Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

"Wait a minute!"

Just as Karila realized she had almost missed her mission and was about to rush to the arena at her fastest speed, Talina suddenly called her back. Then, under her anxious gaze, she began rummaging through the pile of messy boxes behind her and quickly pulled out a green leaf.

"This will bring you good luck. Best of luck."

"Oh, thank you, doctor. I'll keep this with me."

Karila grabbed the leaf and rushed out of the room, quickly leaving amidst a flurry of activity. In the midst of her sprint, she finally noticed the peculiarity of the leaf in her hand…

It looks like a soft leaf, but when you hold it in your hand, it feels as solid and resilient as a piece of hardwood that has been carefully cut, and it has a warm and cool touch like jade, which makes you inexplicably fond of it.

But she didn't have time to worry about anything else now. She casually stuffed the leaf into the small pouch at her waist. Karila, who was about to be late, was hurrying on her way...

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With a heavy chop forward, the axe in his right hand deftly probed and hooked at the last moment upon contact with the opponent's weapon, using the groove on the back to catch the opponent's blade, creating a momentary opening.

In that instant, Karila had already firmly grasped him, and her left-hand axe followed closely behind. Almost at the same time as blocking the opponent's blade, it had already heavily slashed into the armored side ribs. The heavy impact made the strong man in front of her widen his eyes, and he made a sound like a deflated balloon, his body bending to the side. After struggling for a couple of moments, he collapsed to the ground.

Her fluid movements never faltered. After delivering that decisive blow, she immediately ducked forward, slipping under the man's arm to dodge a short sword thrusting from behind, while simultaneously turning to face her opponent who had almost succeeded.

This was the third match of the day. Kalila, covered in sweat, stretched her shoulders with relief, feeling happy about her good luck. She had thought she would miss the match because of the crowd, but unexpectedly, she happened to run into Tersolius's honor guard on their way here. She hitched a ride and arrived here without any obstacles just before the match was about to start.

In this 2-on-2 battle, only the two of them remain—Carila's so-called teammate was basically useless and was knocked to the ground by the opponent's preemptive strike, so now she can only rely on herself.

She stuck out her tongue and licked the corner of her mouth. The sweet, metallic taste told her that blood had flowed from the wound on her cheek... Although they were all relatively safe weapons that were not sharpened to reduce weight, minor injuries like these were always hard to avoid.

A sinister smile crept across her lips, an indescribable joy filling her heart, giving her an urge to burst out laughing—leaving her hometown had indeed been the right decision. Here, she could easily encounter powerful opponents and revel in the thrill of battle. If she hadn't dodged in time, she would have perished along with her first opponent.

The remaining opponent was a middle-aged man with a resolute appearance, holding a shield in his left hand and a short sword in his right. He cautiously approached her in the standard defensive stance of a legionary soldier, his broad tower shield like an insurmountable high wall.

A probing attack, unsurprisingly, failed. The opponent's short sword, hidden behind the shield, was as dangerous as a venomous snake waiting to strike—nimble, swift, and elusive. Karila could only swiftly withdraw like a cat offering its paw, searching for a new opportunity.

The two axes in her hands were weapons provided by this arena. Unlike the battle axes used in battle, which are sharp and heavy, these axes were not only blunt but also significantly lighter, making it difficult for her to tear the shield apart with brute force. She could only carry the axes and look for openings.

Most people might feel anxious and tense in this situation, but Karila doesn't. For her, it's a rare enjoyment—not the kind of weakling who collapses at the slightest touch, but a real contest where someone can pose a threat to her, where both sides are probing each other and looking for an opportunity. This makes her feel like her whole body has come alive.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, then tensed his body and suddenly stepped forward with his right foot. This immediately triggered an instinctive reaction from his already tense opponent, who turned his shield to the right. Although the man realized something was wrong the next moment and managed to block the shield in time, the axe blade still struck the thinnest and most fragile side of the shield heavily, leaving a cracked dent.

He braced his shoulder against the side of the shield and launched a fierce charge with all his might, while his blunt-tipped short sword lay ready at his side, poised to strike at any moment... Then he saw his opponent actually jump slightly, push off his shield with one foot, and leap back a meter or two, creating distance between them.

