Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

…………

Time passed minute by minute, and the follicle continued to move vigorously, seemingly unaffected. Just as a look of frustration appeared on the girl's face, things suddenly took a turn for the better!

A faint bluish-gray tinge began to spread across the follicles, slowly but clearly visible, revealing a somber, death-like hue…

157 Banquet and Torture

Everything became much easier after that. After all, no matter how strange or troublesome something is, it's already in the past. A lump of dead flesh won't cause any trouble; all you need to do is clean it up.

Tarina's slender fingers were extremely precise and powerful as she carefully separated each blood vessel with silver tweezers until the entire follicle had detached from the brain tissue before she carefully removed it.

On the silver plate was something that looked like a sea anemone, with a segmented stem and dense red tentacles, topped with a bulging egg-shaped sac. If one did not know that this was something taken from a human brain, Tersolys might have imagined it swaying in a pool of seawater.

After that, there was nothing to worry about. The meninges were sutured with catgut that had been cleaned with magic, the skull was reattached, and the scalp was sewn back on. As a blue light flashed, medicine was applied, and a clean, breathable gauze was wrapped around the wound. Then, we could wait for it to heal.

It's worth mentioning that the device used to secure the skull was a silver clip. Several small holes were drilled in it before the relatively soft metal clip was installed. After all, the stress requirements here weren't too high, and they had no other choice but to make do.

In this matter, Tersolius did not do much differently from a highly skilled carpenter. On the contrary, he did it better because of his extraordinary courage. At least an ordinary carpenter would not have the courage to crack open a person's head.

Next, we just need to wait for the effects of the anesthetic powder to wear off, let this guy rest for a couple of days, and then we can start interrogating him. Given that he has dozens of Mamluks under his command, what he knows is definitely not on the same level as the previous minor characters. We can look forward to it.

A ray of sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the marble floor. Countless dust particles danced and collided in the light, appearing as if some tiny life form was joyfully twirling.

The city had been bustling since midnight yesterday, but it became calmer after sunrise. Everyone got up early, so the smoke from cooking fires started exceptionally early, and you could see wisps of white smoke rising into the sky from the windows.

The city consumes an astronomical amount of fuel every day. If firewood were burned, even cutting down all the trees in the surrounding mountains wouldn't be enough for so many years. Therefore, most people use straw from the fields and dried cow and sheep manure to cook, and in winter they use coal mined nearby.

Cerisonas has a large number of cattle, sheep and horses. The dried cow dung alone is enough to supply the city's daily fuel. However, these things are hard to store in the city and need to be transported from outside the city every day. So, as soon as the order to close the city gates was issued, many households immediately went out of business.

Only after all the criminals hiding in the city were apprehended was the order to reopen the city gates issued. Farmers and herders who had been waiting outside the city brought fuel, fruits, vegetables, and other necessities into the city using shoulder poles or horse-drawn carts, allowing the city to regain its former vitality.

The city's prosperity exudes a vibrant and thriving atmosphere. From the high mansions above, the people below appear as small as bees, darting about in the streets and alleys, their shouts and noises filling the air.

Everyone has their own things to do and is living their lives in their own way. Even the turmoil of last night didn't affect them for long. Life goes on as soon as it gets light, and they still have to do what they need to do.

"He killed two people?"

"Yes, sir, it was the Polito couple who bought the Asler pie in the Turren district. They were his old friends, and he was murdered after they discovered his identity."

Do they still have relatives?

"Without the adults, they originally came from the southern provinces. They had no relatives or friends here. They originally had two children, but both of them died young, and they had no offspring since."

"Is this so..."

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

The burly ox, its nose tethered, struggled desperately, but was firmly bound by thick ropes. A burly soldier picked up a large axe, stepped forward, raised it high, and with a powerful thrust of his waist and legs, severed the massive ox's head. The scalding ox blood soaked the rammed earth ground into a muddy pool. The ox's body, covered in blood and foam, fell forward, still bleeding. Quick-witted soldiers quickly stepped forward, using sharp daggers to peel off the oxhide and cut large chunks of beef.

The fat sheep in the pen next to the camp were caught, their throats cut to bleed them, their skin peeled off, and their intestines and offal fed directly to the hunting dogs in the military camp. The fresh meat that was still jumping was cut out and put into basin after basin, and then sent to the military camp's kitchen, or it was put on a fire with a little salt and skewered with thick iron tongs.

