Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

The nobles exchanged flustered glances, while Natamus bowed without hesitation.

“It is my honor, Your Majesty. I will definitely bring my brothers here, and I believe that the despicable will pay the price they deserve... and the traitors must also receive the most severe punishment!”

Nathamus spoke his last two sentences while staring directly at Consul Arios; his meaning was self-evident…

"Very well, then I will use my power as Emperor to appoint you as the military commander of the Southern Military District! In order to defend against the invasion of the Hols, the five legions of the Southern Military District will be under your command!"

"If your brother Tersolius has indeed betrayed the Empire, there will be a terrible trap there... We cannot afford to lose another general, so I will grant you the authority to mobilize military supplies in the south... I will also grant you the authority to wage war against the Hols. I hope you know how to use this honor..."

Natamus smiled, and the emperor smiled back at him, ignoring the ashen faces around them.

…………

The cavalrymen kicked and beat the slaves who had just finished eating, driving them toward the camp, which was a large open space in the city. It used to be two warehouses for storing grain, but two months ago, due to mismanagement, they caught fire and were burned to the ground.

Now, makeshift dwellings have been built there using rough wooden planks. These things cannot be expected to withstand strong winds and rain, but the spring drizzle and gentle breeze cannot affect them.

Next to the camp was a much larger open space... This was the city's slave market, where all the slaves sent to Alpert were sold.

Slave owners would select the strong and healthy slaves from among those captured by these slave-catching teams, just like selecting goods. Those who were weak and no one wanted to buy them would be given away as extras or disposed of directly.

Many slaves still remember this terrible place, the inhuman torture they suffered there, and the agonizing screams that filled their ears.

Many people are even unwilling to approach this area, as if a terrible demon lives there and will devour them completely, and once they enter, there is no escape...

Perhaps this statement isn't entirely wrong... It was from here that slaves began their lives as slaves, and it was from here that they began to suffer endless misery.

But now this slave market has been completely abandoned. Five or six iron rings are hung on the blood-stained wooden stakes, through which the slaves' arms are threaded and fixed, so that they cannot escape.

If a chained slave struggles too much, his arms will be bound even tighter, and he will suffer more pain in the end. There are many slaves whose arms rot and swell because of their desperate struggle.

This place, which makes people frown, no longer has any slave traders.

The city has been officially sealed off, and all merchants who do not belong to the city have left, or rather, they no longer want to stay in this place where war could break out at any time.

Ignoring any cries of pain, the cavalrymen drove them into the open field in a brutal and even cruel manner, and then quickly began to separate the strong slaves.

Following the imperial infantry's organizational method, they were drawn into square formations of two hundred men each, led by a cavalryman. Each square formation consisted of ten squads, each squad having a captain, two vice-captains, and a standard bearer...

Of course, this method of formation is still too simplistic, but they don't have many resources right now and must start training immediately, at least to let them know where the tip of the spear should be pointed...

Needless to say, the slaves were obedient; they were used to obeying orders, and once they were lined up, they would stand quietly in place without needing to be scolded.

There were boxes of various sizes next to them, and no one knew what was inside, but they dared not look at them too much.

A tall knight riding a black warhorse charged into the crowd, causing a small cheer among the slaves before being silenced by his superior.

Thesolius grabbed his helmet, untied the straps, and took it off...

"My slaves, now is the time for you to pay the price. I have provided you with warm shelters, enough food to eat, and warm clothes to keep you warm. Now you must sweat here for me and for yourselves!"

The massive black warhorse pawed wildly, trying to charge forward, but the rider on its back pulled on the reins, instantly calming it down.

"In the future, you will don armor, take up arms, and fight alongside us, shedding your blood and giving your lives for me! And from today onward, you must get used to this feeling, get used to wearing armor, get used to taking up arms, and never forget it until the end of your lives!"

Thesolius pointed with his riding whip at the boxes of various sizes:

"Here are 2000 sets of fine chainmail and helmets! They will protect you from ordinary swords and blades. Get used to their weight..."

"In the time to come, you will learn how to use spears, how to use swords, how to cooperate with your comrades, how to obey orders, how to use shields, how to shoot arrows... There is still much for you to learn!"

