Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Seeing the man's rare display of intelligence, Toridu chuckled inwardly—this was exactly what he wanted. Without help, he couldn't quickly put on his armor; what use would this fool have even if he left it behind? Did he really think this fool could stop him when he wanted to kill him? Besides, he was light and agile; he wasn't worried about the man escaping…

A troubled expression, tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction, crossed his face. But after thinking for a moment, he sighed softly.

"Alright, I don't care about anything else now... Give me my knife, I'll take care of them, then we'll go our separate ways and pretend we never met, how about that?"

"Okay, it's settled!"

The man's face lit up with joy, and he was so happy he almost jumped for joy. Although he hadn't succeeded yet, he felt much more relaxed.

As the leather straps binding his hands and feet were severed, Tori moved his wrists and ankles, then slowly stood up while holding onto the wall. Although his head was still spinning and he felt unwell, he was able to stand steadily.

The hilt is inlaid with gold and wrapped with silver wire. The disc-shaped guard is inlaid with turquoise and lapis lazuli. The sharp blade has a wonderful curve, and the sharp tip is slightly upturned, which can easily cut through flesh.

This is the Khan's treasured sword, but these three guys have no idea of ​​its value; they just think it's a pretty sword...

He reached out and grasped his knife, gently waving it twice in the air. The gleaming blade produced a clear, resonant sound, and a faint chill permeated the cave.

The man's expression suddenly stiffened, but Torid didn't do anything extra. He simply wrapped the knife in a cloth, glanced back at him, and then disappeared into the cave.

The man suddenly panicked. He realized he might have messed things up. Although he had just wanted to tear those two men apart, he suddenly felt it wasn't necessary to kill them... He had let go of this obviously dangerous person, and he didn't know what the consequences would be...

The cowardly man began to have his suspicions again, and he now deeply regretted the decision he had made on impulse. If he weren't afraid of alerting the other two, he would have almost shouted into the cave to call out Tori, who had gone in with the knife.

But before he could come up with a solution, Torridu had already slowly walked out carrying two bloody heads. The smooth, curved blade was spotless and gleamed in the bright moonlight.

The man's legs began to tremble. This seemingly down-on-his-luck old man, at this moment, was like a vicious wolf peeking out from the tall grass, scanning his head with a gaze full of evil intent...

Tori walked up to the man, tapped his face with the blade of his knife, and a mocking smile appeared on his lips:

"Find all my things, everything... don't leave out a single thing, or I'll use this knife to skin you alive, starting from the top of your head."

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

Wiping the fresh blood from his blade, Torid leaped onto his saddle and spurred his horse away from the rocky outcrop beside the low hill. The moonlight was exceptionally clear tonight, allowing him to clearly see the undulating grassland under its silvery glow. The free, cool wind that rushed into his nostrils made his bones feel refreshed. His horse neighed excitedly, its hooves moving faster and faster, making him almost seem like a gust of wind.

His blood-stained armor rustled, and the cold wind blew unimpeded over his bald head. He rode all the way to the top of the hill before stopping to find his bearings.

The scenery on the grasslands always seems somewhat similar; those unfamiliar with the land often lose their way, reminding him of his days as an ordinary shepherd… Back then, staying on the grasslands at night was dangerous and foolish. The ever-present wolves and bandits could easily cost him his life. So, at night, he would drive his flock to a nearby cave, blocking the entrance with sharp thorns. Then he would crawl inside and sleep with the sheep.

That was more than 20 years ago, but it felt like it happened yesterday... It was still the same boundless grassland, the terrain was still so gentle, the trees were still so sparse, and even the caves where he hid were scattered in roughly the same places.

He suddenly realized he had done something foolish—even though the cave had been cleaned up, why not rest there until tomorrow morning before leaving? ... But for some reason, he suddenly lost interest in going back, and just wandered aimlessly across the grassland in the dark.

His scabbard slapped against the saddle. Although he didn't know his exact location, he was certain that he was on the eastern grasslands. He was familiar with the smell of the wind here and could see the towering Mount Majaros in the distance.

He began gathering his army at the foot of that mountain. When he set out, he had more than 1 soldiers with him. After entering Cerisonas, more tribes gathered, bringing his forces to a total of 3 warriors... But now he is left alone, riding his horse across the grassland at night.

