Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The archer officers had already measured the distance, and the archers, who had been taking turns resting, were all full of energy. Now, at the officers' command, they began to raise their powerful crossbows, draw their bows, and wait for the order to fire.

When the endless cavalry, like a dark cloud, reached within range, the assembled Imperial archers finally began to exert their full strength for the first time today. A thin black cloud flew into the sky, covering the distance until it fell into the surging tide, splashing up blood and corpses before falling silent, without even causing the tide to pause for a moment.

But then, the few arrows that had been flying off turned into a terrible storm, relentlessly washing over the surging tide and carrying with them piles of blood and corpses.

The Imperial Legion's arrow reserves finally began to run out rapidly. The auxiliary soldiers transported bundles of arrows and crossbow bolts to the ranks of the archers, and then watched helplessly as these sharp arrows were shot into the sky.

In the blink of an eye, the Kurist people had suffered more losses than they had in the entire morning. Horses fell one after another after being shot down by arrows, and Kurist men on horseback fell like wheat being harvested. Even though they tried to keep their distance, they still had little effect against the dense and terrifying rain of arrows.

The bows they carried were of varying quality and their range was far inferior to that of crossbows and foot bows, so they could only suffer terrible casualties and wait for the enemy to enter their firing range.

The continuous deaths of men and horses caused their speed to slow down involuntarily, but in this short burst of speed, the speed of warhorses was ultimately beyond the reach of humans, and they still managed to get close enough for their arrows to reach them.

Without any orders, every Kurist began to desperately draw their bows and shoot arrows. The arrows fired by tens of thousands of people at the same time truly covered the ground like a torrential rain.

With such a terrifying number of soldiers, cries of agony rose from the fully armed Imperial Legion as the dead and wounded increased, and chaos inevitably broke out in the ranks.

In the blink of an eye, a layer of white arrow feathers sprouted from the open ground around the legion, densely packed and visible everywhere, and continued to grow at a visible rate.

As the Kurist warriors galloped across the plains, some would occasionally stumble and fall, swallowed by the rolling hooves of their horses and never to be seen again… But they finally broke through the area and could clearly see the expressions on the faces of the heavily armored legionary soldiers.

But they didn't see what they wanted to see... The legion remained unshaken and was retreating in an orderly fashion, revealing what was hidden behind them—spiked barricades made of thick wooden stakes bound together.

The imperial legions always carried these wooden stakes when marching, both ends of which were sharpened to prevent the enemy from climbing after being buried in the ground. They could also be bundled together in groups of three with thick ropes to make an effective and simple barricade.

Having no other choice, the Kurist men gritted their teeth and charged forward. Many were still instinctively drawing their bows, unaware that they had run out of arrows. The vanguard of Kurist men smashed into the defensive line. The chevaux-de-frise slowed their advance, the spears stopped their horses, and the swinging axes and various heavy weapons tore them to pieces—in the blink of an eye, they were in a state of slaughter. Facing these well-prepared elite heavy infantry, they had almost no power to resist.

But the attacking Kurists were simply too numerous. Even the spiked barricades were overwhelmed in the blink of an eye, and the Imperial Legion's defensive line began to retreat involuntarily, with many legion soldiers being trampled under the hooves of horses.

With that momentary impact, the Kurist finally shook the Imperial Legion's morale, causing the entire defensive line to begin to fluctuate.

Arrows from both sides continued to crisscross the air, bringing wave after wave of death; casualties reached their peak at this moment.

The Khan of the Kurist tribe charged the deepest, and his elite guards had indeed opened a breach in the defensive line, and were trying to widen it. The heavy and ornate banner fluttered in the gale, and all the Kurist people subconsciously followed in their Khan's footsteps.

The battle has officially entered its most intense phase...

130 Iron Cavalry

The grasslands here are so lush and vibrant. The alfalfa, with its tiny flowers, grows densely yet orderly; this grass grows extremely fast and is rich in nutrients, making it excellent fodder for warhorses. Every spring, the horse breeders of Cerriisonas specially sow superior alfalfa seeds to provide food for the fine horses raised on this land.

Other grasses and weeds were mixed in with the alfalfa, occupying every inch of the land and not exposing any of the soil's grayish-brown color. As far as the eye could see, it was a vast expanse of emerald green, stretching to the horizon. When a breeze blew, the grass blades rippled like the surface of water. If the sun was out, this dark emerald green would turn into a bright, vibrant green, with a few drops of morning dew still remaining, occasionally shimmering with a faint, bright light.

