Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

"...It's truly a chilling experience."

Thesolius stood thoughtfully to one side, wearing a simple black robe, completely ignoring the stench emanating from the decaying limbs. The emperor, standing to his left, was also dressed simply. Both men wore masks and maintained a certain distance from where Talina was working.

After a brief moment of thought, Thesolius turned to look at the emperor:

"Your Majesty, so this thing is really close to you?"

The emperor nodded without hesitation, his furrowed brow revealing a hint of lingering fear.

“That’s right. This thing has infiltrated my bedroom, which is guarded by Ingersoll himself. Even my hounds couldn’t have gotten in without leaving a trace and launched an assassination attempt on me.”

"Looking back now, it still seems unbelievable. I was like I was possessed, taking the swords and knives off the wall on my own..." Clautina reached out and touched the military knife at her waist, her slender fingers repeatedly opening and closing on the gold-threaded hilt.

"I don't know why I swung that sword, but by the time I realized it, it was already done subconsciously, and it just so happened to cut the sword that was about to jump down and pierce my neck in two, as if someone was holding my hand and guiding me to do that."

Thesolius fell into thought again, but this time it was extremely brief; something subtle flashed across his eyes.

"Since the outcome is good, there's no need to dwell on it... Regardless of whose help it was, I am sincerely grateful. If Your Majesty had truly perished, then the situation would have been truly irreversible..."

"...Hearing you say that, I actually feel a little happy. Are you worried about me, General Tersolius?"

A slight smile appeared on the emperor's previously stern face. He bent his elbow and gently nudged Thesolius's shoulder. Thesolius took the bump without resistance, his upper body tilting to the side, his expression slightly helpless.

"Of course I'm worried about you, Your Majesty. Even if you weren't the emperor, I would still be worried about you. I was so worried that I almost ran my horse to death."

The emperor was slightly taken aback and took a step back in surprise, completely unprepared for Tersolius's straightforward answer. However, his smile grew even brighter. After a brief hesitation, he took two firm steps forward, bringing them even closer together.

"You can say more; your emperor is very happy to hear it... If you say something nice, I might even reward you, hmm?"

Tersolius turned his body to the side and crashed into the emperor's arms without any regard for the consequences. Clautina was caught off guard and staggered back two steps. After regaining her balance, she kicked him again in a fit of embarrassment and anger, wanting to punish her general for his offense. However, he simply turned around and dodged the kick, causing the emperor to stumble instead.

Before the emperor could decide to continue the pursuit, Tersolius intervened in time to prevent the war from escalating... or perhaps it could have worsened the situation:

"I'm now certain that some force was helping Your Majesty back then, otherwise, with your current skills, you definitely wouldn't have been able to dodge this thing..."

The emperor narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint flashing within them:

"Alright, no more rewards, now for punishment! Stand still and let me step on you, this is the Emperor's order!"

"Then please submit this proposal to the Senate, Your Majesty. We will discuss it carefully and reach a conclusion—oh dear!"

Before he could finish his trash talk, the emperor stomped on his boots without hesitation, leaving a bright white footprint on the fine leather. And he wasn't going to stop there, launching a continuous attack that left Tersolius with no choice but to dodge.

Tarina, who was standing next to her, had finished her work, meticulously recording it in her parchment notebook. She had also soaked the remaining limbs in the preservative solution. She had already washed her hands and was wiping the water droplets off them with a cotton cloth, watching the interaction between the two with great envy.

There is probably only one person in this world who can joke and laugh with the emperor... Their relationship has never changed because of their status and power. They have always had complete trust in each other, a trust that is enough to entrust their lives to one another.

This is not something that can be formed by simple friendship, but something deeper, like fate, intertwined and almost inseparable. It is a bond between two young people who came from that small village together, a bond stronger than blood ties. Therefore, they have no doubts about each other, nor do they waste time doing anything unnecessary.

In this brightly lit house, bathed in the light streaming through the windows, the emperor chased after his general, who was approaching his advisors, preparing to rely on Talina to evade further pursuit. Everything seemed jubilant and lively, almost unreal, yet pure and precious.

After all, there are only three young people here...

457 The Shadow of War (3)

"Maybe I should find someone to teach you to dance..."

After chasing for quite some time, the emperor finally had no choice but to stop. He wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, looked at Tersolyus who was not even out of breath, and clearly realized the obvious difference between people.

