Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Just like pouring boiling water into an anthill, the army of the Kingdom of Salanod was instantly routed... and the Imperials didn't even have time to shoot an arrow at them or kill a single person.

None of them had time to think about why, despite the appearance of flags and armor and the dust cloud, no organized army was ever approaching. They were like a flock of frightened birds, having long lost their confidence and courage to fight. Before they even heard the bowstring twanged and were hit by arrows, they were already frantically flapping their wings, preparing to flee.

………………

Natamus raised his eyebrows, then burst into laughter. His loud, deep laughter, like thunder, echoed around him, causing the surrounding soldiers to laugh along with him.

The old man with the wooden cane was also somewhat surprised by the effect before him—they had only hoped to throw the enemy camp into chaos and thus take it down in one fell swoop, but who would have thought that they would collapse so easily, without even having to lift a finger.

After a few breaths, when everyone had finished laughing, Natamus's expression turned cold again. He turned and gave the order:

"Let the cavalry pursue them, tear apart their remaining organization, and scatter them as much as possible. Otherwise, they will become a problem when they regroup. Take action indiscriminately and capture as many as you can. Don't let them roam in large groups."

Chapter 498 Battle (15)

Not pursuing them is impossible, absolutely impossible. Even if Natamus were out of his mind, he would never allow such a large enemy force to escape unscathed. Otherwise, once they come to their senses, they would gather again and become a troublesome force. Even if too many escaped, it would have a terrible impact on the future governance of this land. He did not want to see bandits running rampant here in the future.

As soon as the order was given, more than 1 light cavalrymen on the flanks of the army immediately scattered out, in units of thousands or hundreds, galloping on horseback, whistling like the wind, instantly stirring up countless yellow dust on the ground and crushing countless blades of grass.

Upon seeing this scene, the routed soldiers, who had just been pulled from the camp, cried out in terror and despair and ran even faster. The knights and nobles with warhorses took the lead, ruthlessly knocking down and trampling anyone who stood in their way, bravely carving a path through the fleeing soldiers.

However, their actions immediately provoked resistance. Perhaps it was just to seize their warhorses, but the soldiers who were usually respectful to them had long since forgotten all formalities when faced with a life-or-death threat. Some of those who were not fast enough were immediately hooked off their horses with halberds and smashed down with hammers, dying instantly.

In this way, they could no longer rely solely on their warhorses to break through the road; longswords and warhammers were also brandished... If they hadn't fled in such haste without their lances, they probably would have regrouped for another attack, but they had already slaughtered countless people, leaving behind a bloody mess.

Even the rapidly approaching Imperial cavalry slowed down in confusion, watching the armies of the Kingdom of Salanod slaughter each other... But this situation didn't last long. As the Imperial cavalry drew closer, the routed soldiers realized that the most important thing was to escape, so they stopped fighting each other. However, hundreds of corpses remained where the fighting had just taken place, and the knights and nobles on horseback had long since fled far away.

But for most of them, it was too late to escape... The sound of the imperial cavalry's hooves was like rolling thunder striking the earth. From a distance, they began to hurl arrows like raindrops, not to kill the enemy, but to confuse them, making the already panicked soldiers even more confused, and only when they got close enough did they fire their arrows.

Arrows rained down, whistling through the air. People screamed as they were struck. Those in heavy armor were unharmed, but many who had discarded their armor to avoid slowing down their escape were now reaping the consequences, falling like wheat before a field.

The swift light cavalry immediately unleashed a terrifying killing effect. They fired arrows from a distance, charged with spears at close range, and slashed with swords, tearing the still barely huddled rout soldiers to pieces in an instant. They killed their officers, destroyed their organization, and drove them on like sheep, keeping them constantly on the run.

