Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Those who stand here may be slow-witted or foolish in other ways, but they will never be confused about military matters; almost everyone understands the meaning of their ruler.

“Once we capture Fariaburg, we can cut off the road, and these Kurist bastards' retreat back to the steppe will be in our hands. Let's see what they do then!”

Alka, his grin practically reaching his ears, slammed his fist on the table. Realizing his lapse in composure, he sheepishly withdrew his hand, though he couldn't hide his excitement.

"Furthermore, Fariaburg hasn't sent any news yet, so it might still be in our hands. That would make things even easier! We'll keep these barbarians completely locked up in Cerisonas, and none of them will be able to escape!"

Yuriedos was just as excited as Arka, except he didn't smash the table. Although his tribe had also been Kurist people in the past, he could still call them barbarians with ease. Nomadic tribes within the empire's borders had been recognized by the state and were legitimate citizens of the empire. They lived much better than those poor relatives who were not even remotely related to them, and no one would respect those guys who herded sheep on the withered grass.

In just one generation, their lifestyle has become very different from that of the Kurist people in the East. Although they still live by herding, they have begun to learn to farm, and their clothes are now made of soft and comfortable cotton and linen, no longer the dirty and stiff sheepskin robes.

They pay taxes to the country just like ordinary imperial citizens, and they also send able-bodied men to participate in war mobilizations, so no one has the right to say that they are not imperial citizens.

………………

Most people were enthusiastic, believing there was great potential, while a smaller, more composed group considered another possibility. But before they could voice their thoughts, Tersolius spoke first:

"The Khan of the Kurist people wouldn't be so foolish as to let us cut off his retreat. If he had realized this, he would already be preparing to withdraw his troops... He wouldn't risk being surrounded by us; the most likely outcome is that the Kurist people will be driven out of Cerisonas once again."

The previously heated atmosphere instantly turned cold, and disappointment appeared on almost everyone's face—the proud legions of the Empire were not content with merely driving away the enemy. How could they be satisfied without making the Kurstians pay the price for their burning, killing, and looting here?

Yuriedos was about to volunteer for battle. His 3000-plus light cavalrymen were skilled in pursuit, and even if the Kurist people managed to retreat, they would be in chaos. Perhaps they could even tear off a piece of flesh.

Tersolius had already seen through his thoughts, and after telling the other party to calm down, he continued:

"Of course, I'm not going to let them leave our land unscathed..."

As he spoke, his finger began to move across the map again, this time pointing north:

“If he really wants to withdraw, that’s exactly what I want to see. The Second Northern Army has already been deployed to the vicinity of Mount Usli. If he wants to withdraw, he will be heading down a dead end… unless they can swim across the river.”

“He should have expected what he would encounter from the moment he chose to bring his army to our land.”

His generals erupted in cheers, but before they could even expel their applause, Tersolius continued speaking without stopping.

“But now I have a new guess… The Khan of the Kurist people may have discovered something. Their actions have become hesitant these past two days. Although they are still sending people to harass and delay our movements, there is no sign of a large army advancing. He may have other plans…”

"I just don't know what he'll choose..."

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

A large black bird silently flapped its wings. Like a floating dark cloud, it took off from the top of a large tree and drifted slowly downwards.

Its eyes were as bright as light bulbs, accurately spotting suspicious movements even in the darkness, and immediately identifying prey it could handle—a black and yellow chipmunk munching on tree fruit, its sharp little eyes and agile head scanning the surroundings, its whiskers twitching, and its nose collecting suspicious scents.

The large bird slowly extended its sharp claws hidden under its belly, and even as it tore through the air and landed there, it made no sound. It was about to catch its prey for the night.

One mouse is far from enough to fill its belly; it needs at least 7 to 8 to satisfy its hunger. So this is just the beginning.

With a swift swipe of its claws, a rodent's head was snapped off in the blink of an eye, and the fruit in its claws fell into the haystack.

The large bird returned to the tree, lowered its head, and sucked the mouse in as if it were eating a leaf. Then it resumed its wooden posture, like a black wooden stake.

