Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Having grown up on the grasslands, Tori knew one thing very well—what kept his neighbors at bay was never friendship, but the knife in his hand. As long as you held a sharp scimitar, they wouldn't dare covet your cattle and sheep… This principle also applied when visiting someone else's land.

As long as he still controls those men wielding swords and bows, for the Khan of this place, using force to coerce him is not a worthwhile deal... After all, although he and his people from the east are no match for the Kiel, they will definitely have to pay a heavy price if they want to conquer him.

In this situation, by actively expressing one's intention to pledge allegiance and submission to the other party, one can gain the most leeway... After all, a wolf willing to hunt for you can always turn into a dog, and forcibly strangling Piso around its neck might result in having its arm torn off.

Even so, he remained unperturbed—there was no shortage of land here, vast tracts of uninhabited land were everywhere, but apart from land, there was basically nothing else lacking…

Almost every year there is a white disaster, big or small. A blizzard can cover the entire grassland overnight. At the worst time, cattle and sheep will freeze to death one after another. Without these things to live on, people will also die... Here, human life is cheaper than grass. A tribe may be reduced to only a few people after a white disaster. They live both fragile and tenaciously.

His men had never been to such a harsh place before, and almost all of them complained bitterly—especially after the snowfall in the past two days, even the grasslands were covered with a hard layer of snow, and if they wanted the cattle and sheep to graze, they had to bring in a large herd of horses to trample it over the ground…

This was something they had never encountered in the East before. Although the land there was barren, it had never experienced such a harsh climate. Everything here seemed to be working against them, making it difficult for them to survive.

Winter had just begun, and many of the tribes that had come with him were already considering retreating—the cold here made them miss their relatively lush and fertile homeland even more, to the point that it was almost unbearable.

After all, everything is subject to comparison... Back then, they were afraid of the empire's cruel methods and followed the Khan from the eastern grasslands to this place, fearing retaliation and oppression, and living a hard life... But now they are living under someone else's roof, and their hard life is no less, and it is much more difficult than before.

Tori knew perfectly well what this meant—without the support of his people, he was nothing, even lower than a toothless old dog… Coupled with the incoherent ramblings and subtle pressure from the Kiel Khan and the weasel-like Westerner, he was now in a life-or-death situation, and the slightest misstep would lead to utter ruin.

His strong fingers slowly reached for the curved sword at his waist, and a strange light gleamed in his bright, sharp, wolf-like eyes. Something dangerous and sensitive began to awaken within him.

Even if he's no longer a Khan, even if he's just an old dog, he still has a mouthful of sharp teeth... If he's really pushed to the limit, those teeth should find a chance to gnaw on some meat, shouldn't they?

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

The harsh winter cold was no exception for the port. The port of Skjold was covered in a layer of white snow. The cold weather made it impossible for the city guards to grip their spears tightly. They shivered and put their hands inside their clothes to warm them, complaining about the damned weather.

The stone-paved road was extremely dangerous today—the morning fog from the sea collided with the winter chill, covering the entire western part of the city with a layer of ice. Not to mention two-legged people walking on it, even four-legged horses would slip on it. They had to spread ash mixed with coal ash on it to make it barely passable, but people still fell from time to time.

Some unlucky people might even break their arms or legs as a result, and they would have to find someone to set their bones in order to avoid becoming disabled. Therefore, most people would choose to stay indoors in such awful weather, at least the house, though cold and damp, would prevent them from breaking a few bones.

Even in this weather, the number of ships at the port did not decrease much, and workers were still unloading cargo there. Huge draft horses with rough, thick winter coats pulled carriages in and out. The coachmen behind the horses wrapped themselves in fur and cotton cloth, and the force of their whips was weakened. When they hit the thick coats, they could only kick up a cloud of dust.

There were few pedestrians on the street, but some people always attracted attention—three or four burly men walked slowly down the street, each with a variety of weapons hanging from their waists. Swords, knives, axes, and hammers were all attached to iron rings with leather straps. Although they looked haphazard, they were very convenient to use and could be grasped in the blink of an eye.

Compared to their weapons, their protective gear was much simpler. Only the burly man with a full beard at the head wore a chainmail with a lamellar vest over it. Most of the others wore padded armor with a simple leather armor or a vest-style lamellar chainmail. Everyone had a helmet, but the quality varied greatly. The worst one looked like he had an iron bowl on his head, which didn't even protect the back of his head.

It would be unimaginable in the Empire for a group of armed and armored personnel to walk so casually down the street—there, within minutes a large group of soldiers would come up to question them, and if they couldn't produce proper official proof, they would be taken down and imprisoned in an instant.

But here, neither the soldiers on guard nor the passing citizens paid much attention to them, as if these guys who looked like they were not to be trifled with were just a group of ordinary passersby... In fact, that was pretty much the case—they were all mercenaries.

