Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Meanwhile, Thesolius scooped up a handful of dust from the ground, held it in the air, and slowly let it fall, watching the fine dust particles being blown away by the wind, leisurely enjoying what could be described as a luxurious leisure.

A feeling of relaxation that made his entire shoulder relax made him sigh, feeling smug about this rare ease, as if this were not a battlefield where the legions of two countries were fighting each other, but a pleasant hunting ground, with plump birds and beasts passing by.

Until one instant, his back straightened again, like a long, sharp spear, and something dangerous and grand awakened within him, revealing its sharpness once more.

He calmly fastened his helmet, ignoring the dust on it, stepped one foot into the stirrup next to the saddle, and with a slight effort, flipped himself up. He gently patted the strong neck of the horse, now covered in iron scales, to soothe his powerful mount, and slowly raised his right hand.

Sunlight shone on his palms, which were covered in gilded steel, giving them a blinding, cold gleam, like a battle axe raised high, symbolizing power and majesty... until his palms fell heavily forward, and the third horn finally sounded, its desolate and long sound spreading far and wide.

As the first hoof took a step forward, almost everyone began to urge their mounts on at the same time, tightening the reins from time to time to adjust their speed, ensuring that the formation was neat and orderly. The sound of iron hooves pounding the ground and the scraping of armor plates spread like a tide, becoming more and more uniform in the gale.

First they walked slowly, then quickly... until the distance was closed to a suitable range. Then, with the fourth blast of the horn, the cavalrymen simultaneously began to whip their warhorses, causing these agile beasts to gallop forward, carrying heavy armor and knights, rolling forward like molten iron pouring down from the sky, unstoppable and devastating!

At that very moment, thousands of horns sounded simultaneously within the empire's army ranks. Thousands of war drums were struck by heavy hammers at the same time, and countless banners began to flutter in response. An unstoppable and terrifying sound, like thunder, soared into the sky and instantly spread in all directions.

The Empire's formidable heavy infantry began their advance, abandoning the defensive strategy that had previously left the Aselans battered and bruised. The seemingly endless iron wall advanced simultaneously, creating an atmosphere that felt like the sky was falling and the earth was collapsing. At the same time, a dense swarm of arrows descended upon them.

Under the blood-tinged sunlight, the war finally came to an end…

P.S.: I'm finally done with this busy schedule. I've been working non-stop these past few days, and my back and waist are aching every day (||?_?). I'll resume regular updates from now on. Sorry for keeping you all waiting.

Chapter 350 Breakthrough and Retreat (5)

Thunder roared down upon the earth, crushing everything in its path into fine dust, engulfing and trampling everything in an instant...

Samir had seen such a description on an ancient parchment scroll, the text of which was strange, obscure, and incomprehensible. The description itself was also ethereal, as elusive as mist... He studied the scroll from beginning to end for several days, but ultimately still could not understand its contents.

He spent a long time doing this seemingly pointless thing, simply because this piece of paper—this tattered, old, and seemingly inexplicable parchment scroll—had appeared in the scabbard his father had left him, firmly stuck to the inside.

He had consulted the wisest elders in the entire country, but no one could give him an answer. However, he was unwilling to believe that what his father had left him was a meaningless piece of trash, so he never threw it away. Even now, that parchment is still pasted inside his scabbard.

And now, at this very moment, on this battlefield filled with the aura of bloodshed, he felt as if he had finally come to understand the strange scene described on that parchment…

...His final defeat seemed both sudden and inevitable—the left wing of the legion collapsed first, and the fresh troops that the Empire had committed completely crushed the troops that were still resisting there. Before that, the elite of the Abatheris family and their banners had already abandoned everything and fled westward.

The flight of those nobles did not surprise him too much... Although they had made a common oath before the war began, it seemed too fragile in the face of the rolling iron cavalry and the collapse of the sky. Especially now that the situation could no longer give them hope, what was so surprising about such a thing happening?

But he still felt sorrow, still felt resentment... From beginning to end, he never truly took control of this army, never allowed the powerful force gathered by the nation to play its true value. No matter what efforts he made, the situation continued to deteriorate, developing to its current state...

Perhaps he had foreseen this scene long before the war began, and had anticipated such a defeat—after all, a warrior with one arm that was not under his control fighting the enemy meant that the shadow of defeat had already loomed over him... and the retreat of that part of the nobles completely destroyed his last efforts.

This fatal flaw was unsurprisingly seized upon ruthlessly and accurately by the enemy. His soldiers lost their morale and courage amidst doubt and fear, and no longer had any confidence in the war... Then, in his calm yet sorrowful gaze, they were pierced through by the rolling iron cavalry.

His last reserve force was of no use, collapsing completely under the earth-shattering charge of the enemy. The silver torrent of iron easily broke through the no-longer-firm defenses, trampling countless lives under the hooves of horses, tearing his soldiers apart with lances, and cutting them to pieces with swords, hammers, and axes. Limbs and severed arms were trampled into the mud while they were still convulsing and twitching, and their internal organs were mixed with hair and clothes while they were still steaming.