It's such a beautiful sight, it's just a pity that the main event here now is war...

As the Kurist army pressed forward, a sigh of joy rippled through the Imperial legions—it would have been a real headache for the soldiers if these cunning barbarians had kept circling around them. The Imperial legions were strong and resilient; they excelled at crushing their opponents head-on and never feared any challenge. Their discipline and superior equipment made them invincible, and their thirst for glory fueled their frenzied battle.

The thunderous, overwhelming sound of hooves terrified many soldiers, but as long as they looked at the steel forest they were in, courage would return to their hearts, allowing them to grip their spears tightly, raise their shields firmly, and steady their steps to meet the coming onslaught.

Arrows rained down from behind them, slowing the Kurist men's momentum. But they still charged forward—the terrifying force of the cavalry broke their formation, and the Imperial Legion's morale crumbled. The resilient soldiers involuntarily retreated, desperately using their weapons to kill the attacking enemies.

In that instant, the Kurist people almost thought they had succeeded, that the Imperial formation would be broken... but in a flash they realized something was wrong. The defensive line seemed like it could be breached, yet it remained incredibly resilient, like a thick swamp draining their strength. Dazzling steel, gleaming blades, and thrusting spears were everywhere.

Those axes and halberds that flew up and down possessed terrifying power. Although the Kurist people had some ability to smelt iron ore, their number of craftsmen was small, and even the fuel used for smelting iron ore was very limited. Therefore, only the nobles of the tribe and their confidants could have full sets of iron armor. Most herders could only manage to get some iron pieces mixed in with their leather armor... A full set of iron armor might not even be worth a hundred sheep.

Such a defense was fine for dealing with light arrows and cleavers, but it became laughable in the face of these terrifying heavy weapons... As a result, the legion's defensive line seemed to be compressed and retreated, but the losses of the Kurist were increasing rapidly. The dead had filled the Imperial Legion's position, and the huge bodies of the slain warhorses were still struggling, splattering hot blood everywhere.

Coupled with the dense barrage of arrows raining down from the hillside, every minute, every second, hordes of Kurist men fell like wheat being harvested, their arrows already exhausted… yet the well-funded Imperial legions continued to fire deadly arrows relentlessly. They seemed to have an opportunity, but suffered heavy losses, being slaughtered indiscriminately.

The only exception was the heavily armored cavalry led by the Khan and the tribal nobles... These guards, clad in fine iron armor, truly put the legionary soldiers in a fierce battle and successfully tore a gap in the defensive line. All the Kurist people swarmed towards this place like flies that have seen blood, completely disregarding the gleaming swords, spears, and sharp arrows.

This seemed like a shortcut to victory… but they all knew it was also a path to death. Legionnaires swarmed towards them, and the flanks of the formation suddenly transformed – the Imperial Legion, outnumbered, actually attempted to encircle the approaching Kurist! The breach instantly became a terrifying hell, silver armor dominating every corner. Each Kurist heavy cavalryman faced attacks from five or six men simultaneously, their armor pierced and them swiftly slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

Blood, sweat, flowing brain matter, overflowing entrails... these terrifying and horrifying things are now piled up on this land. The roars of tens of thousands of people, the murderous intent of tens of thousands of people, and the lives of tens of thousands of people are all entangled here, and are being consumed at a rapid pace.

There is no place for cowards here. Everyone who sets foot on this battlefield has the corresponding determination. They are destined to use their will, their blood, and their efforts to cultivate the flower of victory that belongs to them.

The Imperial light cavalry finally moved. The Kurist were already trapped in the enemy's formation, and the cavalrymen moved like a red ribbon around the enemy's rear.

As they ran, these skilled archers drew their bows and unleashed volleys of arrows at the Kurists who had their backs to them, throwing the enemy's rear guard into chaos.

This is the most terrifying and crucial step... Once these light cavalry have completed their encirclement, even if the Kurists want to escape, they will be blocked, harassed, and slowed down... These exhausted enemies will no longer be able to utilize their mobility advantage, and the Imperial legions will achieve a glorious victory, not only defeating the enemy but also annihilating them as a whole.

Tersolius's appetite has always been astonishing... He never intended to let go of these enemies who harassed the land.