Beneath the gloomy sky, the red torrent quickly tore apart the colorful ranks, unleashing a torrent of desperate cries and screams... These infantrymen, who could charge light cavalry and leave them bloodied in battle formation, were now slaughtered like lambs, utterly powerless to resist. To escape faster, they threw away their armor and weapons, and many even plotted against their comrades.

In this way, like herding a herd of antelopes, the light cavalry skillfully handled these retreating soldiers through tacit division, encirclement, and outflanking maneuvers. They neither coerced them excessively into fighting to the death, nor indulged them too much, giving them a chance to escape, until they gave up resistance and were captured by the troops that followed.

Under the relentless onslaught of the cavalry, the plain was soon littered with corpses. The infantry formations were rendered useless; the army that had previously stood in their way crumbled.

From beginning to end, the imperial army never had a chance to fight this army before it was completely dragged down by its own problems. Like a high sand dune, sometimes all it takes is a kick to make it collapse. What makes it fall is not the force of the kick, but its inherently unstable structure and accumulated gravity.

Natamus calmly watched his army pursue the enemy, then rode into the camp with his personal guards. The ground was already piled with corpses, and the area near the gate was in complete chaos, all of them killed by their own men's swords, hammers, axes, trampling, and crushing.

Everything in the camp was in a mess. More tents had been knocked down, and their contents had been looted and scattered everywhere. Countless footprints were imprinted on the wet mud on the ground, and blood had stained some of them crimson.

The camp was actually quite well-established and sturdy, with wooden stakes as thick as a thigh supporting the walls. There was an arrow tower every ten steps or so, and it was backed by a valley and faced a plain, allowing for easy attack, defense, and retreat. Although it couldn't compare to a city, it was more than enough to support the army in resisting the enemy. If he were to launch a direct assault with his current forces, it would be difficult to take it down.

But before his soldiers had even shed a drop of blood, his warhorse had already trampled the land within the camp... Even someone as calm and resolute as him couldn't help but feel a little smug at this moment.

This was a decision he made after discussing it with his capable advisor—of course, he couldn't send a large army to go around to the enemy's rear. The rivers, mountains, and forests were more than enough to ensure the rear of the Salanod Kingdom's army. Even if he did send a large force, it would be easy for the enemy to detect it. Even if they didn't detect it, who knew when they would actually get around to the enemy's rear.

Of course, while the main force couldn't get through, the scouts still had ways to get through... After all, he knew very well that the enemy's morale and fighting spirit had been squeezed to the limit. He didn't need to actually send the army over; he just needed to make the enemy think they were surrounded. A simple bluff could immediately achieve a wonderful effect.

In this way, several scout teams blocked the road by pushing rocks down from the mountaintop and cutting down trees, forcing the supply teams to spend more time clearing the road. Their messengers, who were sent out to report the situation, were intercepted and killed. This also delayed the army's camp from receiving supplies for three days, naturally causing them to become suspicious.

Then, at the pre-arranged time, they made as much noise in the jungle as possible by dragging large branches behind their warhorses, raising flags and displaying their armor—it didn't even take long, just enough for someone in the camp below to see it, and then the rumors would spread and become more complete on their own. The panicked enemy would frighten themselves and wear down their own morale.

In this way, the country's last resistance was destroyed, and the land behind these mountains was no longer an obstacle for them.

In high spirits, Natamus ordered a great reward for the scouts who had made great contributions. The camp was not completely demolished, but some crooked and irregular parts were renovated to make it look like an imperial military camp. This place would be useful later. Even if the red-haired king did not build one here, they would still have to build one, after all, the location was right there.

A small force is enough to block the entrance to the valley and protect a large area beyond... This is absolutely correct, but the premise is that the army has confidence and morale; otherwise, no matter how many troops there are, they will be weak inside.

After laughing for a while, Natamus began to ponder again... He inevitably thought about the situation in the empire. Although the turmoil had not yet affected his rear, he was thousands of miles away, and it was difficult for him to know the war situation inside the empire in time. Even though he would read the news four or five times every time it was sent, he still felt anxious every time he thought about it.

