Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

These natural hunters and archers were eyeing the wide road between the two mountains with dangerous intent. This was the first thing their new boss had given them to do... Nobody wanted to mess things up, especially with the good treatment they were getting. Everyone was on high alert.

Even some people with volatile tempers and unruly personalities couldn't help but shudder at the thought of Thesolius's terrifying gaze.

Although this man had never killed any of them, the mere sight of his sharp eyes sent chills down their spines, rendering them utterly incapable of resisting.

Especially since their most capable leader couldn't even last three rounds against this man, which made them even more fearful and aweful... People like them always respect the strong, especially a strong person who can provide them with enough to eat.

Upon reaching a gentle hillside, the mountain people lined up in their ranks, following the training the cavalrymen had been giving them over the past two days. Under the influence of whips and kicks, everyone learned quickly, almost to the point of instinct.

Everyone began to wait quietly, just as they would wait for a fox.

…………

"They're here!!"

Everyone focused their attention on the scouts below who were exploring the area. They seemed completely unaware of any precautions, or perhaps they subconsciously believed that they could not possibly be attacked in their own country. As a result, the scouts were quite careless, only briefly checking the woods on both sides of the road before running back.

They weren't in the woods, of course; they were on the mountaintop...

The arrows shot from the mountaintop could not possibly reach the middle of the road, but these Hols people could never have imagined that someone could descend from the mountaintop to the foot of the mountain in such a short time after they reported back...

With a few clear calls from mountain birds, all the mountain people silently descended the mountain. Their steps were so light and swift that the rugged road and jumbled rocks could not stop them at all. Even if someone rolled down sideways, they could not be faster than them.

Before the sun in the sky had even had time to adjust its angle, the mountain people had already lined up on the gentle slopes. They took the arrows from their quivers and stuck them into the soft soil under their feet, so that they could pick up the next arrow at lightning speed.

As the first heavy arrow was nocked, all eyes turned to the center of the road, awaiting the approaching main force…

A cloud of dust suddenly rose from the distant road intersection, accompanied by the sounds of chainmail rubbing and warhorses neighing. Cavalrymen clad in dark green coats adorned with thorns intertwined with roses galloped swiftly towards them. Their unarmored, robust warhorses moved with incredible speed, and in the blink of an eye, they were on the main road.

"Prepare!"

The powerful bow made of hardwood was slowly drawn back, and with a resounding clang, the arrows, gleaming with cold light, pointed towards the center of the road. The archers, depending on their distance from the enemy, slightly raised their bows so that the arrows could trace a suitable parabola and land precisely among the enemy.

This was effortless for them. The best of them could even hit an opponent in the head from this distance…

A heavy thud of hooves suddenly echoed from the valley to the side, as if receiving a signal. The captains immediately issued their orders:

"put!"

The bowstring vibrated with an incredibly dense sound, like a swarm of venomous bees flapping their wings simultaneously, transforming into a dense mass of tiny black dots as they flew towards the middle of the road…

The next moment, panicked shouts and wails exploded here...

Chapter 32 Slaughter (3)

What would it be like if 235 skilled archers fired all their arrows at the same time? Arrows rained down like black raindrops, relentlessly striking the crowd, tearing through armor, piercing flesh, and destroying internal organs.

The cavalrymen on horseback were shot down one after another by a hail of arrows. Completely unaware of what was happening, they made no effective evasive maneuvers and were shot off their horses by a dense barrage of heavy arrows.

These arrows were incredibly accurate; the vast majority hit people without harming the precious horses.

Just as the Holstein cavalry were shouting and dodging, a thunderous sound of hooves suddenly came from the road ahead. Only when the light reflected from the scales of the armor caught their eyes did the Holstein cavalry realize what was happening...

The cavalry at the forefront tried to dodge the terrifying charge. But those behind couldn't see what was happening; they only felt that the enemy was blocking their way, and that the terrible arrows were about to hit their heads. So they desperately spurred their horses, trying to escape.

On the not-so-wide road, the Holstein cavalry were packed together in a chaotic mess, completely lacking any discipline. The cavalrymen at the front could only respond to the approaching attack with terrified screams.

………………

“Arka, give me your helmet. You take 100 men and stay here to watch. Once we break them apart, you cut off their retreat.”

Without hesitation, the standard bearer removed his helmet, and Tersolius took it without hesitation as well. Then, he pulled off the chainmail visor and put it on his own head. After securing the helmet with the leather strap, he picked up his lance, spurred his horse, and rode to the front of the cavalry.

Without any words of encouragement, the cavalrymen silently gripped their lances and chain maces, their expressions as cold as the dead, watching the oblivious Holsteins.