Hundreds of large pots are steaming, with firewood burning beneath them, and inside are chunks of fresh beef and mutton, releasing a rich aroma as the broth boils.

Once the beef and mutton are cooked until tender, large bowls of chopped radishes are poured in, seasoned with salt, and topped with cilantro. Served with freshly baked crispy bread, you won't feel cold even lying in the freezing cold after eating.

The ale in wooden barrels was delivered to the military camp by horse-drawn carts. Each squad was given a large barrel. They pried open the barrel lid with a knife, filled their cups with the still-chilling ale, and paired it with grilled meat skewers, hot soup, and crispy bread. Everyone drank to their heart's content, laughing and talking loudly in this rare moment of lifting the ban.

This was a belated victory celebration, which the soldiers should have enjoyed when they achieved that great victory. However, the conditions were simply not right on the vast and sparsely populated border grasslands, so it was postponed until now, after they entered the city.

Merchants, farmers, and herders in the vicinity made a fortune. The amount of supplies consumed in holding a victory banquet was astronomical. Everyone in the city and the surrounding area could get a lot of benefits from it. Even the beggars on the street received extra relief. Vehicles transporting supplies were constantly coming and going, from noon until evening.

Postponing the victory celebration after a great victory... Although he handled this matter casually, it would be a troublesome matter for a mediocre commander. If not handled carefully, it could easily arouse the dissatisfaction of the soldiers and cause serious consequences.

Only someone like Thesolius, who held immense prestige within the army, could issue such orders so casually and execute them flawlessly.

The army trusts its commander, whose cohesion is enough to terrify any enemy. His words carry immense credibility; not only would a victory celebration be postponed, but even the distribution of rewards would be delayed without a single person in the army questioning him.

The rewards had already been distributed, since money was much easier to transport and carry than large amounts of meat and wine. The rewards varied depending on the merits each person had made, and many people were promoted as a result of this victory. Many outstanding soldiers became officers.

Soldiers and junior officers celebrated in the camp, while senior officers had long since gathered in the central command tent, where sturdy tables and chairs were available, and the food laid out on them was noticeably more refined and varied.

Even the wine in the flask was a fine wine bought from the city. After being cooled in the cool well water, the flask was covered with dew. Before you could even react, it rolled down your throat, leaving only a mouthful of wine aroma. It was the perfect match for roasted meat sprinkled with Assele spices.

Today is a rare opportunity to let loose, so few people will sit up straight, even though their commander is sitting at the very top—it's both a custom and a tradition, and as long as things don't go too far, no one will hold them accountable.

Almost everyone sat crookedly, doing whatever was most comfortable, and would burst into laughter and bang on the table in front of them to cheer on the two people in the center of the room as their emotions rose.

Tersolius watched with interest the two men facing off on the flat ground in the center of the camp—neither of them ordinary soldiers, but two battle-hardened centurions, usually so imposing, now like lions locked in a cage, glaring fiercely at each other.

This was also one of the activities permitted at the victory celebration banquet: officers who had accumulated resentment and hatred on ordinary days or on the battlefield could take this rare opportunity to challenge their opponents. Both sides would don armor and weapons and fight a good battle in front of all their colleagues and commanders. Regardless of the outcome, there would be no further discord afterward, and no conflict or mistakes in important matters, otherwise they would be severely punished.

Some people had been waiting for this opportunity for more than half a year, and they jumped out to issue a challenge not long after the banquet began. And his opponent accepted without hesitation—if he were weak and backed down, he wouldn't be able to survive in the army.

Having obtained Teresolus's permission, the two of them found their own weapons and put on their armor, and were now probing each other, looking for weaknesses.

The probing didn't last long; soon the two were locked in combat. Swords flashed and gleamed within the tent, whipping up gusts of cold wind as they clashed and rubbed against each other, producing a constant, crisp sound.

They fought very carelessly. Although their swords were blunt and wouldn't hurt their heavily armored opponents, they were still reckless. Anyone with common sense could tell they were venting their emotions, and many of their attacks lacked strategy.

The duel lasted a long time, as if the two were deliberately dragging it out. It wasn't until a pot of wine was finished that a winner was decided. The loser was knocked to the ground by the hilt of his sword, but was then helped up by his opponent. The two of them then sat back down as if nothing had happened.

Just as Thesolius raised his wine cup, about to say something to his men, Arka suddenly walked in and whispered something in his ear…

The corners of Tersolius's mouth curled up, and a hint of joy appeared on his face. Then he stood up.

