Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

But he didn't move, so the people behind him didn't move either. Tori dismounted with great interest, squatted down, grabbed a smear of red snow from the ground between his fingers, smelled it, and then looked up into the distance—the red bloodstains continued to spread into the distance, interspersed with crooked footprints.

"This smells like deer blood... Let's go take a look."

He didn't explain why he did it, and the people behind him didn't ask either. The group of 15 rode forward at full speed through the dangerous area, and not one of them fell off their horse.

Snowflakes swirled into their hats, whitening their eyebrows and beards, leaving their freshly oiled faces feeling numb and stinging. They quickly traversed a short distance and soon spotted a bright fire ahead, simultaneously hearing the howls of wolves and the boy's desperate screams.

Their horses crossed the high slope and saw in the distance a small cave formed by several huge rocks, as well as the burning firewood at the cave entrance and the menacing wolves all around.

A thin boy stood at the entrance of the cave, holding a short knife that was only half the length of his arm, guarding his life and his prey... But what truly made the wolves wary was not the ridiculous knife in his hand, but the firelight created by the burning wood—now that firelight was visibly weakening, lacking fuel and unable to continue.

"He's a ruthless bastard."

Torid gave his assessment with a calm expression, but did not urge his warhorse to make any further moves, as if watching an interesting drama.

"Should we do something, Khan?"

"Don't rush, let's see what this kid is capable of."

………………

The charcoal fire in front of him was burning on the verge of collapse, and he had run out of fuel to throw in... The boy licked his dry lips; the taste of deer blood still lingered in his mouth. Behind him was the fresh meat wrapped in deer hide.

If he were to leave this meat to the wolves… the thought almost uncontrollably arose in his mind, but he firmly suppressed it—this meat was not enough to satisfy the wolves, they would not let him go, and besides, he was destined to starve to death without this meat, so why not just let the wolves bite him to death? At least he would die a quick death.

He silently wiped the knife in his hand on his sleeve again and again, trying to calm himself down while quietly waiting for the embers to burn out... wondering if he could kill one before he died.

Finally, the last flame died out in the crimson charcoal, quickly turning gray in the cold wind. The strongest alpha wolf at the front could no longer wait and, with several other male wolves, slowly approached him. The sharp teeth protruding from its lips were constantly grinding with the movement of its jaws, its gray fur bristled, and its amber wolf eyes gleamed with hunger.

He sniffed, licked his lips, and swallowed the mixture of snot and blood, putting the salty, fishy substance into his mouth. He then smacked his lips and gave a regretful look.

"Next time you should bake it thoroughly before eating it. You ate it too fast and didn't get to taste the flavor..."

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Chapter 303 Torid and the North (2)

"Roar! Roar roar roar!"

With a terrifying growl that sounded like something was stuck in his throat, a powerful male wolf lunged at him with all four limbs, its hardest part, its head, at the forefront, its mouth full of teeth as sharp as ice particles, eager to tear flesh apart... Once bitten, the powerful creature would frantically shake its head and pull at its limbs, tearing off a large mouthful of flesh along with bits of tendon.

His hand swiftly retracted, causing the wolf's sharp teeth, aimed at his wrist, to miss their mark. Immediately afterward, his left hand shot forward, digging his thumb deep into the wolf's dim, yellowish eye, drawing blood and a clear, sticky substance... but that was all. The knife in his right hand had barely pierced the flesh. The wolf jerked back, forcefully escaping his grasp.

But this still made the wolf pack retreat slightly out of fear... In this cold season, no wild beast would want to get hurt, as that often means weakness and death. The big male wolf was already furious and completely enraged. One of its eyes was a bloody hole from which blood was flowing. It was about to charge forward again without regard for anything else, but was stopped by the howl of the alpha wolf, which just rubbed its sharp teeth five steps away from him.

But this bought him very little time. Realizing that the prey still had the power to resist, the wolf pack immediately changed their strategy. Several strong male wolves approached together with the alpha wolf, preparing to attack simultaneously, pull him out and tear him apart.

This was it—the boy immediately realized this was his death sentence. Such perfect teamwork meant even a strong, adult man couldn't escape in this situation, let alone a mere boy like him…

With a howl from the alpha wolf, the other wolves received the command at the same time. Their sharp fangs gleamed white in the snow as they tore at his calves and wrists. The alpha wolf leaped up from the snow and fiercely bit at his throat, ready to succeed in an instant.

He gritted his teeth and forced his eyes wide open. At that moment, time seemed to slow down. He fearlessly raised the knife in his hand and thrust it downwards—he was practically offering his chest and abdomen to the hungry wolf to tear at, all for the sake of piercing the alpha wolf's head from above.

"Crack!!"

The hard steel pierced the bright eye, penetrating flesh, eyeball, nerves, lymph nodes, bones, and fur, emerging from the alpha wolf's jaw. Drops of blood splattered from the gaps in the flesh... but he had only stabbed a corpse.