Mercenaries are a common sight throughout the Western countries, where eleven kingdoms and duchies of varying sizes exist. They frequently clash with each other for various reasons, often resorting to war to resolve their conflicts.

Under normal circumstances, the cost of maintaining a standing army is beyond the reach of any single country; it would drain every gold coin and grain of food that lords and kings had plundered from the common people.

In comparison, hiring an army with money when needed and settling their wages periodically is undoubtedly much more cost-effective. Moreover, as long as you are willing to pay, you can quickly recruit experienced soldiers, which is much easier than training and preparing yourself. You may not even be able to defeat those hired by others—after all, that's how mercenaries make a living.

This is why mercenaries are very common here. Sometimes wars are even fought entirely by mercenaries, without any involvement of the lord's army. Mercenaries will also abandon their employers without hesitation when the employers cannot pay them. Sometimes a mercenary who has fought for one army in the morning will run to the other side in the afternoon because he has not received his pay and will fight his former comrades without hesitation.

Young people in both rural and urban areas also favor this profession—it's lucrative and filled with the swords and battles that young men crave. They often only see the famous mercenary groups that rise to the top, making a fortune every day, while ignoring those who fail to make it and die tragically on the battlefield, rotting into mud, with no one even to collect their bodies.

This port city is a hotbed for mercenaries. Merchant caravans and ships coming and going always need to hire guards for themselves, and lords and kings who have agreed on prices also need a quick and convenient way to send their hired soldiers to the battlefield. In this era, nothing is more cost-effective and efficient for transporting soldiers in large numbers than large ships sailing at sea.

This place is teeming with mercenaries and mercenary brokers... The latter are relatively rare, and they often handle large-scale deals, responsible for hiring large numbers of nobles in need. They are indispensable in every war, just like the lubricant on a carriage axle.

The group of four or five made their way through the sparsely populated streets and finally arrived at their destination—a tavern with a sign depicting mermaids entwined with wine bottles. From the sealed windows came bursts of noise, the clinking of beer glasses and the faint strains of a bard’s song.

The sound only fueled their desire, and as the leader pushed open the tavern door, the others filed in, their heads disappearing into the stench of sweat, alcohol, and the scorching heat of the fire.

This place is a mixed bag, with all sorts of people. You can spot several vendors, drunkards, and prostitutes at a glance. If someone gets drunk and vomits here, the others will dump him on the street outside, and it's not impossible for them to steal his money in the process.

Stepping on the greasy, twisted floor, they made their way through the noisy crowd and headed straight for a table in the corner. Only one person was sitting around the round table, with two candles lit on it. It was as if there was some invisible barrier around them, and no one came near.

The leader had a thick head of messy blond hair, which was not as shiny and textured as blond hair, and was more likely to remind people of the messy withered grass by the roadside in autumn. However, his beard was shaved very short, with only a short layer outlining a black outline. His eyes were bright but small, and his nose was broad and flat.

He went to the table, pulled out a chair, sat down, took off his dome-shaped helmet and placed it at his feet, took out two coins and threw them into the plate of the maid next to him. Soon someone brought them a glass of ale, still frothy.

The wine here is cleaner than the water... Anyone who has stayed here for a while can figure that out. The well water here is bitter and astringent. Many years ago, a scholar pointed out that this was because a huge mountain of dung piled up next to the city wall polluted the underground water source, which is why the well water in this city is bitter and hard to swallow... But no one believed his nonsense. The respectable citizens were unwilling to lose the convenience of dumping dung, so they tied him to a sick donkey and drove him out.

However, the well water was still hard to drink, so people gradually got used to drinking the brewed wine. People came to support the business from morning till night, making the place a lively and bustling social place.

"I hope you really have a big deal this time, Heinrich. You've already fooled us twice. If you do it twice more, I'll have to put a sack over your head in the middle of the night, tie a rope to your feet, attach a rusty anchor to the other end, and send you to live with mermaids in the sea... Of course, you'll have to be able to find those legendary mermaid women."

The man's first words were quite unfriendly, and at that moment, the people waiting around him raised their heads, revealing a hairy, lewd face. The nose hairs and beard growing from that prominent nose blended together, giving the impression that he was not a kind person at first glance.

"Don't worry, Diyul, this is definitely a big deal. You can keep the fish-tailed women for yourselves on this voyage. Don't forget to tell me what it's like to have fun with them."

The mercenary looked interested and grunted twice through his nose.

"Going out to sea? You mean... we're going quite far this time?"

"Of course it's far, and the pay is good but the time commitment is long—at least a year... So, what do you think? Want to take it?"

Chapter 305 Western Countries and the North (2)

With a thud, the sturdy oak cup slammed onto the table. Neither of the two hard pieces of wood could withstand the other; only a little of the layer of grease on the cup was rubbed off, and the foam of the ale inside spilled out, wetting a small patch of the table.