"You guys go ahead and drink and eat. I won't entertain you anymore. Don't make too much noise, or I won't let you off the hook if you cause any trouble."

The officers burst into laughter, responding to him all at once, completely unlike their usual disciplined selves... but only for today.

Stepping out of the tent, he found the camp still bustling with activity, the setting sun casting a reddish glow over everything. Without a moment's hesitation, he mounted Moss's horse and, amidst the cheers of the soldiers, led a troop of cavalry away from the camp.

………………

It was a cool, dry room. The dust on the bluestone floor had been swept clean, and the walls were spotless. It looked like a good place to live.

The only drawback is that the house doesn't get much natural light. There's only a small window, about two feet square, on the west wall, which lets in some light each day so the room isn't too dark.

The only resident here is a young man who is tied to a wooden frame with leather straps. The frame can be laid flat so that he can sleep while tied up... Of course, he certainly doesn't find it considerate.

Although the young man was not old, he was bald, with not a single extra hair on his head. His head was shiny from being shaved with a razor. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips were pale, and his whole body was stiff. He did not look to be in good condition.

Two fully armed soldiers stood like statues at the door, their gleaming swords held directly in their hands, exuding an unspoken threat. Apart from medical staff who came to change their dressings, anyone without permission would be stopped by them.

The sounds of announcements continued from outside the corridor. With a series of heavy footsteps, the legionary commander, Tersolius, walked towards them with his personal guards. A tall figure in a cloth skirt followed beside him, and the two were talking as they walked.

Upon reaching the entrance, two soldiers pushed open the gate before bowing to greet their commander.

They filed in, but the young man, even hearing the commotion, seemed not to wake up, his eyes still tightly closed and his fingers not moving an inch.

The black-robed jailer stepped forward, silently took out a shiny iron skewer from a small pouch at his waist, carefully examined the prisoner bound to the wooden frame, and then grabbed the prisoner's finger to pry off his nail.

With a deft twist of nimble fingers, a sharp iron skewer pierced and tore a shiny white fingernail to the ground, still clinging to a few strands of flesh and blood. This must have caused excruciating pain, but the prisoner remained unfazed, as if what had been pried off was not a fingernail, but a piece of dead skin.

"You're quite the actor, but you can't fool us. If you don't open your eyelids soon, I'll cut them off so you can never close your eyes again..."

As Teresolus finished speaking, the young man remained expressionless and motionless. After receiving permission, the black-robed jailer took out a sharp little hook to try and lift up the young man's eyelids.

Just as the sharp hook tip was about to touch the skin on his eye, the pale-faced prisoner finally opened his eyes, his expression complex.

158 The staff's proposal (1)

For a normal person, the scene before them would undoubtedly be a desperate situation, a hopeless and hopeless predicament, a descent into the deepest abyss... Someone with a slightly weaker will might already be speechless with fear, trembling like a leaf. The young man before them, though his head was still bandaged, had a remarkably calm gaze. Even though his fingernails had just been pried off with pliers, and the intense pain still radiated from his fingertips, he hadn't even flinched.

If they had met on the battlefield, Thesolius might have felt a sense of admiration for him, but facing such a despicable and treacherous person, he had no such sentiment. Seeing that the other party had opened his eyes, he sat down on the chair that his guards had pulled out for him, then dismissed everyone and prepared to begin his interrogation.

"You seem like a tough nut to crack. I'm afraid even if I ask you, you won't tell me, right?"

A hint of bewilderment flickered in the young man's eyes... It sounded like the other party had already made a judgment before even starting the interrogation, leaving him somewhat at a loss for words. His carefully prepared response suddenly seemed useless, and even his usually quick wit faltered.

Seeing that he remained silent, Thesolius looked at his face again, and then suddenly nodded:

“He’s definitely a tough guy. Men, give him the best punishment.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the door opened again before the young man's eyes, which were filled with surprise and a hint of panic. A group of black-clad jailers pushed a cart in and then, right in front of the legion commander, they removed the black cloth from the cart and laid out one by one the terrible instruments of torture, gleaming with cold light and stained with blood. They placed the whips soaking in the water next to him, and some even began to sharpen sharp iron spikes and hooks on a flat whetstone.

These people were like a flock of crows, their worn copper surfaces clearly showing signs of long use, yet they were spotlessly clean, without a trace of dirt. They held weapons meant to skin and dismember, but they moved with the composure and order of a group of street vendors setting up their stalls, their every action brimming with the spirit of everyday life.