His pride, his honor, his rage, and his will would not allow these enemies who had committed such crimes in this country to leave before paying a price that satisfied him. They had to be piled up like mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, so that vultures and coyotes would be full before he would be satisfied and before he would temporarily forgive these enemies.

Even though the Kurist people had already suffered extremely heavy losses, their corpses piled up all over the grassland, he still felt it wasn't enough, he was still dissatisfied... He wanted to completely destroy these troublesome enemies—by using the cage woven by their own greed to do so.

The light cavalry had finally outflanked the Kurists from the rear, and it seemed that the battle was over.

But at that moment, tens of thousands of exclamations erupted simultaneously from tens of thousands of mouths—the Kurist people, who had been engaged in a bloody battle, suddenly turned and fled. Even the heavily armored cavalrymen around the Khan, who had already suffered heavy losses, turned their horses around as well, ignoring the gleaming blades around them, and desperately fled backwards despite the terrible losses.

They came with great force, and they fled without the slightest hesitation. They whipped their warhorses frantically, and even in such chaos, they managed to maintain basic order, preventing a large-scale stampede. Like a swarm of worms emerging from the sand, they began to retreat rapidly.

In the process, they naturally suffered heavy casualties; the relentless arrows caused them to disappear in swathes, like fields of fallen wheat. The order to retreat left their backs completely exposed to the Imperial legions, and the Imperials showed no mercy, seizing the opportunity to desperately hold back as many Kurist people as possible who were trying to escape.

The armor-piercing spikes on the back of the halberd could easily pull cavalrymen off their horses. What followed was a hail of blades and flying hammers, leaving only mangled corpses behind. Rotten flesh seeped out from the gaps in the chainmail. The warhorses on the grassland were terrified and almost went mad, but before they could even kick their hooves, they were stabbed down by soldiers with bloodshot eyes.

Simply by pulling their troops out of the Imperial Legion, the Kurist army was stripped bare, leaving behind only raw flesh and bones...

Just when everyone thought the Kurist people would scatter and flee, the magnificent banner, the Khan's royal standard, suddenly charged again. Thousands of horns sounded in unison, summoning the fierce Kurist warriors. And their target... was the light cavalry that had just circled around to their rear!

The Khan of the Curists never forgot their true purpose! They were trying to survive, and these light cavalrymen were the biggest threat on their escape route! Exhausted and worn out, the Curists could not shake off their pursuers... So, in that instant of retreat, the Khan of the Curists made a decisive move, sounding the horn once more, intending to use their numerical superiority to overwhelm the threats blocking their escape route.

But how many Kurist people could still maintain their courage? How many warriors were still willing to step into the bloody battlefield again? ... At least half of the Kurist people completely ignored the Khan's call. They scattered like bees in a shattered hive, and in the blink of an eye, they broke into countless small groups and fled in all directions.

But they retained most of their senses and did not flee into the heart of the empire—that would be certain death. After escaping the battlefield, they began swarming towards the shallows, stripping off their armor, discarding their most prized possessions, and removing anything that would slow them before spurring their horses into the shallows, whipping them relentlessly. Their attempt to cross the pebbly shallows created countless splashes.

These Kurist people are not only exceptionally fierce, but also clever in protecting their lives—once they decide to escape, they run with unwavering resolve, discarding everything they previously hesitated to leave behind without batting an eye, all for the sake of survival, without any unnecessary hesitation or foolish indecision.

The number of warriors they could muster vanished in an instant, more than half gone. While the surrounding guards were seething with rage, the Khan of the Kurist merely smiled calmly. This weathered old wolf even looked at the fleeing Kurist warriors with a hopeful gaze:

"That's good, that's good... Maybe more of them will survive. With each one they return, one tent on our land will no longer be crying. Perhaps this outcome is better than I expected."

As soon as he finished speaking, Toridu, his helmet dented and face smeared with blood, calmly raised his lance from beside his saddle. Without turning back, he drove the Kurist men who were willing to follow him onward, charging towards the Imperial light cavalry clad in red cloaks. He vowed to overwhelm them…

These Kurists who were willing to follow him were perhaps blinded by rage and didn't react in time, or perhaps they were already used to following his banner, or perhaps they had become confused and didn't know where to go... and during this process, some of them continued to scatter and flee, but at least at this time, their numbers far exceeded those of the light cavalry that were blocking their way.