The mercenary leader, his face grim, picked up his glass and took a sip. He savored the unique, dark liquid bursting in his mouth. The wine here was cloudy and tasted mediocre, but its advantage lay in its cheap price. Anyone—even a beggar—could get a glass; everyone could afford it.

If they were willing to spend a few more copper coins, they could ask for some salted chickpeas or other snacks to go with their drinks, making them even more palatable. If they had a little more money, they could ask the maids and the tavern owner to serve them a proper meal. The best-off mercenaries almost always got to enjoy tender roasted meat and stewed meat soup... But mercenaries like theirs, who were neither particularly successful nor unsuccessful, could only afford some cheap smoked meat and sausages, as well as mushy bean soup.

They need to splurge a little today, after all, they're about to close a big deal, and even if it's just to boost morale, they can't drink as little as they usually do.

Soon, chunks of meat skewered on thick iron skewers were served, along with a large plate of pickled beans. The group ate with gusto, their mouths greasy, and drank one glass of wine after another. They quickly blended into the atmosphere of the tavern, arm in arm, while continuing their conversation.

"Who exactly is the employer? You need to tell me that clearly, otherwise we won't even know where we're going to die."

"Of course, don't worry, this is indeed a good job—the king and great lords of the Kingdom of Salanod in the east are all taking care of mercenaries. This time they're recruiting together, the number is quite large, and they're very generous with the pay. There should be a big battle going to be fought, but I wonder which kingdom will be unlucky..."

Diyul nodded, pondering to himself... The success of a mercenary group like theirs largely depended on the decisions made by their leader. Sometimes they could make a fortune, while other times they could completely ruin themselves... He had to assess the risks and rewards carefully, unlike those hotheads who foolishly accepted any job they heard about.

Although they are people who make a living through war, they still need to be careful not to fall into the games of those big shots... that's no fun at all.

"Can you be more specific? Where exactly are we going to fight? I can't take on this task if I don't understand this."

The agent's hairy face furrowed slightly, and Dijul knew this was a sign that he was thinking, so he wasn't in a hurry. He downed another glass of wine, feeling the slight euphoria churning up from the back of his head... Then he threw the glass in the middle of the table—meaning he didn't need any more wine. After all, a little to quench his thirst was fine, and it was better to stay sober for what he was about to do.

"To be honest, I can't be too sure for you. Diyul... this time it's definitely a big deal. All the agents in the city have probably taken on this job. You might not see any mercenaries here in a couple of days... what you're getting involved in is definitely not a small matter."

Diyul nodded, waiting for the other person to continue speaking.

"Of course, there is definitely danger. No matter what you do, there is danger in your line of work... Even those famous mercenary groups, do you think their leaders can say that they can make money every time without losing their lives? So there is no need to be too timid."

"What's more, so many people are going this time, and several large mercenary groups have taken on this job, so you don't have to worry about being ripped off by those noble lords... Of course, the most important thing is that they can pay in advance! A quarter of the price for a year! You can't find better conditions anywhere else."

The people around him who were busy drinking suddenly stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him with surprised expressions. In the mercenary business, it is common for employers to default on their payments. It is not uncommon for them to sell the mercenary after the job is done. So anyone with a brain would ask for a portion of the salary in advance. Of course, this is the ideal situation. In general, there will definitely be resistance, and it is impossible to get the money so easily.

But this time, the employer actually paid 1/4 of the salary in advance... In any case, at least from this point of view, it can be considered reliable, which is enough to reassure many people.

Diyul didn't need to look up to know that the guys next to him had stopped drinking, and they were all staring intently at him, their opinions self-evident.

He was also very tempted... Once there's no work in the mercenary line of work, it's easy to run out of money and become penniless. After all, people like them don't know if they'll die in some corner tomorrow, and they're used to squandering the money they earn, enjoying fine wine, food, and women as soon as possible... Moreover, important things like armor and weapons need to be maintained and updated from time to time, which is another huge expense if you do the math.

Moreover, their business was already bad this year; they only did one small job—being hired by a viscount to attack an enemy's castle, which was completed in just 50 days.

After much deliberation, he finally made up his mind under the watchful eye of his agent:

“Okay, we’ll take it… but you have to give us the agreed-upon quarter of the payment first, not a penny less, and we can’t pay for the travel expenses.”

"No problem, you can go back and prepare now, take this..."

The agent smiled with satisfaction, then kicked a bag from under the table to his feet. The crisp clinking of metal inside was clearly audible even in the noisy pub.

"I knew you'd be interested, so I prepared the money early on. A boat will pick you up at the dock in two days. Get all your cooking utensils ready, so you don't mess things up and get yourself killed. Don't blame me if that happens."