Thesolius was tall and imposing, with an extraordinary presence, but few had ever witnessed his agility and skill in complex environments. He was as nimble as a leaping bird, and after his initial kick, the emperor never managed to touch him again, instead running himself up in a sweat.

"With just a little training, you'll definitely dance very well, enough to make even professional dancers feel ashamed."

After teasing his general, the emperor finally caught his breath, reached out and pulled a chair over from the side, and sat down without caring about his image. Talina, who had neglected her exercise due to being too busy lately, was also covered in sweat and was leaning against the table, panting. She even seemed a little dizzy, which made Tersolius look at her frequently.

Under such gazes, Talina felt inexplicably guilty... At the same time, she realized that she had indeed been too engrossed in her hobby these past two days, hardly ever leaving the laboratory, while Tersolius and the Emperor were busy reorganizing the new legion.

“I don’t like dancing, and I don’t need that kind of thing. On the battlefield, it’s just a crowd of people, there’s no time for you to adjust your steps… These two skills should be very useful when dueling with someone.”

He casually opened the window beside him, and facing the slightly glaring sun, Tersolius rubbed his temples. His expression finally turned serious as he turned to look at the emperor:

"Your Majesty, the commotion should end now. I need to prepare to depart."

The emperor nodded calmly at almost the same time, showing no surprise whatsoever… or perhaps that childish chase just moments before was an unspoken farewell, bringing this brief reunion to a close.

"Then go ahead, and don't forget to come back with a victory as soon as possible. There will definitely be a lot of messes for us to clean up afterward... No matter what you want to do, there will always be someone holding you back. It's infuriating to think about, but I will take care of it. You just need to focus on the battle."

“Of course.” Tersolius slowly curled the corners of his mouth into a smile.

“While I would not claim to be invincible, Turials is no match for me… He must also be looking to finish the job in one fell swoop, but I will show him just how difficult that is.”

"The terrain around the capital is rather flat, and they have to come here, so their options are already very limited... It's right here—"

A finger covered in steel armor touched a node on the map on the wall, as if a natural disaster had struck the land:

"I will utterly crush their ambitions and delusions."

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

Let's go! Let's go!

Everyone cheered the word, and soldiers, fully equipped and ready for battle, formed an endless iron curtain in the square, their banners fluttering in the new silk. They were determined to add gray smoke and blood to this symbol of honor, to add luster to their still meager glory.

Everyone was cheering. Soldiers raised their swords and slapped their shields, struck the paving stones with the shafts of their spears and halberds, and stomped on the ground with their boots. The clanging of metal echoed like waves, washing over every corner, making it almost impossible to hear anything else but see the surging waves of this man-made ocean.

The finest soldiers, selected from across the capital, awaited their general to lead them into battle, to bring them glory, and to crush the enemy. A surge of fervor coursed through their hearts, accompanied by waves of cheers that pounded in their chests, making their faces flush red. Even with hoarse throats, they refused to stop.

Amidst this great anticipation, on this majestic and imposing Senate Square, the troops were eagerly awaiting their arrival. The First Guards Corps of the Capital, the Capital Garrison Corps, and the elite troops who had previously rushed to the aid of the capital, a total of 23,742 soldiers, were ready for battle!

They had been waiting for this moment for so long, they were calling out, they were anxiously waiting—to have someone appear before them who could bring them victory and glory… and they soon received a response.

A tall figure clad in silver armor appeared as if emerging from the sun, standing atop the towering steps of the Senate. His golden winged helmet resembled the outstretched wings of the Imperial Double-Headed Eagle, and every hair on his magnificent white lion cloak shimmered with a crystal-clear brilliance.

He was so heroic and extraordinary, so imposing, that just by standing there, he forced all eyes to be focused on him. This was the combined gaze of hundreds of thousands of people, enough to kill the weak, but to him it was just a negligible breeze, not even enough to make him waver for a moment.

His generals and confidants appeared behind him, each exuding an imposing aura. In the sunlight, their armor gleamed dazzlingly, as if the gods were blessing them at that moment.

Raise your right hand and gently clench your fist... The next moment, as if someone had grabbed your throat, everyone shut their mouths, ending their hysterical cheers. The city instantly transformed from extreme noise to extreme silence, but the emotions did not diminish in the slightest. Like a suppressed volcano, they were silently boiling.