The Kurist wolf, its leg broken, seemed poised to bite off the hunter's hand in a final desperate struggle... but Terthorius knew they couldn't succeed.

The armored cavalry had already formed their ranks. Their formation was so orderly that the upright spears formed a sharp forest of spears, the steel tips of which gleamed with a blinding cold light. The warhorses beneath them, covered in iron scales, looked like beasts from some mythology, exuding a ferocity and majesty that did not belong to humankind.

The legionary soldiers began to clear a path, dragging away their wounded and fallen comrades and clearing away the mountains of enemy corpses, creating a wide road in the army's ranks, a road soaked in blood and death—a smooth path for their accelerated charge.

Thesolius still drove his warhorse to stand at the very front of the procession, as if it were the most natural and irresistible thing in the world, as if he were born to be extraordinary and powerful.

Arka carried the large black banner on his back, the standard-bearer ready to defend its glory with everything he had. As the trumpeters sounded their horns and the heavy war drums pounded, the black double-headed eagle banner finally moved forward, leading the armored cavalry in an unstoppable, earth-shattering charge.

The cavalry's iron hooves trampled the earth, and they were about to launch a massacre and ravage. As the distance shortened and time passed, their speed increased. After a whole morning of rest and recuperation, these precious warhorses were finally about to unleash their terrifying advantage.

The next moment, with the dense screech of armor scraping against armor, cavalry emerged from the billowing dust! ...

131 Victory

Cataphracts appeared on this land for a very short time. Before that, no one had ever imagined that cavalry could be like this—encasing warhorses and knights in incredibly heavy steel, bringing the most ferocious impact and the most terrifying defense, capable of tearing infantry formations to shreds like paper. To stop these steel monsters, only a large number of lives could be sacrificed, and only heavy casualties could possibly be achieved.

No one dared to face their might directly. Anyone would crumble under the fierce charge of the armored cavalry. They brought the cavalry's impact to its extreme and the deterrent power of this type of soldier to its fullest extent. Just seeing them appear on the battlefield from afar was enough to terrify the enemy and demoralize them.

The Curists had no experience dealing with such an opponent. Their northern neighbors had experienced this firsthand. In that unprecedented invasion by the Kiel, the world witnessed for the first time the terrifying power of armored cavalry. The terrible cries of the Kiel's central army, which was being ravaged, terrified the Kiel Khan. In the ensuing rout, he no longer had the courage to fight back. Even after being beheaded by Tersolius, he dared not look back on his escape route.

The superior warhorses bred by the Imperial Livestock Bureau further enhanced this formidable force. These magnificent creatures, whose speed and endurance far surpassed that of ordinary horses, would not easily stop once they started carrying cavalry, destined to leave their iron hooves stained with blood.

Their mounts tore through the air, and the cavalrymen grew faster and faster, like gods striking the earth with their hammers, creating a sound and vibration that shook mountains. The sound of iron scales rubbing together and the neighing of warhorses contrasted sharply with the silence of the cavalrymen... Such a terrifying commotion immediately attracted the attention of the Kurist people, and their originally resolute charge became slow. Countless people turned back to look with panicked expressions.

Tumbling dust rose from beneath the iron hooves of the warhorses, yet it could not stain their magnificent steel armor. A crack appeared in the dark clouds above, letting bright sunlight stream onto the grass, and they flashed through it. The gleaming steel under the sunlight seemed to possess a divine quality, as if the cavalrymen had descended from the clouds to this world.

Yuriedos let out a sneer. He had shown no intention of making contact with the enemy before him. As the horn sounded, the light cavalry immediately fled into the distance, turning and firing arrows as they ran. A barrage of arrows rained down on the heads of the pursuing Kurist men, exhausting their stamina and causing their already weary warhorses to foam at the mouth... all for this moment!

As the armored cavalry charged with terrifying force, the Kurist men, who had just attempted to annihilate the light cavalry, hesitated. Though only for a moment, Euryedos seized the opportunity precisely. With the sound of horns, the light cavalrymen hung their bows on their saddles, raised their lances, and in an instant turned their horses around, launching a counter-charge against the pursuing enemy! After paying some price, they completely halted the remaining Kurist remnants.