Diyul calmly stepped onto his boots, rubbed them slightly, and had roughly made a judgment:

"To be honest, I'm almost relieved now. After all, even the richest man wouldn't bleed this much at once."

"We're all old friends, so you can rest assured about the people I introduce to you. At least they won't deliberately send you to your deaths... As for the rest, that depends on your own abilities."

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

Bang bang bang!

The sailor carried a huge wooden hammer and struck the frozen ship's gunwales with all his might, breaking the thin layer of ice formed from the previous night's fog and letting it fall into the sea. Behind him followed a companion with a wooden shovel, who threw the ice shards off the deck as well.

Staying on a ship in this kind of weather is definitely not a good idea—compared to the frigid conditions on land, it's even more bitterly damp. It's difficult for any normal person to endure the cold and damp boots and clothes for long, not to mention having to carefully break up the ice that has formed on the ropes and deck every morning to prevent it from getting thicker and causing any trouble.

Many people were already waiting on the dock, most of them gathered around the few braziers used for lighting, rubbing their hands, stamping their feet, cursing and complaining about the awful weather, while scraping the mud off their feet from the protrusions next to them.

A small boat slowly sailed back from the distant sea, carrying two burly men who were freezing. Their eyebrows and beards were covered in frost. A sailor reached out to tie their ropes, then took a flask from his waist and tossed it to them so the two shivering men could drink and warm themselves.

After taking a few gulps of strong liquor and rubbing their hands and feet, they seemed to come alive, dragging out two huge wooden mallets from the ship—used to break the ice that had formed overnight to prevent these large ships from getting stuck in the harbor.

The icebreakers returned by boat one after another, and more and more mercenaries gathered at the dock. They rarely had any discipline, and at this moment, none of them were idle. They were noisily asking questions, trying to find out more information.

"Get ready to board the ship. Make sure you've counted your men!"

Finally, as the sailors of a large ship shouted loudly to the mercenaries, the other large ships also lowered their gangplanks and ladders, beckoning these paid men to board and set sail.

Because the scale of this mercenary force was so astonishing, even though the generous employer had hired many ships, it would still take several days to transport all the people away, and the chaos at the docks would continue for quite some time.

A coachman wearing a sheepskin hat yawned as he looked at the noisy group in the distance. He sniffed his nose, which was red from the cold, and then lost interest in watching any longer. He raised his whip and lashed the rump of the horse pulling the carriage.

The carriage moved slowly forward, and a few idlers by the roadside were chatting and speculating about where these mercenaries were being taken.

The coachman was driving very slowly, perhaps to be extra careful in the cold weather. He also took out his wine every now and then and drank a few sips, which allowed him to clearly hear the conversation of those people.

"I bet the king of Salanod is causing trouble for his neighbors again! Many mercenaries live off their feuds, but I didn't expect them to be so persistent even in winter."

"I don't think so. Not a single word has come out. If we were really going to fight the Duchy of Ado, we should be able to find out something, since caravans from the west and north all pass through here."

"If not, then who is he going to fight? And why is he spending so much money and hiring so many people... Is it the Kingdom of Turot in the west?"

"No, I think it's more like the Duke of Ripley in the north. Last year they had a dispute over a copper mine at the edge of the woodland."

"That was resolved a long time ago. The King of Salanod bought the mine outright with a sum of money. It shouldn't have been them."

Just as they were discussing this, a guy who had been silent all along suddenly spoke up:

"Could they be preparing to attack the Empire...? Isn't the Kingdom of Salanod just the garrison of the Sabendom Fortress? They've always been on guard against the Empire..."

These words were like a chilling wind, freezing everyone's mouths. Everyone else turned to look at him, stunned, seemingly unaware that such a possibility even existed…

But soon, others began to refute his views, all believing it to be utter nonsense. What kingdom would dare to challenge such a behemoth as the Empire? In the past, even relying on natural defenses was barely enough; they needed the support of other nations.

Only when the carriage slowly passed by them did the driver suddenly turn back and glance thoughtfully at the man. Then he frowned almost imperceptibly, as if he had a slight doubt, but in the blink of an eye he lowered his gaze again and drove the carriage away.

A crow flapped its wings and flew to the eaves of a nearby house, opening its beak and emitting a harsh cawing, as if it were mourning something or celebrating something, but in the end no one noticed.

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

A bloody head was opening its mouth and howling—of course, there was no sound, since it had been cut off its owner's neck and was now just a piece of hardened dead flesh. In the cold wind, its tangled fur struggled like living insects.

The head was chopped off quite beautifully, the cut slicing through the gap in the cervical vertebrae without any unnecessary embellishments. The clean, smooth cut even gave it a slightly eerie beauty... Of course, for the head's current owner, its value was far greater.