"Remember this: if you want to survive on the battlefield, learn all of this well! Obeying orders and discipline is the most important foundation for your survival! This is my order, your master, Thesolius!"

The slaves cheered loudly, raising their dark arms like seedlings swaying in the spring breeze. Their deafening cheers echoed throughout the city and drifted out to the fertile fields...

"Long live General Tersolius! ...Long live!..."

"Long live!…………"

Chapter 53 Preparation (4)

Crystal-clear raindrops continuously pattered against the roof tiles. The rough, red ceramic tiles prevented the rainwater from seeping in, allowing it to flow down its uneven surface onto the ground beside it.

A slave was huddled in his shack, listening to the raindrops pattering on the ground outside the window, enveloped in a strange and extremely rare comfort...

Despite the aches and pains in my limbs and back, the abrasions on my skin throbbed, and the calluses on my palms were worn raw and bleeding, there was no part of my body that didn't hurt.

But the slave's face still bore a smile, a smile that could be described as happiness...

Look at where he lives now! It's not one of those places where hundreds of people are crammed together like a sheep pen... but a small hut built of wooden planks with red tiles on top to keep out the rain, where he can get a peaceful night's sleep.

He was all alone, without a wife or children, so he was only allocated this small shack where he could sleep. Other men with wives and children were allocated larger spaces; these small houses were densely packed together along the wide open spaces in the city.

Although there were many of them, they were very neat, with the distance between each two houses being exactly twice his height... and there were even neat drainage ditches dug in between.

Rainwater flowing down the roof tiles gathers continuously along these grooves, eventually flowing into a large pit, where a small pond has formed.

The water from the city fountains also passes through this small area, and the clean water they drink comes from here, which they keep bringing back a constant supply of clean water from their stomachs.

Every night, more than ten large pots would be set up here, and steaming hot meat porridge would boil inside. The men would then receive enough food to fill the stomachs of everyone in their families, based on the number of people in their households.

After they had spent a quiet night in their shacks, before the sun had even illuminated any corner of the city, they would be driven away.

Those cavalrymen, clad in heavy armor, were their officers, who would use whips to drive away any lazybones who wanted to sleep a little longer.

Even if they were whipped a few times, the slaves would not complain, and they would never utter such a sound in private...

They are now living a happy life they never dared to dream of before, so what does it matter if they get a few lashes? It won't break your arms and legs.

But even so, they were still terrified of their superiors. Whenever they heard the sound of armor plates rubbing together, they would instinctively straighten their backs...

Once they have donned their armor, taken their weapons, secured their leg wraps, and put on their shoes properly, they must proceed to their training grounds as quickly as possible.

The training ground was filled with pillars and blood-stained iron rings.

There they will receive all the training necessary to become a soldier.

They would train in formation, train themselves to follow their captain and standard-bearer, train themselves to obey the commands of bugles and flags, and understand the meaning of drumbeats...

They also had to learn how to raise shields, how to thrust their spears, how to maintain their ranks... There was so much for them to learn that they didn't get any rest most of the day.

But no one is willing to be lazy. The slaves who have survived to this day are not stupid. They know what they are training for... If they don't learn these things, they will just be slaves and will never become warriors.

On the battlefield, only warriors survive; slaves do not…

Although their current life is far beyond what they could have imagined before, they have developed even more urgent needs after obtaining enough food and warm shelter.

………………

The land... that fertile, precious land.

They could obtain a small piece of land of their own, a small piece of land that they could acquire through their loyalty and blood...

This was an unimaginable blessing and mercy, and everyone could understand it. The slaves were like madmen, their eyes red as they talked about it all day long.

As long as they own a piece of land, they are like free people who were not enslaved, able to cultivate their own land and store the food they need...

………………

Before dawn, the slaves were able to rest for a while. After dawn, whether they were men, women, or children, they all had their own work to do...

But they did it willingly.

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

Step on the steel foot ring of the crossbow, then hook the bowstring on both sides with two rope hooks with thick hemp ropes, and use all the strength of your waist, back and whole body to hang the string on the hook.