Torid looked at the armored cavalry charging towards them with an almost incredulous gaze. He had never imagined that the charge of these mere 1000 cavalrymen could be so terrifying! It was as if thunder and storm were rolling towards them. The warhorses beneath them were already terrified, trying to break free of their control, and they were so fast that they were almost within arm's reach in the blink of an eye!

Already exhausted, the Kurist troops, overtaken from behind, were powerless to resist and were mercilessly slashed through by the armored cavalry. Countless spears pierced flesh and broke bones. Countless maces and swords smashed heads and sliced ​​open chests! In the blink of an eye, the remaining Kurist troops were torn to pieces, their last struggle utterly crushed. A bloody and brutal cavalry melee unfolded in the blink of an eye.

The Kurist people, torn apart and fragmented, were plunged into a horrific massacre... except this time, unlike before, they were the ones being slaughtered.

Swarms of corpses were being efficiently produced. Hearts that had once beaten, brains that had once thought, and internal organs that had once worked were all exposed to the sunlight. The cavalrymen's armor was quickly stained crimson, and even their warhorses were covered in a thick layer of blood. In the unbridled slaughter, everyone was mercilessly killing the terrified enemy.

The light cavalry of Euryedos were giving it their all. They no longer sought to kill, but merely hindered those who tried to escape, while the armored cavalry swept through the Kurist people, leaving behind wave after wave of severed limbs and a bloodbath, annihilating the Empire's enemies with remarkable efficiency.

Tersolius's objective was clear from the start; the conspicuous Khan's banner never left his sight, and his sturdy, sharp spear flashed in his hand. One by one, the Kurist guards who tried to stop him were killed, and in the blink of an eye, he had slain more than a dozen.

He was like the sharpest tip of a spear, tearing through all obstacles without hindrance. With his sturdy armor, superb martial arts, and terrifying courage, he was invincible, resolutely leading his cavalry to hunt the most valuable prey...

The Kurist people were plunged into utter chaos and panic. No one had the courage to face the Imperial cavalry anymore. Everywhere, nobles abandoned their armor and possessions. In order to escape as quickly as possible, they ruthlessly swung their swords at their own kind who blocked their way. The Kurist people trying to escape were crowded together. Overturned warhorses and twisted limbs were everywhere. Everyone was cursing and tearing at each other, having lost all reason and acting only on instinct.

The battle raged from dawn till afternoon, but never before had it caused so many casualties. Horrible stampedes erupted one after another, and everyone who tried to escape was caught in a terrible vortex, losing their lives in the blink of an eye under countless hooves and feet. Among the twisted flesh and blood, the wounded screamed and clung to life, trying to crawl out of the terrible hell.

After countless deaths, the surviving Kurist people finally fled to distant lands. They began to desperately cross the river through the shallows, each one filled with fear and despair, desperately trying to escape the carnage behind them. They no longer cared about their swords, their armor, or the wealth they had plundered.

As the longsword in his hand swung down, the banner of the Kurist Khan fell into the hands of Tesolius, but he did not find the legendary Khan—or rather, no one could tell whether he was among the corpses scattered all over the ground… The grassland was littered with mutilated corpses and dead warhorses, as if a terrible plague had swept through, with only death and bloodshed lingering here.

The legionary soldiers had begun clearing the battlefield, using their spears to turn over the corpses and pierce anything that was still moving or howling. The still-living warhorses were a valuable asset, and these precious beasts were gathered together by their reins, soon forming a large herd.

The blood spilled on the grass hadn't even cooled completely when Euryedos, following the pre-war plan, began sending his light cavalry to hunt down the fleeing enemy and further expand the already terrifying victory—even without a careful count, the number of Kurist dead here would not be less than seven thousand, not to mention those wounded… The summer heat and harsh environment would cause their wounds to become infected quickly, and with the light cavalry still chasing the fleeing enemy, the final result would certainly be extremely fruitful… perhaps even comparable to their great victory in the north.

Soaked in blood, Tersolius exuded a terrifying aura, even his mount, Mos, resembled a bloodthirsty beast, making him unapproachable. A long, slender steel spear rested in his right hand, while his left hand held aloft the banner of the Kurist Khan, its long tassels and plumes swaying in the wind. As if a switch had been flipped, a deafening roar of cheers shook the entire grassland, bending the swaying blades of grass to the ground.