He experienced many failures in his life. After all, it was not easy to rise from a shepherd to the throne of Khan. He had experienced countless failures and escapes, and he had killed so many enemies that he could not remember them all. He had even hidden in the withered grass of the swamp like a stray dog, surviving on snails crawling on the rocks. He hid in the muddy and damp swamp for two whole days before he barely survived.

But never before had a defeat been so devastating… He didn’t know how many his army had lost, only that the endless mountains of corpses and seas of blood nearly drove him mad! The imperial soldiers, clad in full armor, slaughtered his warriors like pigs, and the rain of arrows was denser than raindrops. He was suppressed from beginning to end, and from beginning to end, he made no progress whatsoever…

He even suspected at that time that he was really fighting against the same steel... constantly banging his head against it until his bones shattered and he bled profusely.

The sight of cavalrymen, whose horses were clad in heavy armor, filled him with dread—his troops were always doomed to rout whenever they arrived, without exception. The imperial general, with his golden helmet resembling eagle wings and riding a tall, powerful warhorse, was simply unstoppable; he had never imagined a person could be so valiant…

Although he was knocked unconscious by a hammer in the midst of the bloody battle, he did not think that being awake would have any impact on the war. In fact, it might have given them too many concerns and affected his men's ability to escape.

………………

After lost in thought for a long time, Torid finally sighed and reined in his warhorse. Before him lay a small grove of trees, a perfect spot to rest.

He cleared a space with his long sword, then spread the blanket from his horse's back on it, lay down and wrapped himself in it. His warhorse was tied to a log nearby. Tori closed his eyes and soon began to breathe softly. Even the scabbed wound on his head did not affect him. Only his warhorse grazed on the tender grass in the darkness.

There's no point in thinking about it anymore; we've already lost anyway, so I might as well get a good night's sleep.

———————————–————————————————————————————————

As the commander and governor of the legion, Tersolius's tent was naturally located in the center of the camp, occupying a wide open space. Well-maintained drainage ditches were dug around the white tarpaulin to prevent dampness from seeping into the tent during heavy rain. Inside, there was not only a wide table and a bed for sleeping, but also a wooden rack for hanging armor and a chair for resting.

These tents would seem too rudimentary for a residence, but rather luxurious for a marching army—after all, in such temporary camps, most soldiers sleep in a single tent, with the entire squad crammed together.

Villages surrounding the city have begun to resume production. Villagers who had fled have spontaneously returned to their hometowns upon hearing of the army's arrival. All the Iris people in the province have been wiped out. As a result of this turmoil, the province's population is less than one-third of what it used to be. Many villages are now deserted, and large areas of land are no longer cultivated.

The most devastating losses were the looting of the Torimos and Vansmino horse farms... Although the Kurists who stole the warhorses were severely punished, and even their horses became spoils of war for the Imperial Legion, a considerable number of warhorses were still lost in the war, and the personnel and buildings of the horse farms were completely destroyed. It would certainly take several years to restore them to their former state.

Such a severe defeat and dereliction of duty is enough to bring misfortune upon a large number of people, and will affect the breeding of horses throughout the empire. The importance of this to a country surrounded by enemies is self-evident. It would not be surprising if even a governor were sent to the guillotine as a result. The anger and doubts of the imperial people need to be quelled.

Even after achieving an undeniable victory, turning the invading enemy into a field of corpses, Thesolius had no interest in cleaning up the mess. His actions were not intended to cover up the corruption, incompetence, greed, or dereliction of duty of certain individuals. Furthermore, having received authorization from the emperor and to pave the way for his future plans, he would not let this opportunity slip by, nor would he forgive those rotten roots hidden in the soil.

He now commands an army of nearly 2 men, a perfect opportunity to capitalize on the momentum... and this captured Iris merchant can reveal a great deal to him...

The only remaining Iris man on this land did not appear cunning or treacherous. On the contrary, his appearance gave people a sense of trustworthiness, without any slickness or hypocrisy mixed in. His clean-shaven beard added a touch of shrewdness, but his disheveled and tattered dirty clothes greatly diminished this impression.

The Iris man was kneeling at his feet, begging for the Empire's mercy and forgiveness, but Tersolius knew that this seemingly pitiful fellow was one of the main instigators of this rebellion and the Kurist invasion... He was weeping not for forgiveness for his sins, but because he was in Tersolius's hands and knew the tortures he would suffer, which was driving him crazy.

