Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

"Well done! I'll treat you to drinks later!"

The mountain people cheered. It wasn't that they couldn't afford to drink, but rather that their leader rarely had the opportunity to treat them to drinks—in the past, they were too poor to afford so much alcohol, and now they simply didn't have the time.

In fact, this was an incredibly easy task. All the hunters had to do was wait around the tavern and watch out for those sneaky guys. Then, they simply used their unique cunning and shrewdness to easily find the hideout of these guys and wipe out these despicable scoundrels hiding in the city.

………………

"This city is just too big. The current garrison can't control every corner, so this kind of thing is hard to avoid... I heard that several young girls were rescued from the basement of that house. They're all beauties, and we're planning to put them in a carriage and sneak them out of the city in a couple of days..."

Colin placed his half-empty glass on the table and suddenly gave Carila a meaningful look:

"So you've also been targeted by them... Should we say they're blind or have good judgment?..."

"Of course they're blind!"

Carila nonchalantly gnawed on the lamb, still dripping with blood, while rolling her eyes at Colin.

"Look at the kind of warriors this coward has provoked! It won't have any impact on the world if all these cowardly and stupid guys die; on the contrary, it will bring quite a few benefits."

"Actually, they were quite lucky."

Colin, whose face was already flushed, became quite talkative. Even though he had just fought with his opponent a couple of days ago, they were now having a pleasant conversation.

“I’ve heard how you used to handle these kinds of things. If we hadn’t come, you probably would have torn that guy to pieces, and maybe even stolen all the money from his pocket.”

"Actually, that's actually lucky."

Tarina, munching on a bright orange dried fruit, letting the sweet and sour flavor spread, suddenly interrupted the conversation:

"They won't die so easily now. Crimes in this city will be punished much more severely... even being torn apart by an axe might be better, but of course, that's what they deserve."

The scene fell silent for a moment, until Kochkin remarked:

"I doubt anyone as skilled as those enthusiastic men in black are at this kind of thing. The things they know are terrifying. I never want to be sent to jail and run into them."

"They said you've learned a lot of tricks from them, and maybe you can go and rely on them when you're done with this line of work."

Wolf, standing next to him, chuckled and teased his friend, stretching his legs out onto the table with a contented air; to him, this was a privilege reserved only for this place.

"Alright, but don't get into any trouble and end up in my hands. I won't show you any mercy. If you want to keep your life, you'd better be prepared to give me your last penny! Hahahaha!..."

The drinking continued until evening before the group, tipsy, left the tavern and began their return to their camp. Today was a rare day off, which was why they were behaving so recklessly; normally, they wouldn't dare to do such a thing even if they had three lives.

In the end, only Talina and Karila were left to carry the drunk Colin to their temporary accommodation. Talina rarely drank because of her work, while Karila had a high alcohol tolerance, so this little bit was not even an appetizer for her... Only Colin, who used to drink diluted fake alcohol, had drunk too much because he was in a moment of pleasure.

This city is so vast that living within it is like ants living on a giant tree. The bustling crowds sweep over those who come here, forcing them to live according to the city's ways, ultimately becoming completely integrated into this clamor and a part of it all...

Chapter 198 Interlude (4)

The vast and solid training ground was filled with a firm and serious atmosphere. All the soldiers gathered here were serious and unsmiling. If you looked closely, you could see that there was tension in their expressions.

The soldiers were divided into rows according to their respective units, each holding a wooden board. Officials, with parchment placed on the boards, called out the soldiers' names in turn, calling them forward to the open space.

This is not about distributing rewards or giving commendations—if that were the case, the place would already be filled with cheers and praise.

This is an even more demanding and rigorous necessary process—regularly assessing the soldiers of the elite legion.

The soldiers of the elite legion enjoy incredibly generous treatment. Once they obtain this status, they will not only have no worries about food and clothing, receive high military pay, and use the best equipment, but their families will also receive a series of preferential treatments. Even if the whole family consists of idiots and morons, they can still live a good life.

However, such excellent treatment is not easy to obtain. Joining the legion is not the end of the story. They must guarantee to earn these privileges with the best qualities and discipline. They must prove themselves to be the best soldiers in the entire empire in order to receive such an honor.

Therefore, such assessments occur every so often. All soldiers are instructed to prepare a month in advance. During the assessment, the entire army lines up on the training ground to prove their strength under the watchful eyes of thousands of people.

This is not only a test of martial arts skills and physical fitness, but also puts great psychological pressure on the test takers—because if they fail the test three times and do not make any contributions, they will have no chance of staying in the elite legion.

Being in such a glorious army, enjoying the most generous soldier benefits in the entire empire, who would be willing to leave? Especially because of their own incompetence... Therefore, every soldier would diligently hone their martial arts skills, refine their discipline, and practice teamwork before the assessment, all to prove that they were worthy of their current status.

