Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

At that point, whether they launch a rebellion under the guise of rescuing the emperor, accuse them of being rebels, or even split the country and establish a new emperor... there are plenty of tricks and methods, and it will be truly impossible to control the situation.

The only saving grace is that, despite his relentless efforts over the years, he has finally conquered the Kurist people in the east, destroyed the Kingdom of Hols in the south, and directly annihilated tens of thousands of Assele's troops, breaking the biggest threat in the south and preventing it from daring to make any moves for at least several decades. In the end, he has freed the empire from the predicament of being surrounded by enemies on all sides and no longer has to worry about falling into the worst possible situation.

Now, he faces a truly formidable challenge: can the achievements he has made over the years be preserved? Can the country he protects continue to prosper? The answer lies in the upcoming war…

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The burning embers hadn't completely died down and were still quite hot. Colin used his shovel to dig a hole in the ashes, then buried the meat and taro wrapped in broad leaves inside, covered it with the hot ash, and piled up some still-red-hot charcoal on top.

The livestock burned to death in the flames still emitted a strong, nauseating smell of flesh. The guests and owners who had originally stayed at the post station had all fled. When they saw soldiers in iron armor appear there, they immediately realized that things had reached a point where they could not stay any longer, so they abandoned their businesses and simply packed their valuables and ran away.

As a result, there wasn't even a cook left to prepare food, and they couldn't possibly go hungry to deal with what was to come. So they dug a pit in the fire and roasted some of the leftover ingredients from the kitchen to make do with breakfast.

The sky was beginning to lighten, and the surrounding brightness had increased significantly. Corners that were previously difficult to see even with eyes wide open were now somewhat clear. A donkey that had been burned to death still had some meat on its body that could be used because it hadn't turned into charcoal yet. At that moment, soldiers were cutting it up with daggers.

The ground was covered with messy footprints, and the weeds growing in the corners were even trampled flat on the ground, losing their former vigorous signs of life. The fence around the yard had been reinforced, and the guards ruthlessly demolished the surrounding houses and used the timber to build a stockade wall—quite rudimentary, but it served its purpose, at least making it take some time for uninvited guests to cross.

Looking at the sky, she estimated that the time was about right, then turned back and started digging in the same spot again. She took the wrapped leaf bundle out of the dry, scorching soil, and the meat and taro inside had been thoroughly cooked by the sustained and constant heat, emitting a very rustic aroma when mixed together.

Taking a bite of the thoroughly braised meat, the tender chunks, juicy and perfectly seasoned, were unexpectedly easy to eat, thanks to the limp leaves that served as a barrier against the grease. As he munched on his breakfast, absorbing the pungent smell of burning meat, Colin, who had been gazing into the distance, suddenly slowed his movements. He blinked doubtfully, double-checking twice, before a smile finally appeared on his lips.

"They're here!!"

Chapter 435 Counterattack (2)

As the first rays of the sun touched the land, billowing dust rose from the distant forests. The sound of the army's marching footsteps rolled across the sky like thunder, wave after wave. The gleaming armor and fiery red banners pierced through the dust, tearing apart the hazy green of the morning, and appeared before everyone's eyes.

The cavalry, fully armored, advanced silently in formation, their spears tipped with severed heads, roughly secured by straw ropes threaded through the cheeks. Bloodied bones and tracheas were exposed to the air, the twisted expressions of the dead forever fixed on their faces, with only blood-grubbing flies relentlessly swarming around them.

The armored soldiers walking along also had heads hanging from their waists. The buckles on their leather belts were not only used to secure their swords, but also to hang their spoils on them. At this moment, they had clearly reaped a rich harvest, with many even having two or three heads hanging from their waists.

And so, the blood-stained iron torrent appeared in their sight. The magnificent black eagle banner was the first to greet the sun shining through the mountains. The golden double-headed eagle standing proudly on it reflected dazzling light, its wings full and ready to take flight.

Thesolius looked up at his banner, then stretched out his leg and flicked his skirt armor, loosening the overlapping plates completely. He then strode forward, meeting his army without hesitation. The bright morning light reflected off his armor, creating dappled patterns of light, as if a stream of light was surrounding him.