"Set off."

Two simple words, no long speech, no inspiring cheers, just a simple command, clean and decisive like severing a limb, yet it was as if he were giving an order to the whole world. In the next instant, everything around him began to respond to his command.

As bugles and war drums sounded together, and flags waved in response, the long lines of steel formations on the square began to separate, entering the city's main thoroughfare in an orderly fashion, albeit somewhat chaotic, manner, and beginning the legion's march.

Advancing a large army is no easy task, but they are no strangers to it... The veterans followed the column with composure. After retiring from the legion, they had marched like this countless times in their dreams. Those memories that seemed like a lifetime ago have now become reality. After a brief period of familiarization, they moved with more skill and tacit understanding. The spears, halberds and long spears on their shoulders gleamed with a cold light, and the shields hanging behind them were painted with the symbol of the First Guards Legion - a grinning white wolf.

The Capital Garrison Legion is also a well-trained army, but because the country is too powerful, they rarely have the opportunity to be used. Today, they are only responsible for maintaining the city's security. Today, they are also in high spirits, convinced that they can wash away the shame of the past and gain glory in the war to protect the empire.

Thesolius promised them ultimate victory and said he would lead them to retrieve it, and everyone believed they would eventually succeed.

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

Click!

An ominous sound came from beside him. Without any hesitation, he immediately relaxed his shoulders, and with a sense of dread, slowly returned the bowstring to its original position, then unhesitatingly removed the arrow.

A clear crack had already appeared on the bow, which was carved from yew wood, cutting through three layers of the wood grain on its back. It could break completely at any moment, and if he hadn't stopped in time, the broken bow could have even hit his face, broken his teeth, and blinded him.

Such things were quite rare for archers in Western countries. The tough and sturdy yew wood was not easy to break, and its simple structure ensured its durability to a great extent. It was not easy to have any problems whether it was in humid fog or dry weather... But that did not mean that there would be no problems. At least he had seen it before.

And that unlucky fellow was none other than his father—his hometown was always heavily taxed, but if one could use a strong bow and become an archer when the lord went to war, half of the taxes could be waived, and one could also receive military pay. So his whole family knew how to shoot arrows, and his father was impaled in the throat by a broken bow... This was quite unlucky among those who encountered such misfortune.

A longbow with a high draw weight inherently possesses terrifying power. Once drawn with all one's might, it is easy to injure the user if there is even the slightest mistake... At this moment, he was already drenched in sweat and felt quite fortunate, thankful that he might have managed to protect one eye and a few teeth.

Of course, besides feeling relieved, he also felt an intense pang of heartache—this was his only bow, and it was the one he was most comfortable with. Now it was broken, and things were really going to get complicated… At the very least, he wouldn't get those eight Friel's worth of money. What kind of archer is an archer without a bow?

But his frustration vanished almost immediately, replaced by a deep-seated despondency and anger that made him grit his teeth and kick the fence beside him, leaving a muddy footprint on the sturdy wood.

Not long ago, he was genuinely happy because their salary had increased from 6 frials a day to 8, which meant an extra 30 frials a month... But now, he felt only genuine anger and scorn towards the king. If he weren't afraid of being arrested and hanged, he could have spouted his filth for a quarter of an hour straight.

The reason is quite simple: the promised 8 Freer were only distributed for one month, and after that, even the original 6 were not reached. Now, each person is only receiving 3 per day! It's like a severe blow to their health!

He had initially thought he could save a small amount of money, but after careful calculation, he realized that after deducting the cost of armor maintenance and other necessary expenses, he could only save a few coins at most, which meant he had risked his life for nothing... For soldiers who live on the edge, what could be more resentful than this?

After all, if it were just a matter of halving their pay, there would still be discontent, but it wouldn't have reached this point. However, Redbeard Yotserro first announced that he would increase their pay, and then after a month, he only gave them a pitiful amount of money... Under such circumstances, even a fool would feel that their king was insulting and mocking them.

The growing discontent within the army is a terrifying sign for anyone... because it means that these formidable weapons of the army may be out of control and could even turn against their masters. Any rational king would never easily default on his soldiers' pay.