He pulled a crossbow bolt from the leather pouch at his waist. This bolt was much shorter than an arrow. Because of its lighter weight and the greater weight of the crossbow, the bolt was often more powerful and had a longer range than a bow and arrow. Ordinary armor could not withstand it.

Insert the crossbow bolt under the brass hook, then slowly level the crossbow in your hand, grip the wooden handle firmly with your right hand, and hook your index finger onto the thick iron rod.

Adjust your breathing, change the angle to a suitable position, and then pull down the iron bar...

The sound of the bow vibrating came at the same time as the crossbow shuddered violently, and the wooden grip struck his shoulder, making a rustling sound on his chainmail.

The crossbow bolt struck the head of the humanoid target accurately, embedding itself deeply, leaving only a finger-length section protruding. The entire target was pulled backward by the powerful force.

The slave didn't even glance at the arrow. Instead, he quickly put his foot back into the footrest, used all his strength to draw back the crossbow, nocked an arrow, and fired.

Without making any unnecessary movements, he fired one crossbow bolt after another with maximum efficiency. When a crisp sound came from the side, he had already fired six bolts in succession...

The pain in his shoulders became unbearable as soon as he stopped. Pulling the crossbow bolt repeatedly in a very short time put a lot of pressure on his shoulders, but he dared not move and kept himself in the same position.

On either side of him were slaves who had suffered as much as he had, now holding their crossbows with tense expressions.

The sound of armor plates rubbing together and heavy footsteps came from the side as their officer and centurion approached the target.

Harris knew he didn't need to be nervous, because no one else had shot as many arrows as him, and even fewer of them had hit their targets...

But when he saw that serious and stern face, he still felt his legs go weak. He had been whipped quite a bit these past two days because of his clumsiness... He could only hope that his performance this time would not cause any problems.

The officer inspected the targets one by one, his face expressionless, but many slaves looked relieved.

As long as they don't scold him, it means they're barely able to satisfy him... so he doesn't have to be so worried.

In the end, apart from one guy who shot an arrow at someone else's target and got kicked a few times, several others received an unexpected reward: they could have an extra two slices of meat at their dinner that day!

Amidst the quiet cheers of the crossbowmen, the infantry training was also proceeding at a rapid pace…

…………

They huddled together tightly, each with their own spot, a teardrop-shaped shield hanging from their left hand, stacked on top of each other's shields to form a wall of steel and oak.

As the bugle sounded, they began to march forward in unison, neither too fast nor too slow, maintaining a straight line with their comrades...

He tucked his helmeted head behind his shield for extra protection. A sharp dagger, gripped in his right hand, extended from the gaps in the shield like a protruding steel spike.

Several spears with sharp points extended from their shoulders forward, defending against the imagined oncoming enemy warhorses. They needed to thrust their spears accurately and ruthlessly into the eyes or chests of the warhorses, and if possible, stab their riders off the ground...

Some slaves did not carry shields; instead, they carried sharp, large axes—weapons highly effective against ordinary armor, their heavy weight allowing them to unleash terrifying lethality when swung.

Once the enemy cavalry is stopped, they will bravely charge forward and, with the help of others, swing their great axes to kill the cavalry...

Those who could undertake this task were all the strongest and bravest among them, and they even got to eat a little extra at dinner.

The infantrymen holding shields not only had sharp short swords in their right hands, but some also held a hammer about the length of their calves. The hammerhead had several grooves that divided it into a geometric shape with sharp edges.

Such a hammer, when struck on a smooth armor surface, will not easily slip, allowing the force to be effectively transmitted, and its relatively short length will not hinder the infantrymen's movements in swinging it.

They didn't learn any complicated techniques, only a few very simple movements, which they were taught to execute with power and speed...

This is not easy. Some slaves are touching swords and hammers for the first time in their lives. They don't even know how to use the blade to cut their enemies... They don't know that the direction of the sword swing should be horizontal with the blade.

The consequence of doing this is that the swords and knives are often twirled in the hand, not slashed... but rather slapped, causing no harm whatsoever.

The hammer is easier to use, but its center of gravity is too far forward, making it difficult to retract after swinging. You need to learn to use it more carefully.