The situation in the West is no longer a problem. Without the Kingdom of Salanod as a gateway, the remaining countries can be easily conquered by following the established procedures. This is his only concern.

Of course, he had no doubts about his brother's abilities. He knew very well that he was far inferior to Tersolius in some aspects, so no matter how worried he was, he would not allow himself to think about the worst possible outcome, but he couldn't help but care.

When will the next letter arrive...?

Chapter 499 Battle (16)

He drew the longbow to its fullest extent, the sharp and sturdy arrow trembling slightly with the immense force. Only when the finger holding the bowstring was released did the arrow dart out like a swordfish darting through the sea, flying towards its target with lightning speed.

In the blood-soaked air, the arrow struck a thin piece of steel, and a tremendous force was instantly transmitted, causing the quenched steel tip to gradually bite into it. The hard and thick blades on both sides forcefully pried open the opening, and like a powerful live fish, it suddenly burrowed in, touching the flesh, tearing through the bone, and finally piercing the eyeball like a bubble.

Seeing her target fall to the ground as she had expected, she quickly reached for an arrow, but her fingers found nothing in the quiver. She frowned and turned to yell at the auxiliary soldier who was responsible for replenishing her arrows... only to find that he had been shot through the throat by an arrow and was lying on the ground bleeding. Meanwhile, his replacement was a dozen paces away, carrying a bundle of arrows and rushing over.

Although it wasn't her own will, Colin finally had time to observe the situation properly again—and the situation was just as she had predicted. Although difficult, it was still progressing in the expected direction. The blood shed by both sides had already accumulated into a pool in the hollows of this hillside, far exceeding the soil's absorption rate. The piled-up corpses hadn't even been cleared away yet, and the warriors at the forefront were fighting on the corpses. The long axes and halberds they wielded were no longer as sharp as they once were, all covered with a thick layer of blood. Only the blades that frequently cut through flesh could occasionally reveal the cold color of steel.

Although they rotated constantly, the accumulation of wounds never stopped. The dead and the wounded who were unable to fight were sent to the rear, causing their fighting numbers to continue to decrease. By now, although their physical strength could be restored, they could no longer have the same sharp fighting power as at the beginning.

Of course, their results were equally remarkable—the enemy's right flank had been compressed to an exaggerated extent. No matter how many troops they increased, they could not push the battle line back. They were just constantly adding corpses to the line. Obvious wavering had begun to spread throughout the right flank and was even showing a tendency to spread to other areas.

Without a doubt, the time was almost right... Next, they would launch a decisive attack to completely crush the rebels' formation. The catapult positions that had been maintained in place had already roared again, hurling powerful stone projectiles into the enemy lines.

The other side had the upper hand and outnumbered them, so they couldn't afford to delay any longer. They just didn't know when the order would be issued...

Ugh!

A long, clear horn sounded from behind, both deep and resonant, sweeping over her like a whirlwind soaring into the sky, instantly invigorating her. Just as the agreed-upon moment arrived, Karila, who was hacking and slashing through the enemy ranks ahead, took two steps back and turned around after felling her opponent with an axe. The two looked at each other and nodded in unison.

Therefore, the officers in the entire line immediately began to coordinate and command, making the square formation quickly clear the way to both sides, revealing the gentle slope that they had already trampled down... The slope was neither too steep, which would cause the horses to break their hooves when charging, nor too flat, which would reduce the power of the digging. It was just right, like the curve on a blade.

This was the battlefield they had chosen, and the formidable projectile positions undoubtedly drove the enemy here... Now, these former imperial soldiers were about to face the most terrifying cavalry on the entire continent, the trampling and charging of monsters like the Passatrian warhorses.

Of course, they couldn't have been the only ones to hear the bugle call, but the enemy couldn't possibly realize what it meant... By the time they saw the armored cavalry arrayed on the hilltop, it was too late to do anything.

