Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

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A pair of sharp eyes slowly opened and closed in the jungle, repeating this several times until the dryness in his eyes was finally relieved. The thick fur on his body kept his body warm by shielding him from the dampness of the jungle.

A series of dense and muffled sounds suddenly came from afar. The mountain man immediately focused his attention. After the group of arrogant Holstein cavalry passed by, the mountain man, who had been hiding in the shadow between two rocks without even being disturbed by birds, slowly stood up.

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He slowly turned the military knife in his hand, letting the bright blade reflect the sunlight shining through the forest. A dazzling, cold light flashed across the surrounding trees like a swimming fish, then abruptly stopped on the thick cloth of the tent.

After wiping away the excess grease from his longsword one last time, Tersolius stood up and swung his hand to sheath the sword.

The cavalrymen waited silently behind him, their bright, heavy armor concealing them from the sunlight. Their warhorses were well-fed and full of energy.

"start."

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Chapter 39 Surprise Attack (2)

The heavy chain hammer swung down, and the Holsian man, his face filled with panic, tried to block it with his sword. However, the silver chain wrapped around the hilt of his sword, and the heavy hammerhead drew a short arc before striking his wrist. With a muffled thud, the hand that was tightly gripping the sword immediately loosened.

With another forceful pull, the tangled chain dragged the Holstein man to the ground, and the chain with the hammerhead loosened completely in that instant.

The wobbly chain hammer, stained with blood and bits of flesh, was lifted slightly before crashing down heavily.

"I surrender! I surrender! Please spare my life! I am Hills, the lord of Alpert! ...son of Hills! You can use me to exchange for a large ransom. I guarantee my father will give you more money than you can spend in a lifetime!!"

Perhaps when people are facing life and death, they really do unleash their full potential. The Hols man in front of him said all of this in just two seconds, and his sentences were clear and fluent, without a single wrong word.

Alka frowned as he looked at the Hols man. He didn't know what was wrong with the man... He challenged him first, but then surrendered so readily... If he was afraid of dying, why didn't he surrender in the first place?

But after glancing at his opponent's shattered wrist, he realized that since the other party was the city lord's son, he should indeed spare his life.

Alka untied his whip and used the supple leather to tightly bind the other man's injured wrist and arm together. Then, grabbing his arm with one hand, he dragged him towards the end of the valley.

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As the bright green cloak was dragged along, it was immediately soaked with fresh blood. The shrill screams and desperate howls never stopped, and the thunderous hoofbeats of the warhorses rang out wave after wave, each time accompanied by even more miserable and chilling screams.

This small valley nestled among the mountains has now been transformed into a horrific slaughterhouse, and the Holstein cavalry, drawn here by the trail, are the prey to be slaughtered...

The terrifying armored cavalry was like a sharp knife, cutting through the remaining corners of their formation, making the rest more vulnerable and easily defeated, each time leaving behind a large number of severed limbs and desperate screams.

The horses' hooves were washed with blood several times over. Any resistance they made was ruthlessly crushed head-on by the armored cavalry, time and time again, mercilessly, leaving them no chance to resist.

The dense rain of arrows shot from both sides of the valley was a relentless process of reaping their lives from the very beginning, like the scythe of death, taking away a large number of lives each time.

These accurate and deadly heavy arrows, under the cover of armored cavalry, seemed to have eyes. Often, a man would be hit in the face by an arrow and fall off his horse silently. The panicked warhorse would escape from the jaws of death, but the men would be mercilessly shot to death by the hail of arrows.

He didn't know how many people were still alive, but he knew how many were dead... Corpses wrapped in green cloaks filled the entire valley, and death was whispering in his ear.

Those terrifying cavalrymen carved through the air time and time again, leaving behind a trail of blood and gore. The sounds of sharp weapons piercing flesh and blunt instruments breaking bones were incessant. Terrifying screams pierced his ears like sharp wooden thorns, each one causing his heart to clench violently. The young man was almost completely destroyed by the immense fear.

His knees dragged across the gravelly ground. Protected by his chainmail, he felt no pain, but a numb, frozen sensation spread through him. The humiliation of being dragged like a pig, the despair of being cornered, the fear of being psychologically destroyed, and the grief of seeing his soldiers die—all these complex emotions surged within him…

His emotions, like a burst dam, could no longer be contained. Tears washed away the scabs on his face, dripping onto the ground and creating ripples in the still-wet pools of blood. Overwhelmed by fear and grief, he bit his lip tightly, trying to suppress a sound and preserve his last shred of dignity…

Just yesterday, when they stormed out of the city gates, they were so full of vigor and swagger... At that time, he almost thought that nothing in the world could stop him, riding his white steed like the wind across the fields...