But the person about to receive their skills would not feel warm. Even though he had hardened his heart and killed his two friends, the young man still felt terrified. He realized one thing—the other party had not even formally asked him anything before ordering him to be tortured. This was not an interrogation at all, but just an attempt to torture him!

Tersolius had already stood up and was walking away on his own, seemingly ready to hand over the space to these professionals. He came and went in a hurry, showing no intention of interrogating him, and even a lack of interest, just like those incompetent playboys who were only interested in eating, drinking, playing, and indulging in luxurious pleasures, and couldn't do anything practical.

But anyone with a sound mind knows that Thesolius is definitely not a useless fool. As a renowned general, he has proven his ruthlessness and invincibility time and time again on the battlefield.

The thousands upon thousands of severed heads, the rivers of blood flowing in abundance, and the tens of thousands of homeless souls... If he were to even furrow his brow, some would be so terrified that they would toss and turn in their sleep. No one would believe that what this man said was a joke; he truly meant it!

Seeing that the other person was about to walk out the door, the young man, who could no longer hold back, finally called out:

"Wait a minute!..."

Tersolius paused slightly, then continued walking forward without turning back.

"Wait a minute! Weren't you going to ask me something?!"

He finally became a little anxious. In the end, the spy, still clinging to a sliver of hope, was unwilling to lose his life like this and couldn't help but try to find a chance.

Thesolius finally came to a complete stop, but merely turned his head to the side:

"You're still clinging to unrealistic fantasies, and you'll continue to enjoy this treatment until you stop making stupid mistakes."

"Otherwise, you might still think you have some leverage to negotiate with me... I'll be back in a day. Don't worry, they're careful and won't let you die."

The words had barely left his lips when he stepped outside. The light outside seemed to dim, leaving only the silent jailers behind. Their various instruments were already prepared, ready to be used at any moment to uphold the dignity of the imperial laws.

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

The governor's residence was naturally taken over by Tersolius, and most of the servants who had once run the place were replaced by his personal guards, who brought with them a disciplined military style. Everywhere was heavily guarded, with gleaming swords and halberds protecting the entrances. Any visitor had to undergo rigorous checks before they could see the legion's commander.

Having taken over the trip, Tersolius inevitably had to take charge of the province's administration. Every day, a flurry of parchment would fall onto his desk, each requiring his personal approval.

The distribution of slaves to the land had already shown results; the province's productivity recovered remarkably quickly. Many villages that had been burned and looted were rebuilt by the slaves, who buried the corpses, cleared away the ruins, and erected numerous shacks. Especially after learning that they could retain enough food to feed their families at the end of the year, these long-oppressed slaves unleashed astonishing enthusiasm, building pastures and villages across the land at an astonishing pace.

They were also promised more food if they performed well, and even the opportunity to build their own houses on the land instead of their current shacks... Although it didn't sound like much, it was an astonishing act of kindness compared to previous practices, and it gave the slaves a glimpse of a possible future... a possibility that life would get better and better.

Even though the situation was very favorable, there were still many areas that needed coordination, and quite a few problems that he needed to solve. So, messengers were constantly arriving at this mansion, often arriving as soon as one had left on horseback.

Of course, handling government affairs couldn't be done by sitting there thinking alone. To ensure that his decisions were correct, he would summon people from time to time to inquire about the situation and listen to reports from his subordinates. Talina, along with several aides, gathered around his desk to discuss and handle one government matter after another.

These staff members were all outstanding talents selected from the army or other places. In order to find them, Tersolius even put on a rather large test.

The legion and officials throughout the province were informed that anyone who felt they possessed sufficient ability could come and recommend themselves to the legion commander and participate in a test to assess their individual skills.

Even the most foolish person could realize that this was a chance to rise to the top in one step. Although only 5 people would eventually receive this honor, more than 3000 people were allowed to come, directly blocking the central road of the city.

After rounds of selection, expending enormous energy and mobilizing numerous resources, those who wanted to take a chance but lacked the ability were eliminated, leaving only these five people.

Two of these five men were junior officers in his legion, in the prime of their lives, while the other two were experienced and outstanding officials in the provincial government. Most surprisingly, a low-ranking clerk also made it into the group, which was completely unexpected.

What sparked even greater controversy was that this minor official was a woman who inherited her father's position in the Imperial Livestock Bureau. Although her authority was pitifully small, she could still be considered part of the official ranks. She fought her way through the ranks thanks to her extensive knowledge and experience, eventually rising through the ranks to become the commander's advisor.

