Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

He is Hertharos, the legion's second-in-command, who took over the management of the legion after I left, and has maintained it ever since.

"Alright, continue with your duties. I have to continue my journey... If any issues arise, do as I told you. If everything goes smoothly, do not act rashly."

The man nodded slightly, his face remaining expressionless, still utterly indifferent even to his commander. Any other imperial commander might have already shown displeasure.

But Thesolius didn't care at all. He knew this man very well... as if they had worked together for who knows how long and understood each other's temperaments perfectly, so he didn't care about such trivial details.

He also knew very well that Hersalos was a notoriously dull guy. Although he was steady and serious in his work, he was basically not good at socializing... Even a new recruit who had only been in the army for a few days could understand this from the smallest details.

This natural intuition conflicting with his memory left him somewhat amused and exasperated, but he didn't feel troubled... As he got closer to the capital of the empire, the fragments that kept flashing through his mind became more numerous and clearer.

Perhaps in the near future, this strange yet familiar memory will be completely his. At that time, will he be Tersolius or Xu Ning?

This kind of thing is destined to be difficult to answer, but he no longer cares... He has a firm will and clear thinking, so what is there to doubt? He just needs to do what he should do.

He patted the man on the shoulder with a smile. The man, like a wooden puppet, simply nodded slightly. He didn't seem to care, reached out and picked up his helmet from the side, then walked out.

Soon, a commotion broke out outside. A troop of over a hundred cavalrymen, carrying the banner of Tersolius, charged out of the camp gate, kicking up a cloud of dust, and disappeared into the distance amidst the soldiers' discussions.

Herthalos only turned to look in the direction where the smoke and dust had disappeared at this moment. After silently watching for a while, he moved a chair from the side and placed it in front of the table, then silently began to look at the pile of parchment on it.

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Building a permanent barracks requires strong laborers, as it involves not only digging deep foundations but also felling thick logs and shaping them into suitable forms for the framework.

Imperial soldiers are always very good at this kind of thing. They often build bridges and pave roads during their campaigns. For the empire, the sign of conquering a region is that a wide road extends into that region, which also means that the imperial army has taken control of the area.

The camp had ample building materials stored in it. The thick logs, which had been air-dried for several years, were at the right moisture level and would no longer crack easily. They had become hard and easy to work with.

The mountain people and slaves immediately joined in, their enthusiasm for building their own barracks growing high. They wielded shovels and picks with great force, piling up huge heaps of mud and debris on the open ground next to them.

Ordinary barracks require a foundation dug more than half a person deep, while large barracks require a foundation at least one person deep before carbonized logs are buried as pillars, and the excavated mud is backfilled to form a sturdy frame for the building.

The fired red tiles had accumulated in the warehouse and were now being transported out by the cartload, making the mountain people dizzy with envy—these neatly shaped, high-quality tiles were something they would have to trade for with game back home! Only the richest and most experienced hunters could afford to cover their houses with these beautiful red tiles.

But now it's like it's free, and they can use it in barracks where only a few people live... This terrifying luxury left them speechless.

Of course, while I was surprised, no one was going to be polite.

They were even afraid that the other party might change their mind and take away these beautiful tiles, so they almost frantically finished the basic framework and then hurriedly took the amount they needed and piled it in front of the unfinished framework.

A large amount of supplies taken from the warehouse were used in the camp. The newly arrived 2000 soldiers needed a large area to settle in, but fortunately, the military camp, which stretched for several miles, had already reserved enough space.

Tarina watched as the frame was erected, the thick tree trunks were cut with grooves and knots, and after being trimmed with tools, they were pieced together and secured with copper nails.

The soil, after being sifted to remove stones, was used to build the walls. Once dried, it would firmly support the framework. Weeds on the ground were cleared away, and the soldiers, chanting slogans, used heavy stone hammers to tamp the soil firmly.

It took shape almost at a visible speed, and by nightfall, a large area of ​​new barracks frames had already been laid out, and they would be ready to move in within a few days.

They also discovered that these soldiers had no different habits from their own; they cooked at the same time, rested at the same time, and followed the same rules...

This similarity allowed them to quickly overcome their initial awkwardness and realize that they shared the same identity. Some of the bolder mountain people even sneaked into other camps, ate a meal, and then leisurely returned to their tents before the camp gates closed.

………………

Talina pulled back the curtain of her tent and walked in rather cautiously. Even though she knew this was the army of Tersolius, the girl still felt nervous about coming to an unfamiliar military camp.

The military has never been a safe place for civilians; it represents violence and killing, and trained soldiers rarely have a heart of mercy.

Although she knew her identity was different from before, the girl was still somewhat timid and hesitant when she saw the unfamiliar army, a habit she had developed in the past.

Especially since Tersolius had left the camp in the afternoon, Tarina suddenly lost her composure and became somewhat flustered.

There was a simple bed on the ground of the tent, lined with moisture-proof straw and covered with bedding. She tidied her hair and sat on the bed, ready to get some rest.

Just as she took off one of her shoes, the tent flap was suddenly flung open, and a dark figure rushed in, lunging at her in a few steps.