But Redbeard Yotsero already had a lot of trouble to say... Losing the most fertile southwest region not only made the lords uneasy and quite dissatisfied, but he also lost most of his source of tax revenue. The funds he raised through other means could not be delivered in a short time, and the tigers and wolves he raised only accepted weekly payments, so the depletion of resources in his existing territory was also of limited effect...

In short, he can hardly afford the expenses of this large army now... It's like trying to hold up a wooden frame that's about to fall apart with just two arms, and there are pottery jars on the frame. Just maintaining the status quo is already making him rack his brains.

He had thought he had the resources to maneuver against Natamus and await reinforcements from other countries. But now it seemed... his soldiers would cause chaos even before reinforcements arrived. He now had to find a way to satisfy those ravenous wolves and feed them his meat...

458 The Shadow of War (4)

"If that's the case, then we should consider this a final agreement, Your Majesty?"

Yotserlo's face was stiff and disheveled, his red beard, like a bristle brush, trembling along with his lips. His eyes were frighteningly bright, like a terrified wolf hiding in its den. His right hand gripped the armrest of the seat so tightly that his nails dug into the paint. His face was pale, and yellowish-brown spots were particularly noticeable around his eye sockets.

Standing before him was a man dressed in a silk robe, wearing a small embroidered hat, with gorgeous gold iris patterns covering his clothes. His belt was inlaid with gems and pearls, and his boots were even wrapped in gold—which served no purpose, being both easily damaged and adding extra weight; it was merely a display of the owner's extravagance.

The man had a finely trimmed mustache, his chin and cheeks were clean-shaven, his cheeks were thin and even somewhat sunken, his cheekbones were high and his eyes were deep-set, and a hooked nose protruded prominently. His face was sprinkled with a fine layer of powder, and he was covered in perfume, making him look both luxurious and pretentious. At this moment, he extended his slender, thin hand, which was covered with jeweled rings, and handed over a piece of parchment.

Yotesero fell into a long silence, staring at the other's hand holding the parchment as if it were the claw of a devil, his expression shifting between light and shadow.

This is a fine piece of paper, with gold thread along the edges. The paper is delicate and smooth, and it is obviously not cheap... But no matter what, it is just an ordinary piece of paper. However, for Yotesero at this moment, this piece of paper is more frightening than a red-hot iron plate... or rather, he would rather take the red-hot iron plate.

At least the red-hot iron plate would only burn his muscles temporarily, but this piece of paper would torment his soul day and night from then on... After all, no matter who sells the land passed down from their ancestors to a merchant, it is not something that can be forgiven in a short time.

"So, according to our agreement, Your Majesty, you will use Storelli as collateral to borrow 200,000 gold flav from us... Of course, we will offer the most favorable interest rate, but if you fail to repay on time, we will take over this territory as agreed. At that time, the legal ruler of Storelli will be His Majesty the King of the Kingdom of Winddin. You can consider it carefully. If you think it's okay, please stamp it. The first batch of 60,000 gold flav will be delivered within three days."

The merchant in front of him continued to use sweet talk, but he no longer cared... This guy was a royal merchant of the Kingdom of Winddin. He was trading with a country rather than a merchant... That's why the other party was so calm and composed, not afraid that he would renege on his promise later.

After all, even if he manages to overcome this calamity, Salanod will definitely suffer heavy losses, and it's uncertain how many of his troops will be left... In any case, it certainly won't be the military superpower it once was. If he refuses to give it to them, the army of the Kingdom of Winddin can come and take it themselves, and he can even collect some extra interest.

It could be said that once he stamped his seal, everything would be irreversible, and that land, rich in farmland and minerals, would have to be handed over to someone else... 20 gold fura was a bargain, but he had no other choice.

He controlled the vast majority of Salano's army, which meant he was responsible for feeding them. The more carefree and arrogant he was in normal times, the more wretched he became now that he had lost most of his funding. He had to feed them immediately, otherwise the soldiers' resentment and discontent could easily send him to hell. He would even be willing to cut off his own flesh for that.

Finally, he reached out and took the paper. His rough fingers trembled violently. He gritted his teeth, picked up a quill pen from the table next to him, signed his name on it, and then stamped it heavily, as if he were hitting someone on the head with a warhammer.

"...I hope you can do what you said you would do. If the first batch of money cannot be delivered within three days, then I will have no choice but to declare you a sinner of Salanod."

