Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

The soldiers stirred up wave after wave of commotion, many even kneeling on the ground, pale-faced, constantly repenting, feeling fear and disgust for the evil and blasphemous things before them, until their lords and officers drove them up. Only then did these elite troops of the various lords continue to gather, following those strange and heavy footsteps, and advance in formation.

Their armor, banners, and weapons varied greatly, since not every lord was as wealthy as the richest among them to provide his soldiers with the best equipment.

At first glance, this vanguard force of 15,000 men, also gleaming with shimmering armor, displayed a variety of flags and colorful uniforms, resembling a rolling ocean of various colors, forming a stark contrast with the imperial army opposite them.

Amidst the flying crossbow bolts and stone projectiles, the army is slowly approaching. This is destined to be a process that takes time, during which death and bloodshed will be ever-present companions.

Finally, the Imperial infantry were the first to reach their designated positions and quickly began to establish themselves, forging a formidable steel defensive line with shields, spears, and halberds. The archers and crossbowmen also began to line up, and the two armies each took their positions, entering the final standoff before the formal battle.

At this distance, many things could no longer be concealed. The enormous creatures that appeared among the Aselian army naturally came into the sight of the Imperial soldiers, quickly causing wave after wave of commotion. No matter how much discipline was emphasized in daily life, people often found it difficult to overcome their instincts when faced with such blasphemous and bizarre creatures.

This immediately filled many with satisfaction and hope, a feeling that lasted until an armored knight emerged from the enemy lines. The battlefield fell relatively quiet as everyone knew this meant a messenger was about to deliver a message to the enemy commander.

So, what message did Teresolius want to convey?

………………

The messenger was not troubled in any way and was brought to Samir without any obstacles. At least at this moment, when they were about to shed blood on each other, everyone maintained a sense of dignity and restraint.

Samir, mounted on his warhorse, received the envoy, surrounded by generals and guards. He too was somewhat curious: what would Thasorius say to him at this point? ...

Chapter 337 Grinding Mill (2)

A vast army stretched for miles, seemingly endless. A knight, clad in heavy armor along with his horse, rode towards them without flinching. He ignored the gleaming swords and spears and the soldiers' hostile gazes, simply riding through a path cleared by the enemy. He stood before Samir, surrounded by guards clad in golden scale armor, and, meeting the surrounding gazes—some questioning, some defiant, some fierce—speaked:

"By order of the glorious Legion Commander, one of the Thirty Elders, and the master of the Black Eagle Banner, Tersolius, inform the troops of Asel here and their commander of the Empire's intentions!"

"You arrogant and rude person!..."

Seeing that the envoy didn't even bother to dismount, looking at their commander at eye level, a nobleman immediately flew into a rage and began to rebuke him. However, before his words could even leave his throat, Samir raised his hand to stop him:

"Then please hurry, I believe there is not much time left for this conversation."

The knight's helmet swayed slightly, and the veil of his chainmail rippled gently in agreement. Then, his helmet turned slightly and he spoke in a clear voice:

"Our commander is willing to give you a dignified end, freeing you from the predicament of death. As long as this army removes all its armor and weapons, the life of every one of you will be guaranteed, and you will be able to return to your hometown safely without having to endure the pain of swords and spears or accept the fate of dying in a foreign land."

The envoy's words immediately sparked a storm of criticism, with a barrage of insults and sarcastic remarks raining down upon him. He remained unmoved, showing no sign of backing down from these threats, simply waiting quietly for their response.

Samir's face was equally ashen—few generals could accept such a future, a future where they were outmaneuvered by the enemy and about to die and their army be wiped out. Even though he had spent many years on the battlefield, he could still feel the dried-up anger igniting in his heart. This so-called mercy was, in his eyes, an unbearable insult.

He was also well aware of how many of the more furious voices around him were filled with weakness and fear, and how many people wished he would agree so that they would not have to endure the most terrible responsibility, the burden of being condemned by thousands, or go through a bloody battle of life and death, and could escape and save their own lives.

Therefore, he had no choice from the beginning; the only way out was to fight a war.

But before that, he needed to continue to instill courage in the hearts of the surrounding nobles and reassure their resolve:

"Please thank Lord Tresorius for his generosity, but I don't see the need for such generosity. The war is still undecided, and we still have a battle to fight. Perhaps I should prepare a place for the brave general who cut off our retreat. After the Imperial legions are defeated, we will have plenty of time to deal with them."

The messenger nodded slightly:

"I understand now. Please allow me to take my leave for now, in preparation for the battle."

