half of his abilities, at least not until they proved themselves, and no one would believe it.

Now the entire south is operating according to his will. The appointment, dismissal and promotion of officials are all arranged by him according to the actual situation. The whole land is gradually being marked by the empire, and will eventually become the real organs and blood of this country instead of the flesh and blood that are eaten.

The Holsian king fled the battlefield as always, just as he had always managed to escape from his own clutches. Luck favored him each time, but only after each humiliating defeat, as if it were a mockery of him.

He was also inevitably curious about his opponent. Putting aside everything else, the opponent's indomitable, ruthless, and incredibly tenacious will was enough to impress him. He believed that few people could be so ruthless as to pay such a price in an attempt to achieve a slim chance of victory.

When the last lands of the Holoss surrendered under his iron hooves, he naturally learned of the vast emptied towns east of the Holoss capital, and the enormous crater of bones beside the capital was even more chilling—it wasn't the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood left by war, but the terrible consequence of pure malice and torment, which would make even a battle-hardened general's scalp tingle.

The city's order had completely collapsed half a month earlier. Arson, looting, and murder were commonplace, and the population had dwindled by more than half in a short period, turning it into a ghost town. The nobles were also overwhelmed and, despite their ambitions, had no time to manage the situation.

This chaotic scene was finally brought to an end when the Empire arrived. In the end, it was the Imperials who established a new order here, and in order to curb the vicious chaos, they chopped off hundreds of heads and hung them on trees and flagpoles around the city, using the most brutal means to forcibly suppress the unrest.

Of all the Holsian kingdoms, this place is the most cruel and desolate... and the one who caused this is their own king, their own monarch, who personally turned this once most prosperous and densely populated place into the desolate and ruined land it is today, in exchange for a bunch of meaningless things that have fertilized the southern land.

The last lords of the Hols still harbored delusions. They tried to negotiate with the Empire, but foolishly failed to see that they had lost the right to negotiate. They still wanted to retain their territory and wealth, and their final fate was to have their blades soaked in blood.

The Holstein nobles, who had been suffering repeated defeats, had no idea what kind of rule the Empire intended to impose on this land. They naively believed that the Empire would continue to use its old methods of governance, that they could still be nobles, and that they could still act arrogantly and domineeringly. Little did they know that what the Empire wanted to do was to completely overturn this land and establish an order belonging to the Empire, and that its legions would show no mercy to anyone who tried to obstruct this.

So after the war had completely ended, two things were urgently delivered to him—one was the Holsian king Julius, who was already emaciated and on the verge of death from torture in the dungeon, and the other was the ceremonial stone tablet passed down through generations of the royal family of the country.

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

After a brief examination, Talina shook her head solemnly, confirming that the former king was beyond saving. His extreme weakness left him barely clinging to life, making him practically a corpse with a sliver of vitality.

After prying open his teeth and forcibly pouring a bottle of medicine into his mouth, the thin, destitute king, who looked like an old beggar, finally regained some consciousness. He was dazed for a while, looking around with his blurry, cloudy eyes. Finally, he trembled and got up from the ground, then naturally turned his gaze to Tersolyus.

As if divine revelation had descended, the fallen king almost instantly recognized the man before him. His expression shifted rapidly, flashing with fear, anger, hatred, sorrow, and disgust, but ultimately only numbness remained. He calmed down, slowly raising his head to glance once more at the spirited general before him.

“Those who harm the country only seek death; I hope the general will grant their request.”

"...Don't you have anything to say?"

"No, even if I did, I wouldn't say it now. Please cut off my head and bury it in this land, at least let it rot in this country in the end... If you want to humiliate me, then feeding me to wild dogs is the same... Anyway, I probably won't live much longer."

"This is the end I deserve. It was destined the moment I committed my sins. I only hope that you will take the land from our hands and make this place prosperous... Otherwise, I will laugh at you even as I am roasted in the flames of hell."

Thesolius sized up the disheveled and filthy king, his gaze scraping across his skin like a knife, until finally he slowly shook his head.

"This is exactly why I came here. And your words only make me laugh. Throughout your country's history, is there anyone who has caused more harm to this country than you? You personally destroyed the most prosperous place and sent tens of thousands of people to those scoundrels to be dismembered and studied. Was that really to protect the people here? All you have ever wanted to protect is your own power."

“You are like the lord who captured you and locked you in the dungeon. Taking away your power and status is more painful for you than cutting your throat, so you are willing to pay any price for it. You have long since lost the right to be the king of this country.”

"You have been the ones who have harmed this land from the very beginning. What I need to do is eliminate you. If you had submitted earlier, I might have treated you kindly, but now..."