According to him, the Kurists plotted against him before their retreat—attempting to kill him and steal all his possessions. Fortunately, a loyal servant exchanged clothes with him, giving him a chance to escape by blending into a hay wagon.

But he certainly didn't expect that the Empire would regain control of this land in such a short time and issue harsh orders to deal with all the Iris people... So he was captured by the villagers nearby in less than two days. A bandit-hunting officer who knew his identity sent him here, which plunged him into utter despair.

135 Postscript (2)

Generally, visitors to this tent are given a seat, except for sinners... He is not qualified to stand before the commander of the Imperial Legion, and even kneeling here would displease the Imperial soldiers.

This Iris man had clearly suffered a lot to be sent here. In the past, he was a very wealthy merchant who made a fortune every day. His lifestyle was extremely luxurious, and even the governor of the empire could not compare to him.

But now his feet, which used to be clad in thick leather boots, are covered in blood. No one is willing to give him anything to stand on. He was driven here by a whip, and the skin on his feet has been worn away.

His body was covered in bloodstains and bruises, he must have endured countless beatings to get here, and even some of his hair had been torn off, revealing his bleeding scalp.

Compared to his past extravagance, he was now in a worse situation than a beggar. At least a beggar wouldn't be hated and despised by everyone, nor would anyone want to slit his throat.

Moreover, even if he endures such suffering, it is still impossible for him to survive—as one of the instigators of this rebellion, he will inevitably suffer the empire's most severe punishments and only after enduring unimaginable torment will he be granted the mercy of death.

With his intelligence, he naturally anticipated this outcome. Moreover, the imposing and terrifying military camp and the murderous soldiers along the way had made him tremble with fear. At this moment, the bones in his entire leg seemed to melt, and he no longer had the strength to get up.

He knew he had lost everything. His once-proud wealth, which had enabled him to operate on the border between two countries, was now gone. As a sinner, his status was far lower than that of a beggar.

But he still didn't intend to give up his efforts to survive. Although he knew that the crimes he had committed were too serious to be punished even with ten heads, he knew that while the law was written in the open, there was always room for maneuver and possibilities behind the scenes...

"The Kurist people have already been defeated in the east; their corpses have blocked the river and covered the grasslands... But at the same time, I've discovered something interesting. Do you know what it is?..."

The tall Tersolius sat in his chair, his shadow almost completely obscuring the kneeling Iris, his eyes never shifting to the other, as if he were talking to himself.

The man's hand trembled violently, and his shoulders twisted like a snake whose head had been stepped on, but he dared not utter a single word...

"Some things are quite interesting, like this—the Khan of the Kurist can dress his guards in armor from the Imperial Arsenal... even the craftsman's name and the production date are clearly marked on it, allowing me to easily trace its origin. Don't you think that's interesting?"

The man's teeth clenched so tightly they ground together. He hadn't expected those barbarians to be so stupid! — They hadn't even bothered to destroy the crucial information on their armor… No, perhaps they did it on purpose…

"On this point, I don't think there's any need to beat around the bush with you..."

Thesolius leaned forward slightly, his long, straight eyebrows like two newly forged swords, exuding a sharpness and majesty that made one afraid to look directly at him.

"The sins you've committed are enough to warrant the medical masters of the capital library keeping you alive until you suffer unbearable pain, until you break down in your mind and become a madman, only then will you receive a merciful death. You certainly don't want to end up like that, do you?..."

“I don’t want to negotiate with you, because you have no right to tell me everything you know. If it satisfies me, I’ll just cut off your head and spare you from the torture that follows.”

The man panicked immediately: it was completely different from what he had imagined! Tersolius didn't ask him anything, but simply gave the order. He only had two options: accept or refuse. There was no room for struggle.

“Oh, right…” As if suddenly remembering something, Tersolius looked up and reminded him, “Don’t think you can escape punishment by suicide. The guards in the capital prison have plenty of ways to get you to Chegevne alive. The real hell isn’t in your scriptures, it’s there… In just one day, you’ll agree with my judgment.”

"By the way, my patience is limited... It can only last until the wick of this oil lamp gets shorter. After that, I will lose interest in getting the answer from you."