The Iron Torrents stopped about 100 paces away and quickly reorganized their ranks with astonishing discipline and speed. Bloodied heads slammed against their hips, and the blood-stained armor plates rubbed together as densely as wasps flapping their wings.

Then the procession parted to the sides, and a middle-aged man with a resolute face stepped out. His iron-scaled skirt was smeared with blood, and half of his face was still crimson, not yet wiped clean. But he walked with hurried steps, and eventually started running, heading straight for Tersolius. He ran until he was within ten paces before suddenly stopping and kneeling in a salute.

"My lord, the matter is settled!"

Hersalos wiped the blood from his face. This resilient man, who had always been known as the Stone Man, was also somewhat excited at this moment. Only he knew how much he had gone through to get here, but thankfully he had finally brought the army here and had successfully reunited with his master without any mishaps.

Thesolius laughed, grabbed his hand, and dragged him up from the ground:

"You ran into them?"

“Yes, we caught him—” Hersaros nodded calmly:

"They attempted a surprise attack, but were discovered by our scouts. I mobilized cavalry to surround and kill them. Only a small number escaped, most were executed, and a few prisoners of some standing remain, who can be interrogated at any time."

"We'll talk about that later. Let's get the team organized. We don't have time to rest anymore, let's set off immediately..."

Thesolius looked up at the sky, which was gradually being covered by the sun's rays:

“We are going to destroy a rebellion, Hersalos.”

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

Before sunrise, the imperial capital was already bustling with activity. Countless small vendors and workers got up early to make a living. For them, sleeping in bed until the sun shone in front of them was never a daily occurrence, but rather an extremely rare and precious gift in their lives.

Of course, there's another scenario: they've already lost their jobs. Those who still have savings might drown their sorrows in alcohol, while those who are penniless will be even more worried. But they can all sleep until the sun wakes them up...

Bosdo was such a merchant. He rented a house in this city where land was extremely valuable and made a living by selling fur products from the Eastern Province. Every two months, he had to drive his horse-drawn carriage to personally purchase goods, buying low and selling high to make a profit.

Since the pacification of Cerison in the East, his business has become increasingly easier, especially since the bandits on the roads have been mostly eliminated. Merchants like him are naturally more at ease traveling. After making two trips, he even dared to have his own troops camp by the roadside... This was unimaginable in the East in the past.

But now, that once perilous forest has been completely cleared, and there's even a new town inside. The roads have been widened, and the trees have been cut down. He often goes to that town to buy furs. The villagers there are all experienced old hunters, and the hides they skin are rarely damaged, making it well worth the trip.

People like him, who run small businesses, naturally don't dare to dream of having a shop in this bustling capital. So they usually set up a stall in the market and have to pay a fee every month to rent the stall.

For him, this amount of money was not small, but he never intended to save it—after all, anyone who could do the math would know that this money was well worth the price. In that crowded market, as long as he had enough goods, earning it back wouldn't be easy, but it would only take five or six days.

As usual, he got out of bed before sunrise, got dressed, reminded his wife not to forget to bring lunch, washed his face, and then pushed his cart out the door. Amid greetings and well-wishes from several familiar vendors, he slowly made his way along the wide street.

It's not that he didn't have a carriage, but it was more cost-effective for him to push it himself than to drive one. He could also save some money on fodder, and it wasn't exactly strenuous work. Pushing it there would only make him break a sweat, which would also refresh him.

He continued along Hall Street, turning right at the fork in the road ahead, carefully walking along the side of the road to avoid bumping into the carriages traveling in the middle of the road. He pushed until his arms were hot before finally stopping his cart steadily beside an alley. Then he put down the handle and walked directly to a steaming stall next to him.

This stall was also very simple, with only a small flag hanging on a wooden pole about two people tall. The flag had a sheep's head drawn on it. On a stove made of bricks on the ground, there was an iron pot with white meat soup boiling inside, with tender mutton and radishes simmering in it.

The aroma of mutton soup wafted over him, strong and delicious, making his mouth water involuntarily. However, he only swallowed one mouthful before turning his attention to another pot next to him—it also had milky white broth and bubbling meat and radishes, except that this pot contained mutton offal.