Before that, a hail of arrows rained down like locusts, turning the three charging wolves into pincushions in the blink of an eye. The other wolves scattered and fled in disarray, leaving only a mess of paw prints on the snow in the blink of an eye.

The boy stared blankly at the wolf's carcass, not even drawing his knife, foolishly cradling the wolf's head. Finally realizing the arrows had come from ahead, he slowly raised his head—

Several horsemen, bows still in their hands, their fox-fur hats fluttering in the night wind, paced impatiently down the hillside, their warhorses puffing out white breaths.

He froze like a statue, but the riders opposite him simply rode over slowly and began to skin the wolves with knives—even though the skins already had many holes, they were not entirely useless.

The riders paid no attention to him, as if they had only killed the wolves for their pelts. This made him secretly relieved. He cautiously drew his knife and retreated... The so-called hole was very shallow, not even big enough to fit a second person. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been standing at the entrance, risking his life.

Whether it was wolf skin or wolf meat, these people had no intention of wasting it. After quickly processing it, they placed it on the horse's back, then silently mounted their horses, as quiet as a few dead men.

Just as they were about to leave, the man in the lead suddenly turned to look at the boy:

"Which tribe are you from? Are you the only man left in the tent?"

The boy swallowed hard, ultimately daring not to refuse to answer.

“It’s from Saqito. I’m the only one left in the tent. Basa (my father) went south a few years ago and never came back. I heard that the imperial people cut off his head and took our last horse with them.”

The man nodded, then suddenly his brow furrowed:

"Do you want to be a soldier? A soldier who can get enough to eat?"

"To have enough to eat? Of course I want to!"

Without any hesitation, he gave the answer almost instinctively, his entire being radiating a yearning for this wish, even his hands and feet trembling.

"As long as my mother and I can have enough to eat, I'll even lick your boots! We'll be your slaves, as long as we have enough to eat..."

The hunger in his stomach began to torment him again. The heart he had just eaten seemed to have played its last role and could no longer satisfy him. The hunger that had haunted him since childhood, like a maggot clinging to his bone, was making a comeback.

"I don't need you to lick my boots..."

Toridu glanced at the boy again, then suddenly reached behind the saddle, pulled out a short bow, and threw it at him.

"Take this bow. If you want to be a warrior and have enough to eat, come to the Khan's tent and prove to me that you are worthy of holding this bow and are a brave man. Otherwise, I will cut your throat and take the bow back."

No one spoke, only the snow dust kicked up by the galloping horses' hooves. The boy left behind picked up the bow from the ground, stroked the finely crafted bow arm wrapped in birch bark, and slowly tightened his grip on the cork handle.

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

"Come and see! This stove is sturdy and warm. Just put some charcoal in, and it'll keep your tent warm all day!! Nobody wants to freeze to death, right? Now you can get a new tent for just three wolf pelts!!"

"Arrows forged from hard steel! Piercing cowhide is like piercing paper! One fox pelt for three, one fox pelt for three, only the finest fox pelts!!"

"Salt that's salty enough! Absolutely nothing added!"

"Top-quality tea! A whole brick of it, enough to last all winter! I'd trade any lean sheep for the best!"

…………

Before me lay a bustling market, a scene of immense prosperity. Many well-dressed merchants were setting up their stalls, most of them with pale yellow hair, fair but rough skin, blue-gray or grass-green eyes, and wide-brimmed hats. They looked completely different from the Kiel people who lived here.

These were merchants from Western countries who brought in invaluable supplies for the Kiel people living in the harsh north through various means. Although the prices were high, they were still very popular and would elicit cheers from any tribe.

Although most of them were arrogant and the trading process was not exactly fair, it was still acceptable for people who were extremely short of certain supplies. Moreover, since they were friends declared by the Khan, no one dared to harm them.

Tolidu arrived here with his harvest. The tents stretched all the way to the foot of the distant mountains, all made of thick, warm wool felt. Clearly, the herders living here are wealthy in some way, which is why they can live so comfortably and decently.

Along the way, people would always bow to him when they saw him, but Tori was no longer the spirited man he once was. Now, he had a dull feeling no matter what he did... especially when he passed through this area and saw the tents on the side of the mountain.

Compared to these sturdy and warm wool felt tents, that other tent looked particularly dilapidated, making one wonder if most of them would collapse in a gust of cold wind. Living inside would undoubtedly be freezing, and rats and insects could easily invade and breed inside.

...And that was the place where his people, his tribe, lived. Those people, as destitute as beggars, with hardly any livestock, were his people.

He glanced at it once and dared not look again, afraid that he would be overwhelmed by terrible negative emotions. He hurriedly turned his horse around and headed down the mountain towards the magnificent camp made up of five tents, with a drawn bow and a crossed scimitar on the flagpole.

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

This is a strong man.

No matter who it is, everyone will have this impression when they first see him, and it will be deeply engraved in their minds from then on, difficult to change or forget.