Under relentless and terrifying coercion, the once shrewd Iris merchant was nearly driven mad. His opponent wielded the most terrifying violence, enough to render any language and hypocrisy laughable... He had no choice from beginning to end.

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

The distraught merchant from Iris was led out to be beheaded, and Thesolius kept his promise. The soldier wielding the crescent-bladed axe chopped off his head as easily as splitting a melon, the whole process swift and clean, with minimal suffering.

Of course, he certainly wouldn't thank the person who gave him the order for this...

Thus, the last known culprit of this rebellion has been beheaded. Apart from the missing Kurist Khan, although the land is ravaged, it finally has a chance to recover.

After leading his legion to the vicinity of the city, he refused all those who came to invite him, and simply ordered his troops to set up camp, waiting with a menacing look in their eyes.

The nobles and officials throughout the city, or rather the entire province, knew that his arrival was ill-intentioned. Many had already realized what was about to happen—the emperor and the central government would not let this matter rest, and the governor would not be the only one to suffer.

All the nobles and officials in the province would be punished, and the empire's harsh laws would be enforced most thoroughly under such circumstances, with no one able to escape.

When chaos began to break out in the city, Tersolius finally ordered his army to take control of the city's security and led his guards to the governor's mansion.

Anyone who attempts to create chaos at this moment will be met with the most resolute repression.

Some tried to muddy the waters in their final, desperate struggle, but Tersolius was prepared. Every official who was negligent, incompetent, or voluntarily abandoned his duties was arrested, and the security and administration of the vast city were temporarily taken over by the army…

Although Alpert cannot compare to the opulent grandeur of those commercially developed and wealthy cities, it is still tall, majestic, and imposing. As the governor's residence, this granite and marble building is not only sturdy enough, but also adorned with countless exquisite sculptures and flowers to create a magnificent and grand atmosphere.

The sturdy iron-clad wooden doors were opened early on, but Tersolius did not stop for a moment. He ignored the servants who were already standing on both sides bowing and entered the main hall of the governor's mansion in the gleaming light of his armor.

A middle-aged man with curly black hair sat on the governor's throne. His magnificent red robe was stained with wine and food scraps, and the black and yellow grime made him look extremely disheveled. His long purple silk handkerchief was also crumpled and thrown on the floor next to him.

His boots had been thrown far away, and he was barefoot on the smooth stone floor, chugging glass after glass of wine from the table. There were already more than a dozen broken bottles on the floor.

The scraping sound of armor caught his attention. The disheveled middle-aged man, dressed in fine clothes, looked up at Tersolius... then suddenly smiled and raised his wine glass in a toast to him.

Tersolius chuckled, hooked a chair over from the side with his foot, kicked it in front of the other man, and then calmly sat down.

It's time to make some things clear...

136 Postscript (3)

Judging from his appearance alone, this governor would give a good impression. He would not appear incompetent or frivolous because he was too young, nor would he be too old to make people doubt his ambition. He was at the right age, full of energy and experience, and seemed capable of being entrusted with important responsibilities.

With his tall, robust physique and bright, piercing eyes, no one would question his appointment as governor. Every citizen of the city had high hopes for him... But now it seems that what he has done has not lived up to his deceptively charming appearance.

Any sound law establishes the crime before punishment. For a governor to be punished, his crimes must first be publicized. Now, after the army has taken over the city, all those attempting to incite unrest have been arrested. Those still wandering the streets after the secret order has been issued will receive a few lashes, while those committing serious crimes will be beheaded on the spot. Before long, the entire city has calmed down.

Under these circumstances, news that the provincial governor had colluded with the Iris to sell armor and weapons from the Imperial arsenal to the Kurist people spread from soldiers and officers to every corner of the city. Even beggars hiding in dark corners heard it all. The Imperial people's characteristic of being both resilient and easily agitated once again came into play. Before the governor could even finish his bottle of wine, cries for punishment of the traitor had already shaken the entire city.

Even the heavy granite and marble could not stop the sound from spreading, although it was much weaker by the time it reached their ears, like someone whispering in front of them.