As names were called out one by one, more than 300 archers lined up in the wide field, wearing tough chainmail, pointed chainmail helmets with nose guards and neck guards, and leather and steel plates for their wrists and ankles.

At the command, the archers began to draw their bows and shoot with practiced ease, completing the entire process of drawing the arrow, nocking the string, drawing the bow, releasing the arrow, and drawing the arrow again in a smooth and fluid motion, without any unnecessary pauses.

About 50 paces in front of them stood a straw target with a palm-sized mark painted in bright red. Arrows rained down, piercing the tough straw ropes that made up the target with deadly force and straightness. A unit of arrows was fired in the blink of an eye.

The elite archers standing here rarely miss their targets. In other legions, each of them would be considered excellent, but here, they are held to a higher standard—they must be faster, more accurate, more ruthless, and more direct.

There are three chances in total. Everyone who fails to meet the standard will have two more chances to salvage their reputation. In the tense and terrifying atmosphere, everyone grits their teeth and concentrates intently.

In the adjacent arena, armored infantrymen are engaged in fierce combat, their blunt weapons leaving white marks on their opponents' armor. Flat-headed spears and blunt swords clashed back and forth. None of the elite and tenacious infantrymen would easily admit defeat, and it was often only after a long period of attrition and stalemate that one side was finally defeated.

Meanwhile, elite officers atop the towering wooden towers nearby would intently observe their actions, evaluating the performance of each individual and the group as a whole, with scribes recording their observations on parchment scrolls.

Further on the vast plain, the hardened loess soil was being trampled by warhorses. Light cavalrymen charged forward in formation, scattering arrows like raindrops onto the straw men erected on the grass. They circled and soared over the grass like eagles, tearing at their prey.

The armored cavalry undergo the most rigorous and meticulous assessments. They are the most renowned, powerful, and fierce knights in the empire, enjoying the most generous treatment in the entire empire, using the best warhorses, armor, and weapons. Therefore, they should naturally be the most outstanding and elite.

Every assessment they underwent was extremely rigorous. What might have been considered harassment by other soldiers was taken for granted here. They proudly accepted these standards and ruthlessly proved with their outstanding performances that they were fully deserving of everything they had achieved.

The cavalrymen returned proudly to their camp, letting their sweat-drenched horses rest in the stables; their performance was impeccable.

This rigorous and intense test lasted for three days, during which each soldier was carefully examined to prove that they possessed the necessary qualities and abilities.

Whether it's good or bad luck, no one left the legion this time, but some are still in danger due to poor performance. If they fail twice more, they will lose their current glory.

Of course, some people received extra rewards for their outstanding performance, so it's fair to say that some were happy while others were sad. But most people still managed to get through it peacefully.

As the sun sets, even these resilient and elite soldiers feel exhausted. As the cooking smoke rises, their meal for the day will be exceptionally plentiful, a long-standing tradition to reward their bravery and willpower.

Only then did Natamus, who was eager to return home, finally allow himself to spur his warhorse away from the camp, and with his personal guards, travel under the moonlight back to the heart of the empire.

Thinking of his wife, who was now too immobile to move much, and her increasingly cumbersome belly, he wished he could grow wings and fly back, so he wouldn't have to worry about the journey.

………………

In the Empire, most death row inmates are beheaded quickly and without much torture, except for those who have committed heinous crimes and deserve more suffering.

The gleaming decapitation sword was sharpened to a fine point to ensure a clean and swift decapitation. This weapon was only meant for this purpose; its extreme focus was designed to enhance the ultimate slashing power, which resulted in a lack of dexterity and fluidity, creating significant openings.

However, if it is only used to decapitate, this heavy blade will show great advantages - the long blade is not easy to slip and fall like an axe blade, and the heavy weight will make the neck seem extremely vulnerable.

As usual, the execution platform in the city square was crowded with people. After the crimes of the prisoners were read out, one after another, the prisoners with their hands bound and covered in blood were pushed to the front of the platform. Below the platform was a basket woven from soft and flexible branches. The executioner had to make sure that the head fell into the basket accurately to be considered skillful and perfect.

With a flash of cold light, a distorted head fell straight into the basket, warm blood splattering everywhere, staining the nearby pillar red. Blood gushed from the still-writhing neck muscles, quickly piling up in a pool on the ground.

One after another, the bloody heads piled up like melons, and more and more of them, until a new frame was used to hold all the heads. The decapitated prisoners were so terrified that they soiled themselves, but they still could not escape this cruel punishment.

At this point, all the captured criminals had been executed, and the jubilant Imperials, having finally finished watching the spectacle, turned and left satisfied, leaving only two figures, one tall and one short, still standing there pointing and gesturing.