A subtle threat emanated from his words, but compared to his usual demeanor, it seemed excessively polite and refined, sending a chill down the spine of the logistics supervisor beside him. He knew his king had already entertained the thought of killing… of course, only for a fleeting moment. After all, Redbeard Yotsero was, in any case, a competent king, and a true king knows when to temper his temper.

"You don't need to worry about that at all."

Reaching out to take the parchment, the merchant's face broke into an barely suppressed smile, one might even suspect he was about to grin so wide his mouth would split open, his neatly trimmed mustache swaying like a cat's whiskers.

“In fact, you can get it now… Please allow my servant who is waiting outside to come in.”

Yotesero frowned, instantly realizing what this meant—the other party was clearly quite satisfied with the price, and had even already transported the money over to prevent the deal from falling through, just waiting for him to sign and stamp it, fearing that he might back out.

In fact, he was starting to regret it, but reason forced him to grit his teeth and wave to the side. The guards at the door quickly obeyed and let the people waiting outside in... Just as expected, the servants brought in several large boxes, each with the crisp sound of coins clinking together.

"Here is a full 10 gold flav. The remaining half will be delivered within a month. Moreover, according to the contract, our Chamber of Commerce will fully support Your Majesty. All commercial activities along sea and land routes will be suspended during this period. Finally, I wish us a pleasant cooperation, Your Majesty."

His lips twitched, but he ultimately extended his right hand and shook it forcefully with a strength that seemed to crush the other person's bones.

"I'm not very happy right now, but I don't regret it either... Oh well, it's sold, so be it. We shouldn't be so short-sighted, should we?"

"Of course, of course."

The merchant smiled quite pleasedly, like a fox with a wide grin, ambitiously watching a wounded lion, but already temporarily satisfied.

"We will remember it."

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

A sharp knife is inserted into the upper part of the fish's belly, and then slides down to cut through the skin, flesh, and scales, creating a neat incision. Then, nimble and strong fingers pry open the incision, revealing the internal organs. The hook-like structure on the back of the knife cleverly pulls out the intestines. The smooth, rounded metal surface does not damage the internal organs or allow the unclean contents to contaminate the fish meat.

Next, insert the blade into the fish's gills, and with a slight twist of the wrist, the tip of the knife will pluck out the bright red, multi-layered bristle-like gills. The remaining blood will flow away with a ladle of water, washing away the surface mucus. That completes the processing of the fish.

The wooden bucket next to them was already piled high with these fish. A child with a rough, red face was busy rubbing salt onto the fish meat and then stacking them up layer by layer. The fish scales were not removed, which is a characteristic of the fish pickling method used by the residents of the seaside. The finished product has a very strong flavor and is more appetizing.

The smell during this work was naturally not pleasant; the strong, fishy stench was enough to make people want to stay away. The villagers were used to it, but outsiders would probably find it hard to accept.

But today, the father and son, who were working, kept diverting their attention to one side until they were pricked by a fishbone and then cried out in pain.

A figure that seemed out of place appeared on the beach, drawing curious glances from the villagers. Curious children followed him at a distance, while several elderly people sitting at the village entrance pointed and whispered about him.

This man was indeed quite eye-catching... He was completely wrapped in loose white running clothes, with a simple black belt around his waist. His forehead and face were hairless, and his features appeared exceptionally round. Only his pair of icy blue eyes revealed a chilling rationality and coldness. He was very tall, and his upper body muscles were exceptionally well-developed. Even through his clothes, one could easily see the strong and sculpted lines.

Almost no one could tell who this man was... After all, his attire would have seemed extremely strange to anyone, regardless of their profession or status. Even the most respected priests in the city wouldn't look like this... He looked almost like someone who wasn't an ordinary person.

The man had been on the beach since this morning, silently gazing at the sea. The villagers didn't dare disturb him, carefully going about their business and waiting for him to leave on his own. This might become some interesting gossip for them later, but at least for now, no one would be foolish enough to provoke such an obviously unusual person.

But sometimes, even if you don't provoke others, they'll still provoke you...

"Hello, I'd like to ask you some questions."

The man, busy gutting the fish, suddenly shuddered. He looked up and saw a pair of cold, emotionless eyes. The clear blue was almost entirely pure, sending chills down his spine.