They slowly urged their warhorses forward from a gentle slope. The sturdy horses, unarmored, increased their speed significantly. They charged along the wide road, reaching extremely high speeds between each other. Each person slightly lowered their body to avoid being hit by a sudden arrow.

Spears were leveled, shields were raised, and the chaotic Holstein cavalry, without even firing two arrows, found the terrifying heavy cavalry charging towards them... In the blink of an eye, they were torn to pieces, blood and flesh flying everywhere... as if wiping away ants that had gathered on a table with one hand...

Rows upon rows of spears 'swept' the Holsmen off their horses, sending shattered chainmail and dripping flesh flying.

The swinging sabers, chains, and iron rods could inflict terrible damage in the instant they passed each other, severing heads, smashing skulls, and flattening chests... The shrill screams and wails surged forth like waves in the ocean.

In the blink of an eye, Hols's cavalry was completely scattered. Everywhere there were gleaming iron armor and terrifying weapons stained with blood and entrails. They passed through the column almost without hindrance, trampling more than 100 enemies under their hooves.

Unbelievable despair and screams erupted from the wounded and the uninjured, the living and the dying. They were completely unable to comprehend their situation; it was as if they were dreaming. In the blink of an eye, the ground was covered with corpses dressed in green smocks…

Only their physical instincts told them what had happened, urging them to leave quickly... but they were destined not to leave.

The arrows, which had stopped for only a moment during the impact, began to rain down again. These high-quality heavy arrows, using the momentum of falling from a height, pierced through the thin chainmail that only protected their chests and abdomens. The road was now littered with the remains of warhorses that had lost their masters.

Freed from the restraint of their masters, these beasts began to run around in panic, further loosening the Hols' ranks.

By the time the terrifying cavalry had turned and charged again, the Hols, who had lost all will to fight, had already fled to the end of the road. They frantically whipped their warhorses, drawing blood from their hides, just to gain a little more speed.

But before they could get very far, a heavy cavalryman charged out from the woods on the side and rammed into them from the waist, smashing them to pieces...

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The warhorse kept snorting and nibbling at the tender green leaves of the roadside bushes. A trail of dark red blood flowed down to its hoof. It glanced at it briefly, scratched its hoof to cover the blood with the dust, and then continued to nibble on the tender leaves.

The mutilated corpses had piled up in the middle of the road. Dark red liquid flowing from various cuts and cavities gathered together, forming a huge pool of blood that seeped into the soil until the soil could no longer bear it and it floated to the surface.

Everything of value on the corpse had been looted. The overjoyed mountain people didn't even want to let go of the green smock. Only after being kicked did they reluctantly throw away what they considered to be fine clothes.

The exquisite chainmail and linings had been removed, along with edible food from the packs... There was a considerable amount of dry bread and dried meat, which must have been their staple food.

Most of the horses that had lost their owners had been collected and gathered together. These were carefully bred warhorses, considered among the most precious things of the time.

Tarina stood stiffly by the roadside, staring at the horrific creation of piled-up corpses. Most of the white-skinned dead bodies had bled to death, presenting a chillingly pale appearance.

The flesh at the wounds torn by the terrible weapon had turned somewhat pale, but some parts were covered with a thick layer of congealed blood, exposing granular fat, and red and white marrow was flowing out from the shattered bones...

A terrible smell filled her nostrils... it was the distinctive smell of a battlefield, a mixture of blood, entrails, and all sorts of other odors, unmistakably announcing the approach of death to everyone...

The girl had never seen such a horrific scene before; her heart nearly stopped beating… The enormous mountains of corpses piled up together seemed to be howling and struggling in agony, their twisted limbs intertwined…

Her face paled as she covered her mouth, closed her eyes, and stared blankly into space. After a while, the girl opened her eyes again, now calm. Although she still carefully avoided the dark red mud soaked in blood, she resolutely walked towards the pile of corpses, the place where the cavalrymen were searching.

There, the tall Thesolius stood on a small hill piled high with corpses, looking around as naturally as if he were strolling on a scenic hillside.

Chapter 33 Trick

The spearman rummaged through the pile of corpses, and if he found someone still breathing, he would swiftly and decisively strike them. All usable weapons were collected, and only the most useless corpses and the green cloaks were thrown on the ground like trash. Occasionally, someone would use these fabrics to wipe the bloodstains off their swords.

"Sir, these people want to surrender... there are 32 left."

Tersolius turned his head expressionlessly to look at the 32 Hols kneeling on the ground, their clothes tattered and all their weapons confiscated. Although they did not appear to be injured, they were covered in large patches of blood, not their own, but spilled by their comrades who had been slaughtered.

These people must be terrified. They have no will to resist. They bury their heads on the ground, begging for mercy and forgiveness. They tremble like leaves, desperately trying to flatter this 'master' in order to save their lives.