One test after another, like dancing on a knife's edge, spinning on a tower... Every flaw could lead to defeat. Amidst the tension, confrontation, enticement, and defense, and amidst increasingly enthusiastic cheers and applause, the last person standing on this wide field is deciding the outcome.

Karila was like a ferocious and agile wolf. She nimbly darted around, occasionally leaving marks on sturdy shields with her sharp teeth and claws, attempting to break through her opponent's defenses and devour their succulent flesh.

Her opponent, a centurion from the army, also defended impenetrably. His shield was like a high wall, blocking all attacks and creating opportunities for his short sword to strike, ready to plunge its deadly fangs into the heart of his prey and win the highest honor for himself.

Once again, he pushed his opponent back with a fierce shield bash, only to find that his attack with a short sword thrust from the side of the shield was still ineffective. His opponent knew exactly what was important and even took the shield bash head-on to dodge the short sword.

Seeing that his attempt to lure the opponent had failed once again, the man calmly used his shield to protect himself again—he had already witnessed the opponent's astonishing stamina and brute force, and he absolutely could not reveal the slightest opening, otherwise he would inevitably face a barrage of heavy blows like a storm.

His opponent was just as patient as he was; the blonde Riggt woman was slowly circling him, forcing him to spin along with her to prevent any openings from falling into her opponent's hands...

The atmosphere was growing tense, something indescribable was being squeezed together, and it was expanding and about to explode. The audience's emotions were also rising, waiting for the moment when it would be completely ignited. Both of them knew that it was not far away.

With a crisp scraping and clanging sound from the chainmail, the man immediately perked up, adjusted his position, and prepared to meet another fierce charge and attack from his opponent.

He definitely felt the impact of the blow on the sturdy shield in his hand, but a crisp cracking sound made his confident expression freeze. The next instant, as the axe sank deep into the sturdy shield, a terrifying force erupted from it, and his reliable companion was instantly shattered into pieces, leaving only a fragment with a handle connected to a small piece of the shield in his hand...

Caught off guard, his short sword, which he barely managed to defend, was knocked heavily to the ground by the axe. He could only watch helplessly as another axe came crashing down on his face... In the instant he was knocked down, he clearly saw the deep dents on the edges of the scattered shield fragments on the ground, each one located at the joint of the wood, each one the most vulnerable spot... And the attack just now was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

In the blink of an eye, the outcome was decided. All the spectators stood up and cheered loudly, showering the wide arena with countless cheers for the final victor.

Karila raised her two axes high, a wild smile on her face, and laughed unrestrainedly, completely ignoring the sweat streaming down her forehead that irritated the wounds on her cheeks, causing waves of pain...

Chapter 217 The Battle of the Champions (1)

What an intense, magnificent, and glorious struggle this was! The clash of swords echoed endlessly in the arena. The cheers and fervent applause of the crowd roared like thunder, soaring to the heavens. Sweat, steel, and unwavering will were poured out here. This was a clash of courage, a contest of skill. There was no place for cowards here, no honor for the weak. It was a true battle for the pinnacle!

Victory after victory, shattering armor and shattering shields to bring enemies to their knees time and again, earning cheers and applause from the crowd time and time again, Karila had become the star of the arena. Many Imperials were eagerly discussing this fierce warrior from the north, marveling at her superb skills and ferocious strength.

One after another, renowned warriors from both the military and civilian sectors fell to her, succumbing to the intense and fierce competition. Victory seemed like a matter of course, easily claimed by her. She relentlessly squeezed out cheers and applause from the audience, driving their enthusiasm ever higher, until her name echoed throughout the arena.

Such praise and enthusiasm would be enough to make any warrior go crazy and lose his head over such unimaginable honor, but Karila maintained a very clear enthusiasm from beginning to end—the desire and joy of fighting against the strong always permeated every aspect of his being.

Amidst a string of victories, her name had become a favorite to win the championship; everyone in the city knew her, and people everywhere were talking about her. Almost everyone was excitedly discussing who this year's champion would be. Would it be one of the battle-hardened elite soldiers, or a warrior who had come from elsewhere?

………………

"I have to say, you did a really good job."

The glossy, oiled chainmail was stretched open and slipped over the inner red lining. The chainmail rings made a crisp clinking sound as they flowed down the curves of the body, covering the surface with just the right amount of looseness.