The legionary soldiers, their armor stained with blood, raised their weapons and cheered wildly, their frenzied shouts reaching the heavens. Many pounded their shields and pounded their swords, desperately trying to vent their excitement. Many throats became hoarse. Officers and soldiers alike were equally fervent. In this blood-soaked battlefield, they shouted in unison one name:

"Tesolius! Tesolius!! Tesolius!..."

The dark clouds in the sky were gradually breaking apart, and more and more sunlight was shining through. However, the original golden color was mixed with a hint of scarlet, making the stench of the ground indistinct and obscuring the origin of the blood-red hue...

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After a glorious victory, even the victor must bear certain responsibilities—especially when the victory takes place on their own soil, in which case it is even more unavoidable.

Even in the darkness of night, the soldiers lit torches and worked through the night to deal with the mountains of corpses piled up on the grassland. These torches, made of sticky cloth soaked in animal fat and buried in the ground, could burn for a long time, and dozens or even hundreds of them together were enough to illuminate a large area.

In the darkness, scattered lights appeared all around. One after another, shrill and strange wails echoed, sending chills down one's spine—these were not the sounds of those who were not yet dead or the resentful spirits of the dead, but rather the voices of carnivorous animals drawn by the smell of blood.

None of these bloodthirsty creatures would miss this feast. Wolves, coyotes, foxes, badgers... all kinds of creatures, big and small, carnivorous or scavenging, gathered around the carcass, tearing at the fresh flesh. Every now and then, they would call out to their companions with strange cries, their eyes flashing and moving like two fireflies in the night sky. Anyone caught off guard would surely be startled.

With so many corpses, including countless warhorses and men, the decomposition of the bodies by nature alone, without the presence of a large army to handle them, would have resulted in rampant decay, a stench, and the proliferation of germs. The plague of this era was considered an incurable natural disaster, so Tersolius never relaxed his efforts. Under his orders, the exhausted soldiers began working through the night to process the corpses.

Such an order might sound inhumane, but it was the height of summer. The corpses would decompose in just a few hours, and within a day or two, swarms of flies and all sorts of carrion would gather. No one dared gamble on whether a terrible bacterium would develop during this time, potentially brewing a plague far more horrific than war and swords… so no one dared to neglect these corpses.

More than a dozen truckloads of quicklime have been transported from nearby cities. This is currently the only disinfectant that can be obtained in large quantities. Every time a layer of neatly arranged corpses is thrown into the deep pit dug in the grass, a thick layer of quicklime is sprinkled on top. Perhaps next year the plants here will grow exceptionally lush and vibrant, and the soil will become even more fertile.

Some corpses were piled up, and large bottles of kerosene were poured on them. As the torches were lit, the eerie smell of burning flesh and blood filled everyone's noses. Some of the toughest soldiers in the legion, who had never felt fear even on the battlefield where blood and flesh were flying everywhere, vomited under these circumstances, but no one laughed at them.

As the crater was filled and the bodies were burned to ashes, the dawn of the second day arrived. A purple glow spread across the sky, and soon other vibrant colors would appear on the horizon, marking the arrival of a new day. The earth had returned to its previous state, except for the bare lawns that had been affected by the disaster, which were completely devoid of grass.

The legionary soldiers gathered by the river and began washing their armor, clothing, and the bloodstains on their bodies. The blackened scabs soaked in the water seeped out bloodstains that looked like silk. Many people's hair and beards were stained with blood. Both rivers were briefly dyed red in this section, just like the lined clothes the soldiers were washing. However, the color would gradually fade downstream until it disappeared completely, leaving no trace of blood.

132 Postscript (1)

On the open ground beside the battlefield, countless large pots were simmering something. But the aroma emanating from them was not that of food—even though every soldier in the army was starving, they were only eating the hard biscuits they carried with them and drinking the remaining water from their canteens, without rushing to cook anything else in their own pots.

The herbs were still brought from nearby cities and villages by cart, and boiled in a certain proportion in a pot. The smell was pungent and unpleasant, causing many soldiers, accustomed to the stench of blood, to wrinkle their noses. However, they would not disobey any military orders and gritted their teeth to drink it down. But many were worried about how to cook anything else in their large pots...

The light cavalry, who went to pursue the fleeing enemy, had a great success. They chased them for hundreds of miles into the territory of the Kurist people, killing countless people along the way, until they encountered large-scale resistance and had to retreat. No fewer than 3000 Kurist people died in their pursuit.