"See, I told you so. These guys will get what they deserve. That's the rule of this country. If you want to survive here, you have to follow the rules... just like when you go to another prince's territory, you have to abide by the rules there."

Carila nodded thoughtfully:

"You're right, that's exactly right... I didn't expect you, little dwarf, to be so clever. Thank you so much this time! I'll treat you to the best wine here later."

Colin's brow, which had just relaxed, suddenly furrowed:

"Who are you calling a shorty?! I'm within the normal height range!"

Karila looked down at the girl in the mountains with a half-smile, saying nothing but conveying her meaning clearly.

"It's clearly because you're too tall! You're as sturdy as a tree. Where can you find a woman this tall? You're clearly an exception!"

"Isn't it a good thing to be healthier and taller? A warrior wouldn't like a skinny woman. I see that's how it is here too. You should grow taller, otherwise I'll just call you a dwarf."

"You...are you deliberately trying to fight me?! Take back what you said right now! You wretched, big oaf!"

"Ha! You can't beat me anyway..."

"You...!"

…………

In the city, the two bickered as they embarked on their journey home. Although they still seemed at odds, for some reason, they inexplicably became more harmonious.

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"Get out of my way! I just want to get some fresh air! Why are you all blocking my way?"

Christina stomped her feet in frustration, but the lady-in-waiting and maids who had cared for her since childhood refused to budge, trying to get their mistress back to her room filled with soft blankets.

“Please forgive our intrusion, Mrs. Christina, but Dr. Tarina’s predicted delivery date is very close, and we cannot let you take that risk. If you need anything, we can bring it here, but for now, please rest here.”

"We can open all the windows to let in the fresh air from outside."

“Miss, don’t forget what Lord Tersolius said. He told you to follow the doctor’s instructions… Lord Natamus will be back soon, and we must make sure the child is not threatened.”

Hearing her lady-in-waiting's words, Christina finally sighed helplessly, turned around and went back to her room, dejectedly collapsing onto the soft bed.

"When I was 13, I could walk all the way to Toribeca on my own, and when I was 18, I shot a wolf with my own hands. But now you won't even let me leave my room!..."

The rather elderly female official walked to the bedside, and with a mixture of helplessness and affection, gently brushed aside the hair on the mistress's forehead:

"Don't be stubborn, Miss. Dr. Talina is an excellent healer, and we should seriously consider her suggestions. Your actions have become increasingly difficult these past two days. Perhaps even as we are speaking, this little one is already eager to arrive in this world. We must be fully prepared..."

"Childbirth is a dangerous process for women. Although you are very healthy, we must be extremely careful... I have seen many tragic things, but I would never want such a thing to happen here."

Christina slightly turned over, but dared not lie down, afraid of pressing on the fetus in her womb.

"Okay, okay, you don't need to say so much, Dolores... I'm just a little annoyed. Go get me some water and snacks, I'm a little hungry."

The maids and servants around breathed a sigh of relief. The one closest to the door turned around immediately at the lady of the house's glance and hurriedly went to do his work. All the windows were opened, letting in the gentle autumn breeze.

The other servants were not idle either; they quickly and efficiently began cleaning the room until it was spotless. Only then did most of them bow and leave.

Dolores, meanwhile, sat by the bed, chatting with her agitated mistress… This woman, no longer young, knew exactly what was wrong with her—like any woman giving birth for the first time, she was inevitably tense and fearful, which was why she appeared so agitated and uneasy.

Soon the water and snacks were brought in. The cool well water was originally very clear and sweet. Later, on Dr. Tarina's advice, the servants in the kitchen would boil the water and then put it into a clean earthenware pot to cool before serving it to their mistress.

These pastries were all made by a skilled private chef brought from home, and were carefully inspected to ensure they were perfect and meticulously prepared.

Dolores was about to help her mistress up when she felt the body she was supporting suddenly tremble, and Christina's fair and beautiful face quickly turned pale. She began to curl up, the intense pain rendering her speechless.

…………

In the blink of an eye, the manor became lively, and Natamus stopped his warhorse and hurriedly stepped through the gate.

Chapter 199 Heirs (1)

The lush green grape leaves have now turned somewhat yellow and brownish, brittle edges, yet they still block most of the sunlight, providing ample shade. The grapes, as translucent as purple jade, hang heavily on the vines, each bunch dense and plump, brimming with juice and sugar.

The marble mosaic tiles underfoot are tightly joined together, with the gaps filled with dense mortar, making them as smooth as a single piece. The fine grooves on them also guide rainwater, preventing excess water from accumulating in the courtyard.

The building occupies a large area, and a pond has been specially set aside in the spacious courtyard, which is surrounded by trees with soft branches.

In addition, the spacious grape trellis that occupies half of the yard provides a cool and comfortable environment, no matter how scorching the sun is, allowing the host and his guests to enjoy themselves and hold lavish banquets.