Karila raised her hands, allowing the servants to adjust any unsuitable parts, and then tied a sturdy leather belt around her waist, making the originally loose chainmail fit snugly and outlining her agile yet graceful figure.

Tersolius stood before her, watching the maids put armor on Karila, making the final preparations for her.

"This competition is unprecedented in scale, with many formidable opponents. Your performance has exceeded my expectations. I originally thought you would be defeated by those particularly tough guys... but you fought very intelligently and learned very quickly."

"Ha! Of course! I'm the most famous warrior in my hometown. I trained with my dad for two years, and he couldn't beat me!"

Seeing that the other party was about to become smug again, Thesolius smiled and shook his head:

"But it's not all that's done well. You always have a tendency to take risks and gamble your victory on luck. It's a choice made out of desperation, not a rash decision."

"You may be very confident in your strength, but you are not strong enough to ignore weapons hitting you. Today, your last opponent will require you to give it your all to have any chance of defeating him."

"He is a brave warrior of the Northern Military Region, and a tenacious and courageous soldier. We must not take him lightly in the slightest."

………………

The last piece of silver scale armor, with each scale edged in gold, was a gift from the emperor to reward her for her outstanding performance over the past few days—a private gift, of course, not to be made public.

By this time, she was fully armed from head to toe, with only a small area of ​​her face visible. Even her fingers were covered in chainmail gloves made of tough, interlocking rings.

Looking at the dashing and imposing Karila before him, listening to the eager cheers outside, and seeing the earnest look in her eyes, Tesolius hesitated slightly, then smiled.

"Go and win, prove yourself, prove to everyone, prove your strength and courage, prove that you deserve more, prove that you are qualified to stand next to me."

Karila grinned, her sharp teeth making her look as fierce as a hungry wolf. She thrust out her ample chest, hands on her hips, a triumphant air on her face.

"Of course!"

…………

"Champion! Champion! Champion!..."

"Warrior, look this way!!"

"Defeat this woman! Kalisi! Take the honor that is rightfully yours!"

"Defeat him! Karila! Show the strength befitting a centurion and prove the glory of the Golden Legion!!"

…………

The entire stands were in complete chaos. The huge arena, which could hold 8 people, was clearly exceeding its designed capacity. Every corner was filled with enthusiastic crowds, and all 70 rows of seats were packed, with not a single empty space.

Merchants, artisans, vendors, doctors… even soldiers gathered together, shouting and cheering for their favorite champion. Occasionally, conflicts would break out, causing small disturbances that were only calmed down by soldiers maintaining order.

Soldiers under Tersolius's command, whoever was able to get leave, took advantage of this rare opportunity to come here in civilian clothes to cheer on Nicot, a member of their legion who was quite capable in combat, hoping that the glory of the Imperial Championship would once again fall to the Golden Legion.

The soldiers of the Northern Military Region were clearly not going to give up easily. Many officers even managed to get here, and their cheers and shouts were exceptionally uniform and orderly, making them easy to distinguish from the crowd.

Everyone was eagerly anticipating today's champion, hoping to hear that glorious name. Even before the competition began, their noise was almost deafening, obscuring the sun from the sky with its cacophony of yellow dust.

Until a desolate and distant horn sounded, stirring up the falling dust and carrying far and wide, until the towering giant drum was struck forcefully by a strong soldier, the sound shaking the hearts of everyone present, the once noisy and bustling arena suddenly fell silent, everyone waiting for that exciting moment.

A master of ceremonies in a red robe appeared atop the most prestigious and towering grandstand. His voice, amplified by a special device, resonated loudly and far, reaching the ears of everyone present, even those in the most crowded corners near the arena entrance, unable to see the arena at all, could hear him clearly:

"Honorable and dignified people of the Empire! By His Majesty's command, I am honored to serve as the announcer for today's championship duel! We are all witnesses to this glorious duel, today! Under the witness of His Majesty and the Senate, and under the witness of all the citizens, we shall witness a new champion, a new Imperial champion, being born here!!"

The words had barely left his lips when a tidal wave of cheers erupted. Everyone was pounding on the railings, chairs, and anything else that could make a sound, cheering in unison.

"Champion! Champion! Champion!!!"

As the master of ceremonies raised his hand again, all the sounds vanished instantly, as if covered by something.