Warm, thick cotton fabric was sewn onto the outside of the wolf skin. The man's clothes were covered with gorgeous patterns, and one could easily make out several familiar birds, beasts, and flowers. They made his already broad-shouldered and thick-chested body look like a bear.

He wasn't tall, but he was extremely muscular, with a tendency to grow horizontally. The muscles in his face were as hard and square as rocks, and with his messy beard and hair, his head really looked like a square stone overgrown with weeds.

A crown made of gold, jade, rubies, pearls, agates, and other precious jewels was placed on his head. It looked so magnificent that it seemed to be shining, but it didn't match his messy, rough head at all. It was like putting a woven wreath on a pile of dung, which always looked out of place.

In addition, his sturdy boots, made of thick cowhide, were embroidered with colorful patterns, his belt was inlaid with gold plates and gemstones, and even his scabbard was inlaid with pearls and jade... Overall, this man looked both powerful and exuded a very rigid sense of wealth.

This is the Khan of the Kiel, the man who stepped forward to lead the Kiel after the old Khan was beheaded by the Empire. At this moment, he is eating roasted mutton and drinking warm wine, served by two beautiful women, sitting on a soft sheepskin blanket and enjoying the warmth of the charcoal fire.

Torid was only allowed to enter alone, and even before entering, his dagger and scimitar were taken away—the Khan's treasured sword was now hanging on the tent post behind the man, which he had offered up to curry favor with him.

"Ah, my good Toda (brother)! The cold wind outside looks like it has chilled your bones. Come here and warm yourself up. I've just learned how to make a charcoal fire. I'll have the servants bring you some meat soup."

The other person seemed to only notice him now, and greeted him with a rather enthusiastic attitude, inviting him to sit down next to him, but still embracing and stroking the two beautiful women.

Tori hesitated for only a fleeting moment before a smile immediately appeared on his face, a smile so warm and sincere… even more sincere than when he saw his father, who had been dead for over a decade.

"Haha, my dear brother, your enthusiasm always overwhelms me, and it's almost making me anxious."

The two men had very warm smiles on their faces. After exchanging a few words, a servant brought over steaming hot mutton soup. A leg of roasted lamb, which was spinning on the charcoal fire, was also cut off and placed in front of him, with the juices from the meat seeping into the wooden plate.

Add to that a cup of freshly poured, still steaming, fine wine from a silver pot… Just looking at these things made his stomach rumble, and the fatigue and hunger accumulated from two days of travel suddenly exploded. Under the other person’s meaningful gaze, he began to eat without any hesitation.

He tore off large, juicy pieces of the roasted, golden-brown lamb leg, dipped them in a sauce made with chive blossoms and salt, and chewed them, the juices wetting his mustache.

He then downed most of a bowl of broth in one gulp, savoring the powdery texture of the plant roots and stems, feeling the warmth spreading through his limbs. As he pulled open his robe, he also picked up his wine glass and downed it in one go. Only then did he let out a long sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing.

"Pour more wine for my brother! You lackeys have no brains whatsoever, you're all incredibly stupid!"

Tori didn't refuse at all, and watched as the servant filled the wine glass, then drank half of it in one gulp.

"Keep eating, my brother. Once you've eaten and drunk your fill, I have something to discuss with you."

Sure enough—he showed no surprise whatsoever, continuing to drink and eat meat with a friendly smile, tearing strips of meat from the bone with his fingers, popping them into his mouth as he chewed, the juices splashing everywhere, before gulping them down with hot wine.

"Please speak. I'm a dog with a big appetite. No matter how much I talk, it won't stop me from eating. Don't waste your time."

The Khan opposite him narrowed his eyes slightly, waved his hand to dismiss the two women, and then lowered his voice slightly to speak:

"I heard you fought against that Tersolius..."

Chapter 304 Western Countries and the North (1)

"A bunch of damn lunatics!..."

A whisper that could almost be called a curse crept out of Torid's throat, but it did nothing to affect the smile on his lips. He still looked cheerful and conveyed a friendly and harmless message.

But his mind was filled with a tremendous sense of surprise, absurdity, and anger, and even his ability to think was momentarily suppressed; he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

He almost felt a sense of superiority over his own intelligence… What he had just heard was absurd and laughable, full of arrogant and self-righteous stupidity, and that self-righteous plan—God above, were they really serious?! Or were they putting on a show for him?

In silence, surrounded by his entourage, Torid left the vicinity of the Khan's tent, passing through mountain ridges and sturdy, warm tents, past respectable herders, and finally plunged into his own dilapidated camp.

Leading thirteen tribes on a migration was no easy task, but fortunately he had made a proper plan in advance—taking advantage of the fact that the northern mountains had not yet frozen over, he drove cattle and sheep to pull carts during the relatively warm season, leading a large group of warriors and organizing several thousand men... to escape in time before the imperial people extended their swords to the north.

This is a feat unimaginable for a coward without perseverance and courage, yet he accomplished it, and without too many casualties in the process, successfully reaching the north where the Kiel people live.