Tori looked up at the large bird. His guards, thinking he was interested in it, nocked an arrow and tried to shoot it down, but he stopped them with a gesture... He simply watched silently from the sidelines the whole time.

After a long silence, he suddenly spoke:

"Milisa, how much food do we have left?"

"Respected Khan."

A man with a goatee walked over; his skin was much fairer than that of his khan, clearly indicating that he hadn't experienced much sun and wind.

"The chiefs of all the tribes have reported their numbers... Even if we include the cattle and sheep we brought, it will only last for half a month at most... The Imperial villages have been almost completely looted, and we can't find any more food."

"Moreover, this is based on our current garrison position. If we were to mobilize a large army, the food supply would be depleted even faster—we might run out of food in just 10 days, and all our livestock would be eaten."

Torid nodded slightly, showing no surprise whatsoever, and continued to ask:

"Did the chieftains say anything when they reported to you? They must have given you quite a few good things."

! !

The calm words struck like thunder, instantly turning the man with the goatee pale, and he stammered, trying to explain himself.

"Don't be nervous. I didn't mean to blame you. You are my most capable servant. You have done your job very well, so it is not a sin for you to accept the looted wealth... I'm just asking you this question."

Toridu still didn't turn his head, as if the big bird had some kind of magic, never leaving his sight... and the black bird also remained oblivious to the humans below, turning its large face to search for possible prey.

"Your Majesty the Khan! ... The tribal chiefs all believe that we should seize this great opportunity to attack westward, where even greater wealth awaits us."

"is that so……"

A long sigh escaped from the Khan of the Kurist people and drifted silently into the night sky.

127 Curists (5)

His own followers were a pack of hungry wolves... Tori knew this all too well, because he had been one himself.

Every moment, there are countless people plotting to pull me down from this position and trample me underfoot. Although they seem to be gathered here to obey my orders, each of them is only thinking about the wealth and food of the empire's fertile lands. Once I can no longer give them more, these greedy wolves will have even more schemes.

To make them obey your orders, you have to feed them while whipping them hard... This is Torid's simple and unpretentious method of rule, and it has been the same for twenty years.

The fertile lands of Cherisonas have fed them enough; now it's time to whip them hard and teach them a lesson... otherwise, that ferocious lion will tear them to shreds.

By Kurist standards, Torid Khan, who was already considered old, was determined to use bloodshed to bring these loose and complacent tribes back to their senses... Only bloodshed could bring some clarity to their muddled minds.

His gaze remained calm and unwavering. The large black bird in the tree was staring back at him, its bright orange eyes reflecting the moonlight. It would occasionally shake its feathers and shift its position.

"Keeping this beast around can serve as a warning to me."

As if casually giving a word of advice to the guard beside him, Torid turned around and returned to the Khan's tent, where he lifted the mattress and lay down to sleep without even taking off his armor.

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

Chaos suddenly broke out in the Kurist camp. People were running around telling each other about a big event: last night, someone attempted to set fire to the Khan's tent to assassinate him, but was startled by a wild bird in a tree, and all the offenders were captured by the guards.

The men in each tent began to march towards the place where the royal flag was raised. They all sensed that something big was about to happen, and some even instinctively brought their weapons.

By the time the Kurist people gathered before the Khan's battle, they had already formed a sea of ​​heads, jostling each other, their voices clamoring, their dirty sheepskin robes torn open to prevent them from sweating profusely in the sun.

The tribe's nobles and their men arrived faster than anyone else. They had known the news long ago and were aware of what was going on, so they rode their fast horses and charged over.

Right in front of the royal tent was a large open space that no one dared to set foot in. Fully armed guards surrounded the area, and several men with soot-stained leather robes knelt in the middle.

"Isn't that the Qishubu sword?"

Some sharp-eyed people have already noticed the unique patterns on the scabbards of the knives at the waists of these people. Each tribe has its own unique pattern, which is how they distinguish their tribes.

Countless whispers spread quickly, and the head of the Qishu tribe—the tall and thin Luo Liangge—had his face turn dark. His confidants and followers around him instinctively gripped the knives at their waists.