"We are about to witness a glorious moment! Please allow me to introduce our powerful and courageous championship candidate—"

The towering archway at the northernmost end was slowly pushed open by soldiers, and a strong, tall warhorse emerged, snorting loudly. The figure riding on horseback was fully armored, resembling an iron tower. In his right hand, he carried an iron spear ten feet long and as thick as a goose egg, while in his left hand was a round shield painted with sunflower patterns, large enough to cover his entire upper body.

"The glorious and formidable First Thousand-Man Commander of the Northern Legion, who has slain 186 barbarian heads and achieved numerous feats! Satriados Kalisi!"

The cheers, as loud as ocean waves, immediately overwhelmed the knight on horseback. Countless petals almost buried him completely. These flowers, which had cost a lot of money, were being generously scattered to welcome the warrior's arrival!

"And! His opponent—"

The tall archway on the south side opened again, and the tall and majestic Passatria warhorses strode out, nimbly carrying their heavy armored steeds and elite warriors, all fully armored and wielding the same long spears and shields.

"In his very first competition, he has fought his way through the competition, defeating numerous warriors and remaining undefeated until now—a warrior from the North! Turiat Carila! Let us welcome this warrior!!"

The cheers, no less enthusiastic than before, surged forth, even mixed with some women's screams, and large swaths of colorful petals were splashed down... Karila, somewhat impatient, kept reaching out to brush the petals off her helmet.

"Both of them are brave warriors who fought their way through the enemy lines! They are both victors who have defeated countless opponents, and today, the champion will be decided between them!"

"There are no complicated rules. This competition will be divided into two parts—horse combat and foot combat! It will continue until one side is unable to fight. If both fall at the same time, the one with the more serious injury will be the loser! Today, let us witness this together. Please prepare yourselves!!"

………………

The arena was spacious enough to accommodate hundreds of cavalrymen in a chaotic melee. In this crucial battle, there were few rules; the entire arena was their stage, their hunting ground to display their bravery and skill.

Whether it's direct confrontation or guerrilla warfare, both are permissible and honorable actions here... Of course, methods like grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it into the opponent's eyes are not allowed; everything can only be accomplished through the weapons in hand and the armor on one's body.

The duel will only come to an end when one side is completely incapacitated and knocked to the ground—a process that is by no means safe or reliable. In fact, even with sturdy and thick armor, there are always unlucky individuals who suffer severe injuries, either dead or wounded, in the annual tournaments.

But none of the Imperials who stand here, who appear in this arena, see anything wrong with it—war is inherently about bloodshed and death. While death in the arena is not an outcome everyone desires, it does not deter them from taking action.

A young man with a sharp, wiry face and short hair shaved almost to his scalp frowned as he looked at the two men poised to attack in the arena. After a slight hesitation, he turned to look at his companion beside him:

"I recall that Centurion Karila hasn't received any training in mounted combat! Her several outstanding victories were all achieved on foot, so this first mounted engagement might be disadvantageous for her..."

A gloomy middle-aged man with a hideous scar on his face smirked. Yuriedos wore a silk robe, the kind of short robe most common among the imperial people. If it weren't for his barely suppressed ferocity, one might mistake him for an ordinary, wealthy citizen.

“Take a close look at her movements in the stirrups… that’s not how a novice should act at all. She not only skillfully masters the techniques of riding a warhorse, but also has enough room to launch an attack from horseback. She’s not as vulnerable as you’re worried about. Don’t forget, she has been trained by the general.”

The young man suddenly understood. He watched as Karila skillfully maneuvered the reins, positioning her horse's head directly towards the enemy's right, ready to attack. Her opponent did the same, and the two immediately chose a head-on confrontation—the most bloody and dangerous kind of confrontation…

"Watch closely, kid. This is a battle between the most powerful warriors, a place you can't reach yet, until one day you can become such a valiant warrior yourself."

"Of course! I want to become a great person like my father."

Yuriedos reached out and put his arm around the young man's neck, laughing heartily as he explained everything that was happening to his son. At that moment, yellow smoke rose from the ground, and the sounds of men shouting and horses neighing filled the air; a fierce battle was about to begin.

………………

The cool wine in his glass gleamed softly. Thesolius rested his cheek on his hand, watching the vast arena as both sides finally prepared. At the command of the master of ceremonies, they spurred their horses into a charge, simultaneously bracing themselves for the attack and preparing to unseat their opponents.