Adding to yesterday's gains and the scattered Kurist dead found along the roads, the Kurist army has suffered over 50% casualties, with more than 2000 captured. Considering the expected deaths of the wounded, it's fair to say that this nation, which has been relentlessly harassing the east of the empire, has had its backbone broken, and will likely never be able to rebuild such an army again for at least the next decade or so.

Euryedos played a significant role in the light cavalry's success. He and his soldiers were familiar with the steppe and were always able to find the places where the Kurist people gathered. They would then launch swift attacks, catching the enemy off guard and taking down most of them. They would then continue to expand their gains without stopping, searching every water source and every hill where they could hide.

The entire city of Cherisonas is now a wasteland. At least nine towns and villages have been destroyed and looted, and most of this wealth has ended up in the hands of the Kurist people. The Kurist people who fled yesterday’s battle have abandoned countless riches, partly to lighten their load and escape faster, and partly to delay the pursuers and buy themselves a chance to survive… but none of these efforts have worked.

The spoils were collected by designated personnel, while most of the light cavalry relentlessly pursued the fleeing Kurists, giving them no chance to catch their breath. In the brief and bloody battles, the well-equipped light cavalry always emerged victorious, reaping great rewards and glory while also collecting all the discarded spoils.

The only thing that displeased these proud and fierce soldiers was that they had not found the Khan of the Kurist among the corpses. All the bodies clad in magnificent armor were identified by the prisoners of war, but ultimately to no avail. If the Khan hadn't been trampled to a pulp by his warhorses, they could only assume that he had escaped.

But a Khan who has suffered such a crushing defeat, a Khan who has even abandoned his own banner and soldiers, will face a slim chance of survival even if he returns to the steppe. This one battle alone will plunge the entire Kurist into a catastrophe. Countless people will harbor hatred towards him, and countless old enemies will take this opportunity to exact revenge. If he is unlucky, his tribe may even be completely wiped out on the steppe.

Compared to their gains, their losses were negligible, but the number of wounded was considerable. After all, while the overwhelming rain of arrows from the Kuristians was unlikely to seriously injure the heavily armored legionary soldiers, all sorts of minor and slight wounds were everywhere. Most people recovered after treatment, but there were always unlucky ones who would become infected and eventually develop gangrene, or even lose their lives, especially as the weather was getting hotter. Therefore, most of the wounded still received treatment, even if their wounds were not deep.

After their victory, the legion moved away from the battlefield, leaving the burial ground to be overrun by mosquitoes and carrion. They then set up camp in a wide area near a water source and waited for more than ten days without finding any signs of disease. Only then did Tersolius feel relieved.

News from other parts of the province kept reaching him during this period, and the ripples caused by the great victory had spread throughout the entire empire. Of the four legions that were transferred, three of them were just bystanders from beginning to end and did not participate in the final battle at all. This naturally caused a lot of dissatisfaction, since although they also shared some credit, it was far from comparable to the two legions led by Tersolius.

The rewards and promotions following the war went without saying; the emperor's commendation arrived within days. If it weren't for the fact that the rebellion in this province hadn't been completely quelled, he should have returned to the capital.

Only now did Tersolius finally decide to meet with the governor of Cerisonas—a nobleman who had clearly sided with the Senate since the emperor's ascension to the throne—and also to verify some of his own suspicions.

After thoroughly investigating the entire province, he realized a problem: the Iris people had been smuggling large quantities of contraband armor and weapons to the Kurist people, and the amount was so enormous. As governor, how could Frederini have been completely unaware of this? If he had been aware, why had he never reported a single word about it? And why had he clearly taken no measures to curb it, allowing the smuggling to grow on a larger scale... Later, it even began to involve large-scale smuggling of armor—even during the most chaotic and disorderly period of the empire, this was a shocking case.

Or was this smuggling something he tacitly approved of? Or perhaps he even secretly encouraged and protected it, allowing it to grow to such a large scale? ... This is not impossible. Although the provincial governors of the empire are not appointed for life and are replaced every five years, there have always been governors who secretly amassed power, engaged in corruption, and even instigated rebellions.

With this in mind, after receiving the emperor's reply, Tersolius finally ordered his army to break camp and head towards Pelidos, the capital city of Cerisonas... In any case, the province is now a wasteland, the empire's plans over the years have been destroyed, and the situation is in complete disarray. This governor must be held responsible, and Tersolius can take him back to the capital for trial.