As a sudden chorus of footsteps sounded around them, the Kurist guards, bows drawn and spears drawn, immediately surrounded the Qishu tribe members. Without any attempt at subtlety, they pointed their gleaming blades at them, conveying a bloody message directly.

"Tori's right there! Make him come out and see us!"

Luo Liangge roared desperately and fiercely, and his subordinates around him shouted at the same time:

"We want to see Khan Tolidu! Khan, come out quickly!"

“Even if you want to kill us, Toridu, say it yourself. Don’t hide behind others like a coward!”

"Come out and explain yourself to us!"

"........."

As the people of the Qishu tribe began to shout loudly, the people of Kurist, who were on the verge of a bloodbath, also began to stir. Gradually, some people joined in the shouting, wanting their Khan to explain the matter clearly.

Just as the commotion was growing increasingly apparent and the situation was about to spiral out of control, a voice suddenly rang out from within the crowd:

“I’ve always been by your side, Luo Liangge.”

The voice was so calm, without any extra emotion, like greeting an old friend you'd seen for decades, yet it instantly silenced the shouts around you, causing everyone to instinctively shut their mouths.

Khan Torid stepped out from among the guards with a composed gait. He was not wearing his helmet; his greasy hair, braided into plaits, hung down to his temples, and the leather-trimmed armor rustled.

"What do you mean by this, Toridu! Why have my tribe surrounded? Do you intend to annex us in front of everyone?! Did you bring the Kurist people here just so we can kill each other?!"

"You know it."

Tori didn't stop, walking straight up to the group of people kneeling on the ground. He then grabbed the leader by the hair, revealing his face.

“This is one of your men; I think you all know him.”

Luo Liangge was suddenly rendered speechless, as if someone had grabbed him by the throat—he had initially thought this was just a scapegoat that Toridu had randomly chosen to frame him, slaughtering all his men before anyone could react, giving him no chance to reason… but he never expected that these were actually his own subordinates!

His confidants immediately erupted in uproar, with many even looking at him with suspicion—at this moment, quite a few already believed that the assassination squad had indeed been sent out by him.

"When I assembled the army, your Qishu tribe made excuses and delayed my orders. When you were plundering the empire's lands, you disregarded my orders and ran off to the west of Cerisonas. And now! You dare to send your men to try and burn me alive in the main tent. Are you really so ignorant of death?!"

With the Khan's roar, all the guards drew their swords, and more soldiers surrounded them with weapons. In the blink of an eye, blood would be everywhere.

Tori waved his hand expressionlessly:

"You've opposed me time and again, and now you're trying to kill me. Even the most merciful person wouldn't forgive you! ... Do it!"

Before he could offer any explanation, accompanied by the muffled thuds of spears and swords piercing flesh and the whistling of arrows flying everywhere, a complete massacre unfolded before the Khan's royal tent. The well-prepared elite guards quickly slaughtered all the Qishu tribesmen there.

Blood flowed out, soaking the grass; steaming entrails spilled onto the ground; screams and pleas for mercy echoed one after another. It was a chilling sight.

All the tribal nobles fell silent, carefully restraining their followers, and in the blink of an eye, they became as submissive as sheep... completely devoid of their previous arrogance.

The people of the Qishu tribe may or may not have assassinated the Khan... but no one cares now. As long as this man still has power and authority, then even if this is a lie, it is true.

Conversely, if the Qishu tribe is powerful enough, then even if this matter is true, it can be made to appear false... Every nobleman in every tribe understands this.

………………

In an instant, the horns sounded. The nobles gathered once more in the royal tent, their feet stained with blood, yet their expressions remained unchanged, as if hundreds had not been slaughtered before the tent entrance…

The Kurist people are fierce and cruel, and their cruelty is never directed only at other peoples... Bloody massacres like this happen every year on the steppe, and most people have become accustomed to it and take it for granted.

One corner of the Khan's massive tent, made of white wool felt, was charred black. The highly flammable wool felt had been burned through, leaving a huge hole about three meters wide, allowing sunlight to stream in.

Those with sharp eyes quickly noticed that the burned section was precisely where the Khan usually rested... This made the nobles even more horrified, and for a moment, there was a sense of order and order.