………………

Watching the messenger's departing figure, Samir bitterly realized a fact—a mere pre-battle verbal exchange had already disturbed the generals and nobles around him, their resolve more fragile than he had imagined… The fact that they were surrounded had already demonstrated its immense power, cutting away their confidence like a sharp blade.

Even he was affected. Faced with this terrible reality, how much confidence could he possibly have? He just knew that he had to do it.

"Sound the horns, beat the war drums, let our footsteps shake the earth! Send the order: let the monsters and vanguard attack, with archers and the remaining engineering weapons providing cover. Have the warriors of the tribes prepare to harass their flanks. We will drive the Imperials back and make them abandon their ridiculous ambitions!"

Cheers erupted alongside the sound of bugles. Amidst billowing dust, the army marched out.

--------------------------

Kochkin carefully stroked his side, counting the few marked arrows, while scanning the ranks under his command with cold eyes to ensure that no one had lost their composure due to tension and disobeyed orders.

He commanded 974 soldiers, each a skilled archer... There were also some greenhorns among them, and they were greenhorns he knew—fellow villagers recruited from the new settlement in the eastern villages. Many of them had hunted, sold furs, and climbed mountains with him, and he was quite familiar with these guys.

Many of them could shoot a sparrow in the treetop with an arrow, but they couldn't stand a slightly longer training session, which required him to whip them back like unruly oxen. Worst of all, they always thought their own brilliant ideas were better and always wanted to do things their own way...

In order to make these unruly bastards listen to his reprimands, he swung his whip more fiercely and forcefully, and had to use the harshest words to rebuke their frivolous smiles and attempts to get along with them, using an inhumane approach to make these guys understand what they should do.

This would normally be quite offensive... but fortunately, the parchment booklets they were given detailed how an officer should handle the discontent of his subordinates, and how to lead them in training and combat—valuable experience that in the past often had to be figured out on one's own, and only the most gifted could become officers commanding others. But now, thanks to this refined and valuable experience, even a hapless fellow like him could imitate it and get his thousand-man squad into formation quite well.

Those troublemakers from his hometown had become somewhat more disciplined; at least they no longer acted on impulse. They were nervously fidgeting with their wrists or making other small movements, but nothing particularly impactful, enough for him to turn a blind eye.

The hooves of the light cavalry on both sides kicked up clouds of dust on the ground. From their position, only faint red dots could be seen—red cloaks flashing in the dust. Their disciplined and orderly formation made them seem like a pack of wolves, howling in and out of formation. It was because of their cover that the archers were able to calmly form ranks and prepare to attack the enemy.

The distant bugle calls heralded the outbreak of war, and the battle line formed by flags of various colors began to approach them. Within that broad line, a dozen or so enormous figures stood out conspicuously.

He knew what it was and he knew what he should do.

This is more dangerous than hunting a rabid brown bear, but there is also an honor worthy of such danger. He will continue to kill his prey and reclaim the glory and victory.

Located to their left rear, the ballistae high in the woods began to fire again. A thick bolt flew out with astonishing power, and almost simultaneously, three or four equally thick black shadows streaked across the sky, tearing apart armor plates and severed limbs in the distant ranks.

A crisp metallic clang drew everyone's attention. Kochkin frowned as he looked at the crossbow bolt that had bounced off the heavy armor—the bolt, which resembled a small spear, was broken in half. Although it was far away, they could tell that this powerful attack had failed to achieve its intended effect.

The crossbow bolt struck the massive creature's thick back armor, breaking through the layers of hard iron plates, but the heavy force was also transmitted inside, perhaps creating a dent? Because they clearly saw the monster let out a wail... but this was a terrible arrow that could have torn shields and impaled two or three soldiers on them.

But this was ultimately futile, because after a brief pause, the thing displayed astonishing vitality and continued to move forward at a relatively slow pace.

The enemy had not yet entered their firing range. At this moment, only ballistae and catapults were in use, so they continued to wait, waiting for an opportunity to use their strength in a worthwhile way. The elite archers distributed in the formation would also shoot their terrible poison arrows into the gaps in the monster's armor.

………………

The ballistae fired again, and this time the monster on the left side of the line howled and staggered. One of its exposed walking organs—let's call it a foot—was torn in half by a thick crossbow bolt, and the huge flying limb even collided with a soldier next to it.

The exhilaration of this sight lasted only a few breaths, because the monster then continued forward, seemingly unaffected—as it had a full eight such walking legs, advancing towards them with its enormous, terrifying body.

The craftsmen began to whisper among themselves, then immediately adjusted the massive weapons in front of them and began firing at an even faster rate, determined to destroy the monsters before they reached the front line... Their identities made it impossible for them to know the relevant information, but they still managed to adjust their mindset in the shortest amount of time, without letting their efficiency decrease in the slightest.