Tersolius gripped the shaft of the spear, feeling the weight of the paint that was as brilliant as a sunset. The spearhead at the end was polished to a gleaming shine, like a mirror, without a single obvious scratch or rust. The tiny, gilded dragon head prevented it from piercing too deeply, and as it swept across the ground, it cleanly cut through the fluttering blades of grass.

The long tassel on his helmet fluttered behind him, while golden wings soared to the sides. Under the full-coverage helmet, his vision was naturally obstructed, but he was already used to this kind of field of vision, which was sufficient for him.

Just then, a sliver of light suddenly appeared in the moving clouds, and bright golden light poured down, illuminating a distant hill. He squinted, focusing his attention on it for a few seconds, before turning away without hesitation. Then, he raised his right hand, spun it three times, and swung it forward!

Rumble, rumble...

The heavy hooves began to slowly pound the ground, like countless war drums beating at once. Soil and grass were kicked up and crushed. Countless armor plates rubbed and collided with each other, making a crisp and dense hissing sound. The proud and irritable warhorse raised its neck and neighed. The densely arranged spears swayed like seedlings in response to the light.

Rumble, rumble...

Like a boulder rolling down a hillside, with unstoppable momentum and power, it seemed poised to crush and destroy everything in its path… The enemy lines, which had barely held firm against the repeated assaults of Carila's elite armored warriors, began to visibly crumble. Many soldiers, without orders, retreated uncontrollably, their panicked cries and forced attempts at composure echoing endlessly. Those armored warriors wielding spears, ordered to advance, were met with a devastating barrage of arrows from Colin's archers. The dense rain of arrows pinned them down, preventing them from even raising their heads. And then, the previously gentle rumble turned into a thunderous, suffocating roar—the Passatrian warhorses had clearly begun to gallop.

This happened just as a thousand-man unit had been defeated and the replacement troops had not yet had time to come forward to provide support. The soldiers jostled and bumped into each other, their ranks in complete chaos. In some places, they were so crowded that they could not even lift their hands, just like a densely packed group of porcelain jars. The next moment, the armored warhorses, which had already accelerated, crashed into them.

boom!!--

Like thunder striking the earth, the deafening roar shook the very soul. Countless people were thrown back and trampled over. The hooves of warhorses were instantly covered in thick blood. Spears, aided by the terrifying impact, easily pierced through heavy armor and continued forward without mercy, carving a bloody path of death with their terrifying power.

As if to accompany this bloody and magnificent scene, countless cheers, screams, wails and cries erupted in the next moment, sweeping in all directions like a storm. The right wing of the rebels, which had been squeezed and worn down to the extreme, began to collapse from this weak point. Countless people lost the courage to continue fighting at this moment and began to try to retreat almost tacitly.

A deadly chaos began to gather... Even elite legions, seasoned in years of fighting against barbarians, could hardly withstand the onslaught and casualties of this moment, while deafening cheers rose from the loyalists' positions, soaring into the sky. They nearly shattered the clouds and leaves along with them; the vast, continuous formations had launched a full-scale counterattack!

Chapter 500 Battle (17)

The raging warhorse crushed a leg covered in armor plates with its hooves, and then, without pausing for a moment, continued to trample forward, crushing the bones covered in steel armor and clothing like crunchy biscuits. The terrifying mass of the armored cavalry became its most lethal weapon at this moment, and in an instant, it trampled and carved a bloody path.

There were no fancy horsemanship or martial arts techniques to play with; it was just a swift and brutal piercing through the weakest point of the formation, tearing out large chunks of flesh and blood, just like a knife cutting through flesh and blood, creating a bloody area in an instant.

The forest of spears pierced countless men, and the heavy hooves trampled countless more. Blood, screams, and the stench of entrails mingled with the pungent smell of blood, forming a terrifying red cloud. War cries and furious shouts, like whips driving sheep, drove away the terrified enemies.