What followed was, predictably, a massive collapse.

………………

Samir closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled... He knew he had lost control of the army, had lost command of the vast majority of the troops, and the situation was completely ruined, like a boulder rolling down a mountain, beyond repair.

Everything descended into chaos. No formation could maintain its integrity, and no army retained its will. Yet, the gleaming silver cavalry, still flanking the black double-headed eagle banner, pressed forward relentlessly, destroying everything that dared to stand in their way like mercury washing away sand.

The panicked crowd huddled together, screaming, cursing, wailing and crying. In the trampling and shoving, they caused heavy casualties. They even attacked others who blocked their way without hesitation. Many soldiers did not die at the hands of the Imperials, but died under the hammers and axes swung in the chaos. A terrible bloody aura floated over the entire plain, almost dyeing the clouds crimson.

Meanwhile, the Imperial cavalry began to reap the rewards of their victory—the infantry, even in heavy armor, who had lost their will to fight were now nothing more than targets for slaughter, and most of them were destined to meet their doom in the pursuit of the light cavalry.

This is no longer a battle; this is a massacre.

Samir didn't know how many people would survive, but he dared not harbor any illusions. Their escape route had long been cut off, and this last gamble had ended in utter failure... They had nowhere to retreat and nowhere to go.

He touched his forehead with his burning hands, and before he knew it, his gaze had been fixed on the raging torrent of iron in the distance, or more precisely, on the magnificent double-headed eagle banner. A bloodthirsty impulse urged him to do something... to die.

Yes, when a general suffers such a defeat, his shame should be washed away with blood, whether it be the enemy's or his own, even if he is torn to pieces in the blink of an eye, it is better than facing the bitter defeat and shame.

But in the end, he forcibly suppressed this impulse—his duty would not allow it, his heart would not allow it, he had to retreat, he had to leave this place, only in this way would there be a slight chance of turning the tide in this war, even if that chance was extremely slim.

He wanted to rally the troops, to gather the remnants of the defeated army, even if it was likely pointless.

………………

The blonde girl frowned, clicked her tongue, and reluctantly tossed aside the long axe, which was covered in chips and cracks. Then she reached out and vigorously rubbed her head, which was covered in a layer of scabs, spreading the semi-congealed, viscous blood evenly across her hair, turning the originally dazzling gold into a glaring color.

The pain in my body has become numb, and the once hard and shiny armor plates have become broken and twisted. However, due to their excellent quality, they can still maintain a certain degree of defense and shimmer like dragon scales in the gradually sinking sunset.

Karila never imagined she would be this exhausted one day—so exhausted she didn't want to move a finger, but her knees were too stiff to sit down, leaving her standing there like a wooden stake amidst the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

The sky was gradually darkening, making the blood on the ground appear darker. The broken flags and piles of human and horse corpses stretched to the horizon, and the smoke from the burning, mixed with the smell of blood and all sorts of stench, filled the air.

What should we do next?

She raised her head somewhat dazedly, licked her sharp teeth with her tongue, then wiped the blood from her nose with her sleeve. Bored, she stretched her hips, making her aching and numb bones crack.

Go back and get a good night's sleep. Oh, and have a big meal...

Pulling her boots out of the sticky blood, Carila finally knew what she was going to do next... Then, she was startled by a black wall that suddenly appeared in front of her, and took two steps back before realizing that it was Tersolius's magnificent black horse.

Almost instinctively, as if her heart had been squeezed hard, after several rapid beats, and after her gaze swept across the empty saddle, she began to search around. Before a strange panic could intensify, she finally saw a familiar figure standing on a distant hillside, surrounded by heavily armored soldiers and guards.

"call…………"

Carila breathed a sigh of relief.

Chapter 351 Ending (1)

The finest leather boots were tightly stitched and then carefully coated with a layer of oil wax, so that even water couldn't penetrate them. But now, due to intense use, gaps had appeared, allowing blood to seep in.

The fine boots, embroidered with gold and silver, were now completely ruined, causing Thesolius to sigh with regret. He stretched his ankles, looked at the crimson mud seeping from the shoes, and then looked up at the gradually darkening sky.

A guard was wiping his spear with a piece of cotton cloth torn from a corpse—the weapon remained tough and shiny after piercing the chests and armor of hundreds of people, leaving only a few small scratches filled with thick, scarlet blood.

Four servants were about to clean his armor, but he waved them away, leaving him standing alone, gazing with a strange sense of melancholy at the setting sun sinking below the horizon, and at the crimson, distorted mountains of corpses and seas of blood bathed in its light.

The Assele people left behind more than 2 corpses. The remaining remnants scattered and fled, and most of them were no longer a threat. Only the largest group maintained its organization and retreated to the south.

He almost instinctively realized that in such a cataclysmic situation, the only one who could still organize this army was probably his adversary, the commander of the Assele, the man who, through his elaborate schemes, could still unite the army.

To be honest, even with his henchmen having completely infiltrated the south, he had a firm grasp on every move of the enemy army, and even his own lords were divided and at odds, he hadn't expected that the enemy would still be able to unite a large army and fight him head-on... The country of Asele still had some merit.