Tersolius remained silent, simply watching the other drink, while the governor, after saluting him, said nothing more, merely pouring wine from his bottle one glass after another. But his bottle was long gone; he was merely making the pouring motion while simultaneously swallowing mouthfuls of air…

All the servants in the mansion had left. This man, who once enjoyed great prestige and power, was now alone, drinking water mixed with alcohol like a vagrant sitting in a dirty corner of a tavern. Even after the last drop of liquid had flowed from his cup, he was reluctant to leave and hoped to stay there a little longer.

The capriciousness of fate was on full display at this moment; his former power was long gone, and now he had nothing.

Thesolius finally made a move; he reached out and picked up a ceramic wine bottle from the ground, then turned it over to look at the markings on the bottom:

"The wine from Aratori Estate costs a quarter of its selling price to transport here... In the capital of the Empire, a single bottle could fetch 20 gold coins. If the wine production was affected that year, the price would be even higher. To be honest, even I've never tasted it. You certainly know how to enjoy yourself."

"Would you like to try some? Just a heads-up, this wine is terrible; it has a bitter and salty taste. Compared to horse piss, it's just a bit more visually appealing."

The governor, his hair plastered to his forehead, laughed and tossed the wine bottle over, as if completely unaware it was empty. Tersolius caught it, then flipped it over, letting the last drop of glistening red wine drip onto the floor.

"Unfortunately, I don't have that luck... but I think I'll still be able to taste it at the triumphant banquet in the capital."

“Oh, I almost forgot… Congratulations, General Tessolius, on another victory for the Empire. Of course, I’m not far behind; I’ll certainly get to taste the food from the Chegevne prison. To be honest, I’m quite curious about what that is…”

"Perhaps I should shatter your illusions—the prisoners there only have one meal a day of porridge made from animal offal and grains, and because the prison is so damp, the ingredients used to make the porridge often rot. Giving it to a beggar would be considered morally corrupt."

“This is terrible… but not unacceptable. I’ve eaten worse things back in the western forests when we were confronting those Doth bastards… Back then, none of us dared to go out alone. People were dying every day, their heads chopped off and stuck on branches. Our food was rotting and infested with worms, so we just boiled it all into soup—including the worms.”

The middle-aged man was lost in memories, as if the person in front of him was an old friend he hadn't seen for many years.

"Some of the insects were still white and soft, while others already had shells... Of course, after cooking, the taste wasn't much different. Some of the larger ones reminded me of a type of nut sold in my hometown, which you could chew and eat with the shell on."

"This soup has a bitter taste and a disgusting oily smell. Many people vomited and had diarrhea after eating it and died in the camp. We ate this kind of thing for two whole months... before we finally got supplies."

"It was cold and damp there, and my clothes always clung to my body. My pale yellow linen clothes eventually turned black and were covered with a thick layer of mud... Taking a bath there was a luxury, because it meant we had to take off our armor and lay down our weapons. Generally speaking, doing that was like stabbing yourself in the throat—those damned Doths were everywhere, and you couldn't expect to find a completely safe place. You could kill them all, and they would always pop up from the most unexpected places."

"After leaving that godforsaken place, I took a shower every day... but even while showering, I carried my sword with me. Just in case some guy with a short spear suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

………………

Thesoris listened quietly, even though most of what the other person said was useless nonsense, he kept staring at him calmly, as if he were looking at a white stone sculpture that was gradually crumbling.

"What a pity, I never want to eat insects again... I would rather cut my own throat than eat them again, so you're destined to have come for nothing."

"I was going to invite you for a drink, but somehow I ended up drinking it all by myself. That's really rude of me... I think you'll forgive me; such good food is rare, and I had to enjoy it all by myself..."

The young governor smiled and nodded at him, indicating that he had finished speaking. Then he slumped into a ball in his chair, closed his eyes, and began to doze off.

Thesolius stood up, glanced once more at the scattered wine bottles, then turned and left, his guards immediately following, leaving behind a single sentence that drifted onto the smooth marble floor:

"Many people on this land can't even afford to eat insects to survive. You abandoned them. You betrayed more than you can imagine... even yourself."

As the gleaming armor and cloak departed, the heavy gates slowly closed, plunging the governor into complete darkness. After a long while, only a mournful laugh could be heard…

———————————–————————————————————————————————

The empire is surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Every citizen of the Empire is instilled with the following principle from birth: enemies on all sides of this land covet their wealth, and every citizen of the Empire must contribute to stopping them, otherwise no matter how much wealth they have, it is empty and unreliable.