In this seemingly ordinary charge, hundreds of people were killed, their bodies mangled and bloodied. Their speed inevitably began to slow down. Although the incredibly strong warhorses were still bravely advancing, the dripping blood and piles of corpses under their feet were resolutely blocking their path. Some people's spears were broken by the violent impact, and they were now using their iron clubs to smash the enemy's heads, denting helmets and bones.

But the enemy army did not completely collapse. There were still generals in their rear who could organize resistance. As the speed of the warhorses' charge slowed down, large groups of spearmen and crossbowmen began to organize and approach from the rear. Once they completely lost their terrifying momentum, they would immediately surround them and tear them off their horses one by one under the barrage of spears and halberds, killing them all.

If Tresolius still had those 2000 armored cavalry under his command, he was fully confident that he could completely break through the formation in front of him and trample the enemy's commander into mud... But with only the 400 cavalry he had now, he was ultimately powerless. After all, he was not facing an opponent who would break apart with a single charge, but the Imperial Legion's heavy infantry, who could fight in formation and were tenacious.

Moreover, although the charge just now killed countless people, they were also deeply trapped in the enemy's formation. This seemingly opportune moment immediately excited the officers and generals behind them, who urged countless infantrymen to try to keep them there.

After all, a reckless charge is a major taboo for heavy cavalry. Although it is unknown why Tersolius made such a rash decision, since he did not break through the entire formation, they have a great opportunity!

This opportunity was enough to ignite courage in everyone. The temptation to kill Tersolius was too great. Even many of the fleeing survivors who had just escaped from the mountains of corpses and seas of blood mustered their courage, were reorganized, and launched a frenzied counterattack, which was about to overwhelm them.

The spear in his hand pierced the neck of an enemy centurion with deadly force, tearing through the chainmail, bone, and flesh. As the spear spun and returned, it tore open large swathes of muscle, and with dripping blood, it sent a soldier wielding a halberd who was trying to approach flying. Tersolius glanced at the situation, then without hesitation raised his right hand, spun it three times, and swung it down to the left.

The officers among the cavalrymen who were wreaking havoc immediately received the signal. The disciplined armored cavalrymen suddenly rallied as one, and then the front ranks became the rear ranks, retreating without hesitation... Although most people thought it was too late for them to leave at this point, the soldiers who had just been defeated regained their courage, and small groups of soldiers kept surging up during the retreat, trying to hold them back. Spears exploded from the sides from time to time like dangerous bushes, and the arrows shot from the rear gradually became denser.

But relying on their sturdy and thick armor, the cavalrymen spurred their still-energetic Passatrian warhorses across the carpet of flesh and blood they had created, charging back relentlessly. Most arrows only managed to scrape sparks off their armor plates or get stuck there; only a few heavy arrows from powerful crossbows or those that hit weak points managed to wound them. And so far, not a single one of them had fallen from their horse, nor had any of them lost their ability to fight.

"Stop them! Stop them!"

Turials, standing at the rear, had bloodshot eyes... The moment Tesolius led his cavalry out, he almost thought it was all over...

He had witnessed such a scene more than once, and the scene then was almost exactly as he had predicted—the soldiers lost all morale, turned and fled for their lives, the entire formation was torn to pieces, the knights recklessly hacked and stabbed everywhere, leaving behind piles of corpses and miserable howls, the iron hooves of warhorses trampled flesh and blood into the mud, and twitching limbs and bones were crushed and crushed together.

He almost didn't dare to look, and even waited in despair for the bad news to reach his ears. He subconsciously prepared to lead his troops in a retreat, and even thought about how to regroup his troops to minimize losses... But who could have imagined that they would actually hold them off?!

This surprise even made him panic for a moment. He was stunned for a while before he hurriedly gave the order to send out all the few remaining reserves around him, hoping that these reserves with plenty of physical strength and morale could have an unexpected effect.