The sudden fright almost made Tarina scream, and she instinctively backed away, her fingers gripping the hilt of the knife at her waist. When she saw the mountain girl's wicked smile, she became furious.

Colin, carrying a bowl, barged in without a word, ready to mock the doctor for being startled by him. But then, two slender hands suddenly grabbed her face and pulled it apart forcefully—proving that no matter how much a person exercises, the flesh on their face is still soft.

"Ouch! Ouch! Stop it! I'm still holding the bowl! The soup is going to spill! The soup is going to spill!... You took advantage of me... No, I was wrong, I was wrong!"

…………

Colin rubbed his red cheeks, rolling his eyes as he complained, "I kindly brought you meat, and you repay kindness with enmity! You have to apologize to me, doctor; my reputation has suffered a huge loss!"

Talina completely ignored the mountain girl's nonsense. In the wooden bowl in front of her, hot soup was steaming, with finely chopped vegetables floating on the surface. Two large pieces of slightly blackened smoked meat had been cooked until they were loose and gave off the rich aroma of cured meat.

"Hmph! Hmph... How about it? There was no meat for dinner tonight, but I managed to get you a bowl. You should thank me properly."

Colin leaned over again, also holding a bowl of stew in her hands. Because she was chewing, her speech was a little slurred.

"Where did you find it? I remember we ran out of meat in our supplies."

"Of course I asked those kind guys next to me for it! They were so generous, they even told me to eat more so I could grow taller... Wait! Do they mean I'm too short right now?!"

Tarina glanced helplessly at the oblivious Colin, then reached out and picked up the bowl from the floor.

"You're only realizing it now...?"

"Then give me this bowl too, maybe I can grow taller!"

"Never."

rest for a day

Taking a day off, the author will also need to organize their thoughts and refine the outline. Next up is Volume 2…

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Volume: Volume 2

103 Arrival (4)

Chainmail, or chainmail, is a type of flexible armor. These armors, made up of small, interlocking steel rings, can easily deform to adapt to the bending of the limbs. As long as the size difference is not too great, this armor can fit most body types.

This type of armor offers excellent protection against slashing attacks, while also being more flexible, easy to wear, and suitable as inner armor for other heavy armors.

It sounds like there are many advantages, but Teresolus knew that there was one disadvantage that was never mentioned, but it was widespread—the devastating damage that fine nail rings caused to beards and hair.

He never grew a beard, but his hair had grown quite long, and every time he took off his helmet, a few strands would get stuck in the gaps of the clasp.

If hair reaches the shoulders, this problem is hard to avoid. Unfortunately, there were no skilled hairdressers in his army, and even if he were to use a dagger to deal with it himself, he wasn't confident he could tidy it up to look presentable.

There were such servants in Pontra's bathhouse, but he was completely unaware of it at the time...

The cavalrymen, of course, had no idea that their general was troubled; they were now filled with excitement, and even the reins of their horses were trembling slightly.

Only they knew the price they had paid to get here... Just as Thesolius had promised them, they had finally returned.

A total of 452 cavalrymen rode their warhorses behind the general. Their armor was covered with marks from swords and axes, the plates were bent and the rings were broken. In many places, the bloodstains were difficult to clean. Some of it was from wounds that seeped into the lining, but more of it was the blood of the enemy that had splattered on their bodies and seeped through their armor.

Swords and blades chipped against the hard armor rings, spears broke in two from heavy use, and the gaps between the iron staff and chain mace were filled with dark red blood and covered with scratches of all sizes.

The warhorses' once glossy coats were now covered with long, bald patches—marks left from healed wounds. These strong creatures recovered much faster than their masters.

The sun was shining brightly today, and the stone slabs on the wide road were scorching hot. Their armor reflected the dazzling light, and the sun's heat penetrated their skin, like a river flowing under the sun, shimmering and moving steadfastly in one direction.

The crowds on the road were so dense, but everyone made way for them. After this period of time, they are now known to everyone.

The sound of iron hooves pounding on the stone slabs was crisp and loud; the sound of more than 1000 hooves pounding simultaneously was more intense and awe-inspiring than a storm.

Each squad has its own flag, and all the flags fly proudly overhead, making a series of sounds as the squad slowly tears through the air.

The gleam of steel shone in the distance as the capital's garrison awaited them on both sides of the road. The tips of their spears were denser than ears of wheat in a field, and the soldiers lined up resembled fields of wheat, eagerly anticipating the end of the road.

The cavalry showed no intention of slowing down, and the garrison soldiers made no attempt to stop them; they cleared a wide road and allowed the cavalry to pass through.

Amidst the dust kicked up by the warhorses, a man clad in armor rode towards Thesolius, then turned his horse around without any hesitation and rode alongside him.

When the cavalrymen in the play passed through the road between them, as the horns sounded, the soldiers picked up their spears and shields and followed behind the cavalrymen.

At the officer's shouts, they formed a neat column and followed like a long snake amidst the rustling of their armor. Caravans and pedestrians passed through the open spaces on both sides, making way for the army on the wide road.

In the morning sunlight, this peculiar legion began its march towards the imperial capital, as if two forces had joined together and were about to launch an attack...