The story of a nobody rising through the ranks based on his own abilities is always delightful and makes many people realize that Tersolius is different from others—he truly only considers relevant abilities and character, without taking into account factors such as family background. This shocked many people and greatly inspired others, who regretted missing this opportunity but were also eagerly anticipating the next chance.

“Pasadavia, the town's manager told me that his stables are severely understaffed, and the season is over, so it's difficult to meet the targets. What do you think?”

The woman called Passadavia had long, dark brown hair, very common among the Empire's people. Her smooth, shiny hair was braided into a thick plait that hung down to her chest. Her bright eyes often glistened with a layer of water, making her appear extremely spirited. Although her facial features weren't particularly delicate, they were very pleasing to the eye, and coupled with her well-proportioned and voluptuous figure... she was the kind of woman whose charm became apparent after spending some time with her.

Hearing Tersolius's words, the girl was clearly nervous. It was the first time she had been given this position and the first time she had stood in such a serious and important place. She was so nervous that she couldn't speak. Her eloquence, which she would use to deal with the horse traders the next day, was completely useless. She stammered, and the more she stammered, the greater the psychological pressure became, and the more flustered she became.

But the commander-in-chief had already asked, and as a subordinate, I had to answer immediately no matter what... otherwise, if I was seen as disrespecting the commander-in-chief's authority, I would be in big trouble.

"My lord! I... I don't think there's any problem... Please forgive my offense, but what he said is true. The breeding season is long over, and there are no suitable stallions. It will be at least the second year before we can start working on restoring the number and breed of horses. This rebellion has had a huge impact on the horse farm. Many horses have escaped or been kidnapped and are difficult to find... I'm afraid we will have to start buying horses from other places to supplement our supply."

At first, she stammered, as if her tongue was tied in knots, but when she started talking about what she was good at, the woman quickly became more composed, her speech became more fluent, and she made her suggestion almost without thinking.

Tersolius nodded. He didn't understand these things, but a person with rich experience and knowledge could help him solve related problems, preventing him from issuing wrong orders. If he encountered difficulties, he could consult a reliable person. Seeing that other experienced officials hadn't raised any objections, he became even more satisfied.

“Very good, your suggestion is very valuable. Then go and reply to him. The plan to restore the number of horses can be postponed until next spring, and the funds for purchasing the relevant horses can also be reported... Send orders to all the horse farms to follow this plan.”

Do you have any advice regarding purchasing horses?

New questions and new challenges arose once again, but with the experience from last time, she answered them with increasing ease:

"My lord, our country has the best warhorses in the world, but only the Central Province of the Empire is qualified to breed Passatria horses. Unless you can obtain permission, our best choice is the Bilveria horse or the Aselturis Thoroughbred from the Caris Province. These are warhorses with good endurance and strong physique, and they are not prone to disease, easy to raise, and there are relevant channels to purchase them. They are perfect for our current situation."

The Passatrian horse was the warhorse ridden by armored cavalry. Tersolius had long witnessed the superiority of this horse, which even exceeded the limits of what he thought horses could achieve. It was far superior to other fine warhorses; they were practically two different species. Not only were they tall and incredibly strong, easily carrying cavalry through thick infantry formations, but they also possessed extraordinary stamina, able to fight for long periods without exhaustion even while wearing heavy armor and leading fully armored cavalry.

Moreover, while fierce and warlike, they are also relatively docile. The more intense the battle, the more spirited these noble creatures become... Apart from eating too much, they have no flaws in any aspect. The horse he rides, Mos, is the best among Passatrian warhorses, standing out from the crowd among these precious steeds.

Although these precious warhorses can grow healthily on fertile grasslands, if they are fed only grass, it would take them a whole day to fill their stomachs. In times of war, they need a lot of concentrated feed and salt to ensure they have enough strength. In addition, there are various other facilities, personnel and special materials required, making the cost of raising them extremely high. Ordinary people simply do not have the conditions to raise them, and they would be bankrupted by these big-eaters in no time.

Throughout the entire empire, only a handful of heavily guarded horse farms in the central province were qualified to raise and breed these precious warhorses. The annual output was extremely limited, which materially restricted the development of the empire's powerful armored cavalry.

Tesorus began to stroke his chin thoughtfully again—the province's excellent pastures and other favorable conditions greatly appealed to him, and he was now considering whether to speak to the emperor about it…