It was only then that he realized he had been blinded by concern—no matter how outrageous Tersolius was, he still only had a few hundred cavalrymen. Their heavy formation, composed of legionary heavy infantry, was not something that such a force could break through. Even if they found an opening and defeated and killed many, it would be impossible; on the contrary, they would make things worse and trap themselves in a tight encirclement.

At the same time, however, a sense of panic and worry inevitably arose in his heart—he did not believe that Tesorus would be so reckless and foolish. If the other party dared to do this, there must be a specific meaning to it, and it must play a role in some way.

Even if the signs before them seem to confirm the other party's miscalculation, as long as the person who made this decision is Thesolius, even if it seems reckless and foolish, it ultimately hides some kind of deadly threat and scheme.

So, his eyes were fixed almost without blinking on the right flank of the army. Under extreme tension, his hands trembled uncontrollably, his teeth were clenched tightly together, and his tongue felt as stiff as lead.

He sincerely hoped... that the man's flag would be swallowed up by his own army, and only then could everything be considered a success.

But things don't always go as planned... Even though he had almost strained his eyes to see blood... he still witnessed the scene he didn't want to see...

Chapter 501 Battle (18)

The halberd came crashing down on his head with a heavy whooshing sound. The heavy, crescent-shaped axe blade was a considerable challenge to any armor. Even if it didn't tear the helmet, the heavy force would make him dizzy and disoriented. But before that, his spear had already used its length advantage to pierce through the opponent's chest, penetrating a layer of lamellar armor and a layer of chainmail, piercing through bone, flesh, and even the lungs.

Like throwing away trash, Tersolius tossed aside the corpses on his spearheads and continued his charge, piercing through enemies one by one who tried to stop him, like piercing stakes. His swift and passionate warhorse skillfully chose its landing spot on the ground piled with corpses, maintaining an extremely fast speed at all times.

This was a miracle only the Passatrian warhorses could achieve—after a fierce charge, they still had plenty of stamina to retreat, without any of the limitations of ordinary armored cavalry… But they were wearing too many layers, and they were about to be surrounded by the enemy's formation. The excited shouts of the rebel officers had even made their throats hoarse.

But Tersolius felt no panic... because his men had already arrived to meet him.

A forest of spears and axes, accompanied by the resounding clang of armor, rolled in. Karila, having recovered her strength during a rare respite, led her troops to meet them at that moment, plunging headlong into the gap torn open by the cavalry. Instantly, they dealt a crushing blow to the enemy troops who had broken formation in their pursuit of the cavalry. Axes and halberds flew up and down, smashing and killing them like melons. Relying on their dense ranks, they continued to advance.

The mountain archers, having replenished their arrows, also arrived at their designated positions. They drew their powerful bows and unleashed a hail of heavy arrows, each aimed at the enemy's vitals, each arrow bearing fruit. Bravely facing the enemy's counter-attacks, they began to inflict heavy casualties. The two forces, working together, instantly tore the gap wide open once again, shattering the newly organized resistance.

Under their cover, the cavalrymen calmly broke away from the enemy's formation and regrouped along the prepared path to the gentle slope. They calmed their raging warhorses, recovered their strength, replaced their broken spears, and cleaned the blood and flesh scraps from their horses and armor.

It's like a sharp blade piercing through the chest, then being swiftly pulled out, the blade rubbed clean to wipe away the blood, carrying a chilling aura of blood, ready to plunge back into the flesh and continue the horrific slaughter.

Meanwhile, other lines launched a full-scale counterattack. The Imperial soldiers, their morale greatly boosted, seized the opportunity when their enemies were wavering and threw out the javelins they carried—each soldier carried five, each javelins heavy enough to penetrate armor and embed themselves in shields, instantly inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy. Then, they raised their spears, halberds, swords, shields, axes, and hammers, and bravely launched a charge, almost immediately shaking the enemy's lines.