But in the blink of an eye, their corpses had filled this desolate land. Hungry beasts would feed on their flesh, and the lush weeds would grow on their blood, just like a flock of terrified sheep falling into the hands of a pack of hungry tigers...

He wished the journey could be longer, or better yet, that he would never have to reach it in his lifetime, so that he would never have to face such a terrible scene again.

But then, with a sudden shove from the hand gripping his arm, he fell heavily onto the stones, and a tall, dark shadow completely enveloped him...

The excruciating pain from his shattered wrist and the immense psychological blow left him completely unable to stand up. Several attempts to get up only resulted in his forehead being rubbed raw and bloody against the stone, with tears mixed with blood streaming down his face.

Like an ugly maggot, struggling desperately for the hope of survival, he never felt so shameful and lowly, just like those lowly slaves.

Seemingly annoyed by his behavior, the large hand grabbed his cloak again and dragged him up from the ground. His legs were still stiff and numb, making it almost impossible for him to stand. It took a lot of effort for him to keep from falling.

And he finally saw the man in front of him...

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This is the master of the pride of lions...

When the Holstein man saw those eyes that gleamed with a cold light like swords, his first thought was...

What terrifying majesty and imposing presence! Just looking into his eyes made one's knees involuntarily go weak, and only by kneeling down could one relieve this pressure, unable to muster even a shred of courage to confront him.

A slight sense of relief washed over him… Seeing that the person who had destroyed them was this kind of person, he suddenly found it less unbearable. It was as if sheep were born to scatter before a lion; their defeat seemed inevitable…

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The Hols, having suffered heavy losses, were left with only 183 prisoners. Each of them had lost the courage to resist. They let out mournful cries and begged for mercy, burying their faces in the ground. Their weapons had been thrown aside, and they allowed the cavalry and mountain men to tie their hands and feet.

Thesoris, walking amidst the pool of blood, wore a smile, like a child who had found a very straight stick and was eager to put it to use.

P.S.: I had already finished writing this chapter, but I accidentally pressed Ctrl+W and closed the webpage. When I quickly reopened it, not a single word was left →)╥﹏╥). ...I was so angry I almost died, my Dao heart almost collapsed... I can't write on the website anymore, it's too dangerous.

Chapter 40 Sudden Shock

The soil in spring has been turned over several times and has become soft, making it the perfect time to sow seeds.

One grain of wheat after another was scattered into the soil and then carefully covered. The farmer's rough, scarred hands dared not be negligent in the slightest. He covered each seed by hand. The weather had been rather dry these past two days, and there had been no rain. The soil was actually not moist enough for the seeds to survive.

But the lords above couldn't wait any longer. They couldn't tolerate their slaves dawdling like this, and they couldn't understand why such a small task hadn't been completed in two days.

As punishment, their tools were taken away, and they were required to plant the seeds today...

Touching the dry soil, the slave knew all too well how many of the seeds would survive if planted like this. ... The only way was to water the soil as much as possible after planting, but under the sun, the land would soon dry up again...

He had no choice. Although most of the grain would be taken away, what remained was his only way to survive and feed his family. He had to make the seeds sprout and the crops bear fruit.

He slowly poured water from the river onto the ground using two wooden buckets. Hunger was tormenting his stomach, and he felt weak and sore all over, but he dared not stop for a moment. What was growing in the soil was not a seed, but life itself—fragile yet necessary to continue.

Caravans of all sizes continuously entered and left the city, carrying large quantities of grain to other places affected by war or famine. This way, they could more than double their money.

Even after deducting the costs of hiring guards and purchasing supplies, one can still make a lot of money.

The city was so bustling, with all sorts of flags flying atop the city walls, and the marble walls as white and gleaming as clouds, but it had nothing to do with them...

The grain they grew was taken away by merchants cart after cart, leaving the villagers barely able to survive on the meager amount left. In other words, it was a blessing from their masters that they were allowed to live.

He couldn't let his mind wander anymore... otherwise he would neglect his work, and even if he didn't get whipped by his master, he would die of hunger.

The two wooden buckets were huge and heavy, with a wooden pole running through the middle and protruding iron nails to prevent them from sliding. He and his wife could carry the two buckets of water together, and the two buckets of water could irrigate 1/20 of the land.

To ensure all the seeds survive, they had to water them three times in a row...

Despite his best efforts, a lot of water still spilled from the wooden bucket, making the uphill slope along the riverbank extremely slippery. To prevent himself from falling, he simply didn't wear his simple straw sandals and stepped barefoot onto the gravel ground by the river.

Years of hard work, and the thick calluses that have formed on his feet, mean he won't get injured or bleed.