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

"How is the situation, Turials?"

Thesolius did not turn his head, just as he knew the man next to him did not either.

"Everything is arranged, Lord Tersolius... The gates of the Senate are open, and His Majesty will arrive soon. Those to be questioned have already been confined to the central speaking platform. Everyone is waiting for your arrival."

Tersolius suddenly chuckled softly, a hint of wistfulness on his face:

“I bet there’s a great theatrical performance waiting for me…maybe I’ll be one of the actors. What about you, Turials? What kind of role are you playing?”

“I am His Majesty’s merchant, nothing more, my lord.”

The slightly chubby man turned his head. His short hair was clearly the result of a recent haircut, and Tersolius could clearly see the stubble on his forehead, indicating that he hadn't washed it properly.

The man looked pampered; not only was his skin fair, but even the skin on his fingers was thick, smooth, and without scars.

The armor he wore fit him well, and his bones and muscles were strong. Although he was not tall, he still had a very imposing presence.

Thesolius burst into laughter, and Moss, swaying his long neck, quickened his pace and overtook the docile castrated horse beside him in an instant.

"Then follow us, businessman. We might have a chance to make a fortune today..."

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The maids were busy at work. Although they were servants in name, each of them was of noble status. When they walked out of the golden palace, they were enough to make ordinary minor nobles bow to them.

But now, they are just servants...

A close-fitting silk inner robe was draped over her smooth, fair skin and fastened with buttons made of jewels and gold.

Then came the heavy, magnificent purple robe, gold-threaded boots made of the finest Salmir leather, a gorgeous cloak embroidered with thousands of patterns, a belt inlaid with gold plates and rubies and sapphires, and all sorts of exquisite ornaments...

A dozen servants bustled around the tall figure, but under the female official's command, there was no panic or delay. Everyone accurately completed their duties, preparing the most solemn and majestic robes for the emperor amidst the incense.

Finally, the most respected lady-in-waiting held up the magnificent imperial crown, made of gold and gleaming silver, inlaid with dozens of the most precious gemstones and hundreds of slightly lesser glittering stones and clear jade, and slowly placed it on her smooth, neat silver hair.

Finally, there was a heavy and majestic scepter, with an intricate pattern of gold and gemstones inlaid on the steel hammerhead at the top, and a copper awl at the bottom gently resting against a fine Asshal carpet, with fine gold threads intertwined and covering the entire scepter.

It is both a symbol of authority and a ferocious weapon—no less capable than any other weapon of its kind in crushing bones and smashing heads. Its excellent center of gravity, resulting from proper weight distribution, gives it speed and handling far superior to its counterparts.

This is also a reminder that the emperor of an empire can never be a weak man, otherwise he is not qualified to hold the scepter.

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

Clautina looked at her reflection in the mirror, which was as tall as herself—the emperor in the mirror was incredibly majestic, representing the supreme power of the entire empire, making people dare not look directly at him.

This suit of clothing probably isn't much lighter than a regular suit of armor—that's what Tersolius would say if he saw it... The guy who wanted his own armor since he was a child is always very easy to guess.

A slight smile appeared on the emperor's lips, but everyone around him lowered their heads, so no one saw it—or rather, no one could see it.

"Your Majesty, you are ready."

The female official, whose eyes and forehead were lined with wrinkles, was not young, but she was clearly quite trustworthy.

The emperor turned and moved away. Equally ornately dressed servants lifted his large cloak from the ground and escorted him away, allowing him to board a massive carriage, leaving only the servants who were cleaning the place behind.

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The magnificence of this city is beyond words; it makes one wonder if mortals could build such a spectacle—the sheer cliffs made of black rock almost reach the clouds, and the heavy gates are half a meter thick, requiring ten strong oxen to turn the mechanism each time they open or close.

Eagles and falcons circle and soar atop the highest tower, where their nests are located, which is the origin of the city's name—there are always an unusually large number of birds of prey here, and no one knows why.

Moss's horse stopped before the city. The vast and magnificent city before him made even the brave steed halt, snorting uneasily.

The cavalrymen waited silently behind him, their banners fluttering in the wind, their backs straight, proudly facing the city.

Tersolius looked up for a moment, raised his eyebrows slightly, and his warhorse began to stride powerfully toward the already opened city gate.

With a soft shout of men and neighing of horses, a torrent of steel followed behind him, surging towards the city where eagles gathered…

104 Arrival (5)

As he rode through the towering bronze gate, Tersolius was greeted by an endless sea of ​​people.

He was almost certain that everyone in the city had gathered here. The streets were so crowded that everyone was pressed against each other's shoulders and chests, and their breath could push the hair on the back of the head of the person in front of them.

All kinds of clothes, all kinds of colors, all kinds of materials, were soaked with sweat seeping from the skin, and the hot air currents gathered together, causing the air to ripple.

The crowd was whispering, like the murmur of a swarm of bees in a fit of rage. No one could make out what they were saying, but the sound was everywhere and pervasive.

They maintained a certain degree of order, not encroaching on the wide street in front of them, but it was constantly fluctuating and changing. Every now and then, someone would suddenly raise their voice and shout, which would then attract others to argue with them.