It will take a long time to clean up the bloodshed on this plain, and the blood of tens of thousands of people will inevitably change this place. Whether it can be cultivated as before is still unknown, but they can no longer stay here.

The next step was to march south and bring this conquest of the south to a close.

"Sir, are you alright?"

A strangely calm voice suddenly came from beside him, accompanied by the sound of boots stained with blood and mud pounding on the grass. Karila's tall figure appeared beside him, her golden hair soaked in blood, turning it into a glaring color.

"It won't hurt you. My charge was the last strike, a well-rested elite force breaking through their exhausted ranks. There wasn't much danger. But you, from the very beginning, were pushing forward head-on..."

As he spoke, he turned around, his gaze calmly sweeping over the broken, twisted armor plates and the bloodstains covering his body:

"Is my champion already exhausted? Perhaps you should go and have your wound treated by Tarina first."

"I am quite tired... but the injuries are just minor. If I couldn't even endure this, I would have starved to death on the icy plains long ago..."

She was perhaps truly exhausted; this once vibrant and energetic female assassin spoke with a listless, weak voice. Her eyelids blinked frequently, as if they might close at any moment.

"I've been chopping all day and I've broken my axe. You'll have to get me a new one."

"Just go find the master craftsmen; they can forge the finest steel."

"That's no fun, I want yours!"

"?!..."

Thesolius raised his eyebrows, while the girl opposite him grinned in the fiery sunset.

"Where's your axe from when we used to spar? I've been thinking about it for ages, the one with the gold inlay and patterns on it?"

The corners of Tersolius's mouth, as hard as steel, suddenly softened, and he reached out to pat the congealed blood scabs on his gauntlets:

"It's hanging in my tent. I'll give it to you when we get back."

"By the way, I'm too tired to walk anymore. Could you give me a ride? My horse is still tied up in the rear camp."

Without hesitation, Karila began to push her luck, pointing excitedly to Moss, who was still grazing on the hillside behind them, causing the surrounding generals to exchange strange glances.

The commander of the legion's mount was not something that anyone else could touch. Even the groom responsible for feeding it could not ride this renowned and magnificent warhorse. This horse was meant to carry only one person.

Such a demand is far too much, even for an Imperial Champion who has just made a great contribution. If one were not very familiar with Karila, it would be easy to suspect that she might have treasonous intentions...

Tersolius stared blankly at his champion for a moment, then finally couldn't hold back his laughter at the opponent's silly grin and burst out laughing:

"Alright, I'll give you a ride then. I don't think Moss will have any objections."

After he finished speaking, he gently waved to the hillside, and the huge, magnificent warhorse immediately let out a joyful neigh and galloped towards him, bringing with it a hot wind mixed with the smell of blood.

He reached out and grabbed the saddle, put his right foot in the stirrup, then flipped himself onto the horse, turned around, and extended his right hand.

"There's no extra room. Hold on tight and don't fall."

Another hand, covered in iron armor, grasped his palm, and with a forceful leap, the other man jumped onto the horse's back like a lark.

"Ha! I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Order the light cavalry to continue the pursuit, and the rest of the troops to continue cleaning up the battlefield and setting up camp as previously arranged, and to clear away the corpses as soon as possible. The weather is hot now, and we must not cause a plague."

Finally, turning to his generals, Tersolius gave them a final instruction, then spurred his horse onward through the last twilight before nightfall, leading his personal guards and a young woman with excited cheers.

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

"How many days is it now?"

Alka touched his hairy chin, frowned, and began to think carefully... and started to wonder if his mind had become unclear because of that blow?

"What, you can't take it anymore after only four days? There's still plenty of time. Instead of complaining, you should go back and rest."

Marcus, his face equally weathered, was busily turning the pages of parchment in his hands. Every now and then, he would scribble or draw on it with a charcoal pencil. The tiny flame of the oil lamp in front of him flickered and danced, barely illuminating the narrow, damp house.

The floor and walls were paved with narrow, foot-length stone bricks, but they were clearly in disrepair, with moss and weeds growing in the cracks, and brazen rats scurrying about in the darkness from time to time. Finally, Alka impatiently stomped on one, smearing blood and entrails all over the leg of the nearby table.

"How could that be?!... I've just been feeling a bit confused these past few days, and I keep forgetting things... When I get back, I definitely have to go see Dr. Tarina."

"No need to go, I can find the reason for you."

Marcus didn't even look up, while Alka stared in astonishment.

"Really? When did you acquire this skill? You've been keeping it well hidden!"

“I don’t have that ability, but you idiot haven’t slept for two days. Even a fool can guess why. If this continues, you’ll exhaust yourself… You insist on doing everything yourself, and you can’t even leave the city walls unattended. If this continues, I’ll have to consider whether I should lock you up.”

"It's all because those guys are so unreliable; they actually made a mistake in that place..."

“Even if you don’t get involved, the troops will soon block that place. What good did you do besides killing a few dozen more people? You even got a hammer blow to the head.”