“You should be glad that you are weak enough to endure torture, otherwise I would be happy to do so.”

"Heh... You might be right, but I'm confused now. After all, you won, so you naturally have the right to do so."

Tersolius turned to look outside the tent, then waved his hand gently. Two guards came in and lifted Julius from either side, taking him directly out of the tent. They led him across the leveled gravel ground to a newly dug pit.

During this process, his two legs dragged on the ground like dead snakes, leaving a long trail. The wind blowing from the west completely blew his messy hair into his eyes, causing a stinging sensation that quickly spread and reached his heart.

As he let go of both hands, he naturally knelt on the ground. The trampled grass gently tickled his legs, and tiny insects were crawling inside.

He seemed to have never seen or heard so clearly before. Everything around him was crystal clear, stimulating his senses directly and distinctly. The dewdrops dripping from the tips of the grass blades were so translucent. The sunlight, carried by the gentle breeze, was so soft and warm.

It's so nice... It's still so nice here.

A pair of iron boots slowly walked to his side. The scale armor skirt covering his calves shimmered in the sunlight, and from the ornate scabbard, a long sword with a slightly curved blade was slowly being drawn. The sharp blade gleamed with a lustrous light like autumn water, and even seemed to have a warm feel to it.

"Don't change the layout of the royal city. It was all designed in advance, otherwise that stone will be useless... You may not need it, but you may need it someday."

Tersolius nodded expressionlessly, flicked the blade lightly with his index finger, making the saber ring out in his hand, and then, as another drop of dew fell from the tip of a blade of grass, a flash of light appeared in his hand, accurately splitting the drop of dew in two, scattering it into more and smaller droplets.

Immediately afterwards, scalding hot blood gushed out, washing away the soil and grass, and finally completely submerging the dew that had just dispersed, making it indistinguishable from the rest of the body.

A hairy head rolled steadily into the pit, its eyes still opening and closing in confusion, but eventually opening in relief. It began to slowly lose its warmth in the soil, and its body was pushed into the pit as well. The two fit together perfectly, appearing as one again.

"There's no need to set up any markers here. Let people and horses trample over it, otherwise someone will definitely dig him up and mutilate his body. Just leave his body for insects and ants to eat."

The guards obeyed and went off. Soon, shovels were used to dig up the blood-stained soil from the ground and throw it into the pit until it was completely filled. They even rode their warhorses over it to make it a firm, flat area, which would probably grow new pasture in the future.

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

My legs felt weak and numb, and I had exhausted most of my strength. My chest was rapidly expanding and contracting, craving fresh oxygen, and my whole body ached and felt tired.

But he forced himself to keep going, traversing streets that were much quieter than usual, keeping the bucket on his shoulder steady and balanced, the sound of the water splashing inside constantly urging the thirst in his throat.

Finally, Yak arrived at his house, carefully put down the wooden bucket, took out his key to open the door, then carried the bucket inside and poured it into the water tank.

Looking at the water tank, which wasn't even a fifth full, he gave a helpless bitter smile, then collapsed backward, sitting directly on the bed, utterly exhausted... Of course, a grown man like him couldn't possibly be this tired from just two buckets of water—but that was under normal circumstances, walking two streets to fetch water from the well, not walking dozens of miles and spending most of the day round trip... After all, even the strongest man can't be used like a donkey.

Fortunately, these two buckets of water are enough for him to drink for several days. If he uses them sparingly, he can last even longer, so he doesn't have to work so hard every day, which is a rare comfort.

After catching his breath, he stood up and used a ladle to scoop half a ladle of water from the bottom of the vat. He almost couldn't wait to start drinking it, letting the cool water rush from his throat into his stomach, quickly quenching the thirst that had been plaguing him.

He drank until he felt slightly nauseous before finally stopping, satisfied... He couldn't help it; he hadn't enjoyed such dehydration in ages. Although he always tried to conserve water, he couldn't resist drinking to his heart's content at this moment.

When he was home alone, he was too lazy to cook any formal meals. He would basically bake some bread and make do with the pickled vegetables he had made before for several days in a row. He would even leave the plates piled up for several days before washing them all at once, which attracted some flies. If Doris saw this, she would definitely not let him off the hook.

As Ark cut another slice of dry bread to fill his stomach, he suddenly heard footsteps outside the door, getting closer and closer until they stopped steadily at his door... followed by the sound of knocking on the door.

He immediately became alert, reaching for his short sword. The water shortage in the city had certainly driven many people away, but it had also given some unscrupulous individuals the opportunity to cause trouble. Although there was no chaos yet, he wouldn't regret not preparing earlier when such a thing actually happened. He preferred to strike first in any situation.

,………………