But as it turned out, the attack had a significant element of luck. Most of the crossbow bolts broke off and flew away from the thick armor. The incredibly resilient monster continued to advance, and it was almost impossible for their powerful engineering machines to accurately hit the gaps in the armor. The monster, after being hit again and again, always managed to recover and continue to advance on their lines.

This even brought smiles to the faces of many Assele generals. They could almost imagine the carnage these behemoths would unleash upon the Empire's lines, which boosted their confidence and allowed them to continue their advance despite the casualties from ballistae and catapults.

Once they got close enough, a barrage of arrows rained down. The soldiers raised their shields to defend themselves, and although their pace slowed, they kept advancing. Every now and then, someone would be hit by an arrow and fall, and someone else would take their place, drowning the wounded or dead in the surging crowd. As they got closer, their confidence grew stronger.

This confidence lasted until a terrible wail and howl came, tearing apart the afternoon sunlight and yellow dust, bringing an ominous premonition.

Within their formation, a monster let out a pitiful roar, desperately scratching at its armored body with the sharp, heavy blade in its hand. For the first time, the black-clad figure behind it showed signs of panic, waving its arms helplessly… There, in a gap in the rough armor, an ordinary-looking arrow was embedded, its tail feathers still trembling slightly. A bluish-black tinge spread rapidly through the white flesh, revealing bulging veins, torn skin, and a horrifying pain that penetrated to the bone…

Chapter 338 Grinding Mill (3)

The enormous monster struggled desperately, its terrifying blades, each three fingers thick, tearing wildly at the heavy iron armor. In no time, it snapped the leather straps along the gaps in the armor plates, slashing deep, bone-revealing wounds into its pale body. The hooked blades even grabbed some tangled bones, tearing them directly from the wounds, steaming blood still attached, along with tattered fascia, as if it were frantically trying to rip out its own internal organs. The tentacles that flailed around its head were stiffening at a visible speed.

The black-robed beast tamer panicked, and this time all the soldiers around witnessed a terrifying scene—slippery, snake-like tentacles emerged from the tattered black hood. They spread into the air and began to tremble rapidly, sending out sharp, piercing cries that echoed all around, but did nothing to calm the monster; instead, they drove it even more mad.

"Crack!!"

The monster's massive arm suddenly lashed out with a brutal rip. This wasn't a deliberate attack, but rather a frenzied outburst. It tore the black-robed man in two at the waist as easily as snapping a tree branch, even tearing out a bloody piece of intestine from the sharp hook. Then, with a vicious tug, it severed half of its own head, collapsing to the ground with a thud, motionless.

This was the scene unfolding in one section of the forward formation, while elsewhere, the soldiers remained completely unaware, continuing their advance under the hail of arrows, their courage undiminished by the constant death and injury. The monsters, too, continued their slow advance through the arrow barrage, letting the arrows bounce and break off their armor.

But a change did indeed occur. Satisfactorily, this section of the line began to stagnate. Soldiers and even officers began to hesitate. They stood still, watching the monster that had gone mad and died, until the bugle call to advance sounded again behind them. Only then did they begin to move slowly, but their speed was clearly lagging behind the others.

The brief distortion and hesitation in their formation immediately came at a heavy price. Unable to form a tight formation, the torrential rain of arrows exacerbated the casualties, with men falling one after another, their armor shattered and killed by the powerful arrows.

What an agony it must have been to endure such a barrage of arrows! Moreover, the more casualties they suffered, the more chaotic their formation became, and the more chaotic the formation became, the more effective the attacks were. Soon, the army formation in this section became increasingly chaotic. Only then did Samir hear about what was happening here, causing him to frown and sense something was amiss.

But for the time being, they couldn't figure out the reason... After all, the situation had been great before, and the monster's advance hadn't been hindered at all. Even those terrifying crossbows that could tear shields and overturn fortifications hadn't been able to really kill them, and the other arrows were completely useless against the iron armor that was at least an inch thick... What could have made this incredibly resilient monster turn into this?

But with battle imminent and the arrow already on the bowstring, there was no time to spare... After a slight hesitation, Samir could only send out a squad of his guards to kill the scattered soldiers, forcibly restoring them to their formation so they could continue advancing.

Arrows rained down from both sides, most of them embedding themselves in the soil, spreading out in a fine, continuous drizzle. Those that struck human bodies produced muffled groans and screams, but the Imperial Legion, gleaming with iron light, still held the upper hand. Resilient amidst the white feathers, they relentlessly unleashed a deadly rain of iron. Meanwhile, the crossbows and stone projectiles whistling overhead continuously inflicted casualties on the enemy's formation, weakening their strength, disrupting their plans, and causing them to panic and hesitate.