Chopped sheep intestines, lungs, heart, liver, and other tough parts are much cheaper than mutton, so it's naturally more cost-effective and suitable for him to eat this.

He rummaged through his cart and pulled out a ceramic lunchbox, then walked over to the old man who was still busy seasoning the mutton soup.

"Biroyazal, give me two spoonfuls of lamb offal soup, a little less radish, and where did you put your cilantro?"

The cooked mutton soup was priced by the spoonful. The copper spoon placed next to the pot was now shiny from the steam. The white-bearded, hunched old man chuckled as he picked up the spoon and ladled two spoonfuls of soup for him. He then tossed four copper coins into the money box next to him and, without any hesitation, grabbed some cilantro from the box on the other side and sprinkled it into his lunchbox.

The freshly chopped cilantro, stirred by the scalding hot broth, immediately released a wonderful aroma, making him squint his eyes in satisfaction. He couldn't wait to lower his head and take a sip along the edge of the broth. The delicious meat flavor instantly awakened his taste buds and invigorated him.

He absolutely loved the smell, but his woman was different. She loathed cilantro and would even avoid cilantro stalls when shopping, saying the smell reminded her of a flat stink bug crawling among the leaves.

He frowned, took another sip, and then concluded that his wife was talking nonsense... How could bedbugs have such a wonderful aroma?

And so, he used his fork to scoop out a piece of sheep intestine cut into finger lengths from the lunchbox, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed on the tender and chewy meat. At the same time, his eyes never left his little cart. He quickly slurped down the whole bowl of meat soup, then shook the soup off the box, closed the wooden lid, said goodbye to the others, and hurriedly returned to his cart, ready to continue his journey to the market.

It was still dark, but he could still make out the road with the help of the forks in the road and the torches in the square. The sun would take a while to rise, and he needed to pack up his stall before then so he could rest a little longer.

As he silently pondered this, he soon arrived at the market entrance, but stopped abruptly upon seeing the situation... What greeted his eyes was not the bustling market and busy vendors, but soldiers clad in iron armor—standing menacingly around the market entrance, driving the vendors into the market.

A chill ran through him. Some instinct made him subconsciously pull his bike back a few steps before the other person noticed him, hiding back at the street corner. Only then did he cautiously stick his head out again to look at the other side.

After the initial panic, he quickly realized that the soldiers were not arresting them, the merchants, but simply clearing the road to let those who were hesitant and fearful outside enter the market and make way for them. Even some passersby were ruthlessly driven in, and those who resisted were beaten.

Startled by the sight, he silently shrank back a little. After thinking for a moment, he felt it wasn't safe, so he lifted his bike and pushed it into the alley. Then, he slipped out alone, hugging the corner of the wall, this time only showing one eye, carefully observing the other side.

It was already past midnight, and apart from people like them who needed to get up early, the roads were much emptier than during the day. However, because the capital city was so densely populated, it took the soldiers quite a while to clear the road. The people who were driven into the market whispered anxiously, wondering what had happened.

After all, no matter how they questioned the soldiers, they remained silent. Some recognized them as the city guards of the capital garrison, but they didn't know why they had come. Almost everyone was complaining. Merchants complained that their business had been disrupted, while others who had been driven in protested against the soldiers' rudeness and brutality.

This chaos quickly escalated, especially as the number of people gradually increased. The uniquely resolute, strong, and easily excitable national character of the Imperials immediately began to fuel the unrest. With just a dozen or so soldiers, it soon became difficult to quell the unrest... After all, they never gave a proper reason from beginning to end, only brutally beating and driving away others.

Just when Bosdor thought the farce was about to end and secretly breathed a sigh of relief, a sound that sent chills down his spine suddenly began to echo through the city streets. In that instant, his heart almost stopped beating for a moment.

It was a dense and heavy sound of footsteps, accompanied by torches that almost lit up half the sky, and the sound of armor plates rubbing together like the flapping of bees' wings. A torrent of metal rolled in from the end of the street. The cold glint of swords, hammers, and axes dazzled his eyes. The crowd that had just been protesting the expansion of recruitment immediately quieted down. Everyone stared in disbelief at the scene before them, and at the same time, they subconsciously retreated.