Torid lifted the curtain and strode in, passing through the gathered nobles, before sitting down in the chair in the center of the tent—a chair that had come from the south and was just becoming popular on the plains of the Kurist people, where it was welcomed by many nobles.

"I won't waste any more words. Those of you who are smart enough can see that... we can't stay here any longer. We have to go back immediately, or we won't be able to leave."

A low murmur arose within the tent, but before they could utter a word, Tori continued speaking relentlessly:

“This time, every tribe of ours has reaped great rewards. There is nothing more on this land worth risking our lives for. This country is not weak and easy to bully. If it weren’t for the betrayal of the Iris, we wouldn’t even have this opportunity.”

"But the Empire has already realized that staying here is suicide... Once we get back, we must pack our bags, feed our warhorses, slaughter all the livestock, and throw away anything useless. This time, our opponent is that Tersolius... If we can't keep up, we deserve to die."

“What about those Iris people?…”

The nobleman sitting to his left asked hesitantly.

"Then it depends on their own luck and ability... We have already accomplished what we promised to do by clearing this land. As for how to deal with the imperial army, let them figure it out themselves."

A burst of laughter erupted, and almost everyone beamed with joy. But the distinguished person who had asked the question earlier seemed unwilling to give up and continued to ask:

“Your Majesty, what I mean is… these Iris people are quite wealthy, and they looted quite a lot this time. Should we rob them too? That way we can prepare coals for the winter.”

Another burst of laughter rang out, but many nobles also revealed greedy looks in their eyes—the Iris who launched the rebellion in Chersonas had made a fortune, which they all envied greatly. If they had the chance to take advantage of it, these nobles of Kurist would not hesitate at all.

A slight smile appeared on Torid's lips. He twirled his mustache with his fingers, and after a long while, he spoke:

"Let's leave it this time. If we don't leave now, the Imperial Legion will surround this place. There's no need to risk our lives for this little bit of stuff. Let them keep these valuables. When the Imperial General arrives, these Iris people can at least buy themselves a second life... maybe even half a life."

The uproarious laughter nearly lifted the tents off their roofs, with many people even slapping their thighs in laughter. But soon some people realized that there seemed to be a very wealthy Iris in the camp... They exchanged glances in twos and threes, and immediately made up their minds.

Tori frowned, but ultimately said nothing—it was a potential problem, and it was better to get rid of it.

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

The weapon in his hand was exquisitely crafted; the smooth, warm red oak was polished into a long handle, a brass buttstock balanced the weight, and the steel-forged axe blade, spearhead, and hook gleamed with a cold light.

.

This is a powerful halberd with a sharp axe blade, a spearhead, and an armor-piercing spike for hooking and catching cavalry. Although its center of gravity is too far forward and requires more strength to control, once mastered, it can easily unleash terrifying power.

Tersolius tentatively swung the halberd in his hand, constantly adjusting the angle of his wrist to adapt to the center of gravity of the weapon.

His movements were somewhat clumsy at first, but they quickly became proficient. Thrusting, chopping, hooking, pecking, picking... every movement became refined. The wielding blade brought gusts of wind, sweeping across the surrounding space almost non-stop.

His movements became faster and faster until they became impossible to see clearly. All that could be seen were the afterimages of steel, like several silver snakes circling around him, hissing and ready to devour anyone who might approach him.

As he slightly turned his feet, the halberd blade, carrying a fierce wind, slashed horizontally from the side, then came to a steady stop, without any residual movement, only stirring up a cloud of dust on the ground.

Gently placing the long pole on the ground, Tersolius raised his eyebrows without batting an eye, feeling as if all the bones in his body had loosened up considerably—he had been riding a horse for the past two days, and even he was a little stiff.

After stretching his shoulders, Thesolius tossed his halberd to a soldier beside him, then opened the tent flap and went outside, only to find that it was already a star-studded night.

He spent a long time getting used to this weapon with a high barrier to entry, and before he knew it, he was addicted to it. Unless something important happened, no one dared to bother him, so he kept playing with it until midnight.