Colin, positioned in the ranks, aimed his bow for a long time, then sighed and put the arrow, its tip gleaming with vibrant colors, back into the leather pouch.

"Damn, how lucky I was just now, hitting the target from so far away. Now I'm a little hesitant to make a move..."

Colin was surprised and delighted by his unexpected arrow. He squinted, assessing the distance to the massive creatures—his previous shot had seemed divinely inspired. He had precisely pierced a gap in the monster's armor from hundreds of paces away, achieving an immediate and astonishing effect. Now, however, he lacked the same feel for it and dared not fire again, waiting for the creatures to move into a more reliable range.

The elite archers lurking in the ranks were mostly waiting intently, some even refraining from firing a single arrow to conserve their strength and spirit, enduring the rain of arrows around them, maintaining the patience of a hunter in the mountains, waiting to bring the prey that was truly worth their effort closer. Some were so nervous that their palms were sweating, soaking the leather of their bow handles.

Tersolius stood on the high ground, remaining completely silent. None of the armored soldiers and generals around him dared to utter a sound, creating an eerie, localized silence. Only the banners fluttered in the sunlit wind, and the dust raised by the distant army blotted out the sky. The battle lines were gradually closing in, and they could clearly see the hideous, twisted monsters.

"It looks impressive; this thing is probably even stronger than an ox."

Thesolius watched for a long time, then suddenly burst out laughing, pointing and gesturing as if he were standing on the stands of an arena commenting on the wild beasts below, with an air of effortless ease.

"I'm afraid it's far more than that. Even three cows wouldn't have that kind of power... This thing could probably easily tear a strong cow in two. No wonder those villains thought of using it to deal with our army. If they really charge into our ranks, it will be troublesome."

Holding his helmet, Yuriedos, seeing his commander speak, carefully observed him with his excellent eyesight before giving an affirmative answer, while also checking the distance with some concern:

"Sir, should we take further precautions? That way, even if we make a mistake, it won't cause chaos."

“No need,” Tersolius said without turning around. His sharp, eagle-like eyes swept over them for a moment, and then a smile suddenly appeared on his lips.

"It won't fail. Look, it's already started..."

Yuriedos looked up with slight surprise and discovered that the Aselian army had made waves in their line of fire, which was now 150 paces away.

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

Arrows rained down, snapping and bouncing off the rough, heavy steel. The elite troops of the Aselian lords grew increasingly excited, believing that these monsters would easily break through the empire's defenses. All they had to do was follow them in and rout the terrified imperial soldiers. Power, wealth, and glory would soon be within their grasp.

After all, even they couldn't think of any way to stop these armored monsters. Even if they could kill them, it would come at a heavy price, and in the current situation, such a price was not something they could easily accept…

A sharp roar suddenly reached their ears, and a minor noble officer who was directing his soldiers to advance turned around in surprise—and saw a colossal beast with three chains tied to its hands roaring and struggling. Three still-trembling arrows pierced its head, left forearm joint, and back of neck, respectively, quickly pulling out large patches of swollen, writhing, and ruptured flesh. Rotten black blood flowed continuously from its gaping maw full of teeth, mixed with viscous blood clots and internal organs.

The armored monster, which was as massive as a small mountain, now appeared incredibly fragile. After struggling a few times, it collapsed forward, scraping its tentacles to shreds on the rubble, and then remained motionless.

Before he could react, another pitiful wail suddenly came from the side. Another monster with huge hooked blades bound to its hands was struggling and writhing. The same rotten black blood and entrails gushed from its mouth, and it collapsed to the ground, motionless, turning into a pile of dead flesh in the blink of an eye.

A profound sense of foreboding suddenly gripped his heart. Before the minor nobleman could react, panicked cries spread rapidly along the army lines, as dense as the throats of sheep being ripped out of their flock and slit one after another…

I helped someone else again today.

There have been so many weddings in my hometown these past few days ┐('-｀)┌ I haven't had a moment's rest... I've already given out who knows how much money in wedding gifts... I just got off the bus, I'm so sleepy, so I'm taking a day off from updating. I'm really sorry (||?_?)

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Chapter 339 Grinding Mill (4)

According to legend, when the souls of the dead first enter the Dark Realm, they will hear 14 bells ringing. Each bell will wash away their confusion and resentment. After the 14 bells ring, the souls will rest in peace and turn into grains of sand in the black desert in their slumber.

And the one who rings the bell is the protector of the dead, the master of just rest and tranquility—Black Porialos, the god of death and rest.

The bells that rang from his skeletal hands were meant to appease the souls of the dead; the living could not hear them, but Samir felt as if he could faintly sense His call…