The younger ones were simply intimidated by the grand spectacle before them, while the experienced elders had already contemplated some truly terrifying things… things that this city has never lacked.

The capital of an empire is never just about beautiful buildings, wide and bright streets, and prosperous and wealthy people... It is also never short of bloody political struggles, each one causing chaos and uproar.

For a moment, the only sounds on the street were the rustling of armor and the pounding of footsteps as the army passed by. One torch after another flashed past them, and a chilling and menacing atmosphere pressed down on them, making it hard to breathe.

Faint shouts gradually rose from all directions. At first, they were very indistinct, but they became clearer as the source of the sound approached. The clearer the sound became, the more panicked the people became. Some people were so panicked that they could not even stand up straight. Panic-stricken discussions suddenly broke out in the crowd.

"His Majesty has been assassinated! His Majesty has been assassinated! There are rebels in the city! There are rebels lurking in the city!!"

He couldn't even stand up straight and sat down on the ground. Then, realizing what had happened, he turned around and ran without hesitation, not even caring about his car.

Chapter 436 Counterattack (3)

For people of this era, nothing could more devastate their homes and lives than plagues, natural disasters, and war. The former two could only be lamented, but the latter, once it arrived, would bring the most bloody and terrifying nightmare, turning villages and towns into ruins in an instant and turning tens of thousands of lives into withered bones.

Therefore, any person with a sound mind can easily learn to avoid those menacing soldiers when the army is advancing, lest they accidentally get caught up in it and die meaninglessly, like a rat running around in the street being trampled to death.

In the imperial capital today, at this most tiring time of day, such a scene unfolded—armored and armed soldiers, carrying torches, rampaged through the streets, shouting things that sent chills down the spines of anyone who heard them… such as the emperor being assassinated, or the city being in rebellion, making many citizens wish they could gouge their ears out.

This is something you absolutely cannot get involved in... Nobody knows how things will develop. Once this matter starts to implicate others, countless people will suffer, and there will inevitably be a bloodbath with heads rolling and rivers flowing.

As a result of this commotion, people in the city who were planning to get up early for work hurriedly retreated to their homes. Pedestrians on the streets, unable to find shelter in their haste, begged their neighbors to let them in. The streets were littered with all sorts of odds and ends, and some vendors even abandoned their carts of goods, running away in a panic.

At this moment, you can find things everywhere on the streets, but no one dares to have any crooked thoughts... or rather, the fools who would do that at this time would not survive in the capital. Their unintelligent minds would only ruin them at some point, leaving them penniless and even causing their families to be destroyed.

Of course, some people can still show their business acumen in such situations—for example, by charging a fee to pedestrians who are in a hurry to hide in their houses before letting them in, and those who are in a hurry to escape basically have no other choice... As for the consequences of doing such a thing? We'll talk about that later.

And so, in the early hours of the morning, the city's garrison was mobilized without warning, quickly taking over all the city's main thoroughfares. The burning torches in their hands converged into fiery dragons, illuminating the city's streets and alleys, foreshadowing something that was about to happen... something earth-shattering, something that would be recorded in history.

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

Mountain paths are never easy to walk on—because the word itself implies that they are just rugged trails carved out of the mountains, with no weeds or anything too obstructive, nothing more… only slightly easier than those overgrown with bushes and thorns.

On this kind of road, you can see all kinds of rugged terrain, twisting and turning with the terrain, going up and down. If you encounter some huge rocks that cannot be moved, you will have to turn a very sharp bend. Under your feet, you will be walking on rolling stones and dusty mud. If it rains even a little, the dust will turn into dangerous mud, trying its best to reduce the friction between your shoes and the ground.

Walking here requires constant attention to maintain balance, and even more importantly, steady, unwavering steps. Make sure each step is firmly planted before moving on to the next. Otherwise, reckless individuals will always pay the price with bruises, broken bones, and other injuries. The unluckiest among them will probably only learn this lesson in their next life.