Seeing the pitiful state of these men, a sliver of pity crept into his heart, but he quickly suppressed it... These were the same men begging for their lives who had wantonly slaughtered an entire village just last night... Although he knew this was the norm for soldiers in this era, these men had no reason to live.

"They were all hanged from the trees on both sides, with their heads facing the way they came."

With a casual expression, he issued the bloody order, and the Hols immediately screamed in terror, as if a noose had already been placed around their necks.

"Sir, we don't have that many sturdy ropes to waste..."

Marcus's helpless voice came from the side. The middle-aged man was twirling his goatee with his fingers, unaware that the blood on his hands had stained his beard red.

“Then cut off their heads and turn their faces toward where they came from.”

"As ordered."

Marcus nodded, then drew his sword and walked into the midst of the fleeing soldiers. The other cavalrymen with sabers followed suit. With a series of short screams and desperate curses, and the dull thud of swords piercing flesh, one head after another fell to the ground.

Scalding blood gushed from the neck cavity, staining the surrounding ground and the cavalrymen's armor red, slowly sliding down the greased armor and wetting the surrounding dust.

One by one, heads were grabbed by the hair and lifted up, then piled up in the middle of the road as ordered by the general, with their faces facing the direction they came from. The expressions of terror and distortion on their faces had completely frozen, and they were neatly stacked up.

"Waaah!..."

Tarina, desperately covering her mouth, came to his side. Tersolius turned his head, somewhat amused:

"You can throw up. You'll get used to it after a couple of times."

Tarina, sensing a lot of malice in those words, desperately suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"I won't throw up. I saw a lot last night... and I didn't throw up then..."

The girl's voice trembled with a hint of a sob, but she didn't actually cry; her eyes were just a little red.

“I saw with my own eyes that child of the Boris family… the child I delivered myself, impaled on their spears… such a tiny child… still moving… They should all die, they shouldn’t live, because those who truly deserved to live have already been destroyed by their hands…”

The girl sniffed hard, her nose turning bright red. She couldn't bear to look at the horrific pile of heads anymore. With a stubborn expression, she tried to turn away, but was tripped by a severed hand that reached out from under her feet. She staggered forward two steps, and Tersolis reached out and grabbed her skirt, preventing her from falling into the pile of corpses.

Tarina turned pale with fright, especially with the mangled corpse right beneath her feet. She couldn't imagine how horrific it would be if she fell in...

"Marcus, find a docile horse for our doctor, preferably a pony under two years old."

The man turned to look at her:

"You're going to have to endure some tough times with us for a while, so you'd better learn to ride a horse as soon as possible, or you won't be able to keep up..."

The girl sniffed, and suddenly had a bad feeling...

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This is an extremely fast-moving unit. Every single one of them rides a horse. These horses are not necessarily warhorses; many are inexpensive packhorses. But they are still faster than people, greatly increasing the overall speed of the unit.

They were few in number, but almost every one of them wore heavy chainmail, and some officers even wore an additional layer of exquisite scale armor.

This was a well-equipped and highly trained army of Renhols. They marched swiftly along the wide road, the deep, resonant sound of their horses' hooves striking the ground making one's heart race and breath catch in their throat.

A Holstein general with narrow eyes was riding his warhorse, a snow-white horse with only its mane being golden. The snow-white coat was covered with dust and mud, indicating that it had been traveling for a long time, but it was still full of energy, showing its extraordinary nature.

The column was moving at a very fast pace, and in the blink of an eye it was about to reach the end of the road, but an order was suddenly given, and the army slowly stopped at this place with a slight commotion, waiting for the next instructions.

The Holstein general, who looked no younger than himself, squinted at the distance. His vanguard hadn't sent any messages back for a long time, and he wondered what those fools were up to...

Those were truly a bunch of idiots. Just by raiding a village, dozens of fools fell into the mud and drowned themselves... They hadn't even caught up with their real enemy yet, and they had already suffered heavy losses.

Such misfits were not suitable for the vanguard, but he simply had no other usable light cavalry... After the great battle, the elite light cavalry in the army had been almost entirely wiped out. As for the specific reasons... all the Holstein generals knew, but none of them would reveal them...

Worried about his upcoming mission, Karl Torres Pent's face was so dark it was almost dripping with gloom, making his officers extremely cautious, afraid of angering their general at this moment.

A scout who had been exploring ahead suddenly galloped back in a panic. His whole body was trembling, his face was as pale as a dead man, and his lips were quivering. When he arrived in front of Toris, he couldn't speak for a long time, and his eyes showed a look of panic.

Torris frowned and lashed the man's face a few times before he came to his senses. Then a sharp scream escaped his lips:

"Dead!!...They're all dead!"

"what?"