And so it went, one after another, until the land was gradually covered in a moist color. When he looked up, the first place he had watered had already returned to its whitish color.

He let out a long breath, as if squeezing something out of his lungs. Just as he and his wife were about to fetch water from the river again, they suddenly heard the rapid sound of horses' hooves approaching from the road…

A cavalryman, his face covered in blood, frantically whipped his warhorse. His comrades were in the same state, all terrified. The whips in their hands had already turned the horses' rumps into a bloody mess, but they still felt it wasn't enough and kept urging them on.

The once pristine, embroidered green cloak was now stained with blood. The shocking, glaring red made the slave's eyes widen. As if by instinct, he suddenly sensed that something was about to happen...

The soldiers guarding the gate stared in disbelief at the knights. How could they, who had been so radiant just yesterday, have become like this? But they quickly cleared the way, allowing the merchants' caravans to wait aside.

These disheveled cavalrymen charged desperately through the city gates, shouting in panic, each speaking their own words in a jumbled mess, making it impossible for others to understand what they were trying to say.

They rode their horses recklessly, rampaging through the city's central square, before tumbling and scrambling to their feet. Only then did they regain some composure and begin shouting in unison a phrase that sent the entire city into chaos…

"The Imperials are coming! The Imperials are coming! The Imperial cavalry has reached this place!"

The few dozen or so cavalrymen ignored the bustling market, but the nobles and merchants in the city hurriedly surrounded them, bombarding them with questions, each with a look of panic on their face.

When they heard the news of the impending war, these slave owners, who had previously lived a life of luxury and ease, suddenly felt their hearts skip a beat. It was as if an innate instinct was driving them to seek out more information.

"What happened? You were only gone for a day! How did you end up like this?!"

"What on earth happened to you?! Where is the Imperial army? Where are the others? Where is my son?!"

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The cavalrymen were already at a loss, unsure of what to do. They were further blocked by these nobles and merchants, who were of high status, leaving them with no choice but to offer their explanations.

When they recounted the horrific scenes they encountered in the valley, the cavalrymen, who had been filled with tension, suddenly became fearful and sorrowful, with some even bursting into tears in the square, disregarding their image.

The survivors spoke unclearly, yet their words sent chills down the spines of everyone who heard them…

Humanity's wondrous imagination played a crucial role at this moment, with everyone arriving at their own version of the answer, which in turn plunged the entire city into chaos.

Merchants who were still doing business hurriedly packed up their stalls and transported their goods to a safe place.

Citizens who were still buying food began to scramble for items in the market. Soldiers guarding the city were mobilized under orders from their superiors.

Pots, pans, and other miscellaneous items were scrambled together across the city. Everyone was blaming each other out of fear and panic, and dozens of violent incidents broke out in an instant. There were also those who took advantage of the chaos to loot and plunder...

Some of the elderly people turned pale, realizing the terrible disaster that was about to strike—not the Imperial troops who had yet to appear, but the city that was already in turmoil…

No one knows what's going on, but once such unrest occurs in a city, it doesn't take long for it to escalate into a terrible riot. Those normally mild-mannered and polite neighbors will turn into lawless mobs, wantonly setting fires and looting throughout the city…

Just as the city garrison was preparing to take action, their colleagues on the city wall suddenly cried out in panic:

"Cavalry approaching! Cavalry approaching! At least 1000 men!!"

The city fell completely silent, and everyone stared at him blankly…

Chapter 41 Capturing the City (1)

The silence lasted only a moment, then even more piercing screams and shouts exploded throughout the city. Everyone scurried around like headless flies.

The elderly, with their white hair, knelt in a corner of the square, weeping and begging for Ephesus's mercy to keep them away from the calamities of war.

Two men were fighting over who got to own a loaf of bread, with their wives cheering them on, until one of them grabbed a bread knife and slashed the other’s neck, causing the onlookers to scatter in fear.

Finally realizing their duty, the garrison soldiers brandished their whips, driving the noisy crowd back to their homes. The man who had just committed murder was also captured and sent to the dungeon, where the rats would bite off his nose and ears.

Once the city's unrest had finally subsided, the large group of cavalry finally came into view...

The first thing that caught their eye was a bright helmet stained with blood and a green cloak. The soldiers on the city wall immediately cheered, thinking that the knights they had sent out had returned victorious... But the cheers were terribly short-lived, because they had already seen just how pitiful the number of knights wearing green cloaks really was.

Yesterday's dazzling cavalry force numbered 500 men, but now only 100 terrified and desperate soldiers remain, each discarding their spears and keeping only a short sword. They have even reduced their armor to just a close-fitting short armor and a helmet for protection.

They're just a bunch of unlucky survivors; they didn't achieve any victory whatsoever...