At this moment, Ferdiant carefully adjusted his steps. Looking at the steep mountain road in front of him, which was almost 70 degrees, he felt his teeth chattering. With each step, he carefully grabbed the grass on both sides of the road, hoping that these plants with well-developed root systems would provide him with some support.

The mountain people walked very steadily, even chatting and laughing as they went. Their ponies also walked smoothly and steadily, their four hooves constantly crossing over each other, and they made it down this dangerous stretch of road. Even the old man, Bivis, walked quite steadily, skillfully lowering his center of gravity and holding onto the rocks beside him, leaving Bivis behind.

The desolate mountain valleys on either side were no longer the ones where clouds and mist could be seen before, but rather dense, tall trees and lush bushes. Colorful wildflowers bloomed on the grass among the trees, butterflies fluttered around the flowers, and birds chirped and hopped among the branches and leaves. Everything seemed full of life.

This also means that they have traversed the most difficult part of the journey and are quite close to their destination... This is the empire's signature climate and landscape, with a clear difference visible on both sides separated by mountains.

These roads were opened up by hunters, herb gatherers, and woodcutters who went into the mountains to hunt. Obviously, not many people walk on them on ordinary days. In many places, they are even overgrown with weeds. After a while, they may revert to their original state, overgrown with thorns and bushes, and will have to be cleared again.

Seeing that the others had already reached the front, the young man, not wanting to be left behind, hurriedly took a step. This reckless and flustered step landed on some loose, scattered pebbles, causing him to slip forward and let out a startled cry. He quickly grabbed onto some nearby grass to steady himself, but his forehead was already soaked in cold sweat.

Rolling down from here would definitely not end well. Although he wouldn't die instantly like he did before crossing the mountain range, broken arms and legs were a certainty. So he gritted his teeth, squatted down, lowered his center of gravity to the lowest point, and kept his feet still. He used his hands to push against the slope behind him and slowly slid down.

This method worked surprisingly well for him, and he didn't experience the panic that comes with losing his balance. After struggling for a while, he finally caught up with the group ahead. He stood up confidently on a flatter patch and continued walking.

The sun's intensity was diminished by the trees, and the cool breeze blowing from the gap in the mountain peak completely dried the sweat on his forehead. After several bends and turns, they finally emerged from the dense thicket and saw a gentler, flatter slope, making the walk much easier.

After walking a little further, they began to hear the intermittent sound of clear flowing water ahead. Saratag, at the front of the group, turned back excitedly and called out:

"Alright, we've arrived! The Imperial Plains are just ahead!"

"Oh ho!!"

The mountain people cheered with joy, raising their right fists and patting their chests—a ritual they performed to bid farewell to the mountains and forests, signifying a successful hunt and a safe return home.

Sure enough, they soon came across a clear stream. The cool water spray hit them and completely dispelled their restlessness from the journey. The woods became increasingly sparse, and they could see the wide land in the distance through the gaps.

Ferdiant couldn't help but squat down and take out his water pouch from his waist to change the water inside—it was water he had filled in the pool two days ago, and it had already gone bad. He had no choice before, but now he definitely wanted to drink fresh, clear water.

"As planned, we'll arrive at Dosa Village. You've already prepared accommodations. During this time, we'll use the pelts we hunt as cargo, disguising ourselves as a caravan preparing to go out to do business. Everyone, stay alert and don't give anything away. We can't be careless until we actually meet up with our backup."

The clear, cool stream water poured into the brass spout until it was full. Satisfied, he stood up and plugged it with a wooden stopper. With the cool water droplets still on it, he hung it back around his waist, then lay down again and began drinking the stream water from the bank.

Saratag, standing nearby, was still giving everyone a list of precautions, preparing them for the very last moment before they actually set foot on the Imperial Plains. The others changed their water, sat by the stream to rest, and drove their horses downstream to drink, preventing them from polluting the water source.

Bivis had also changed the water in his water bottle and was wiping the water off his beard when he looked up at the bright and spacious scenery in the distance... Just then, a strong wind blew in, bringing with it a dense and vast rustling sound like ocean waves, rolling towards them one after another.