Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Of course, their opponents were not a rabble that could only be slaughtered. Although their javelins were somewhat chaotic, they were equally accurate and fierce. The two sides exchanged blows, and the wounded fell and the dead were constantly being produced. The cold steel clashed and shattered armor, smashed bones, and tore flesh apart. Every retreat of the front line was adorned with corpses covering the ground.

The fighting was exceptionally fierce... but overall, the rebels' formation was shaken more violently. This was partly due to the heavy casualties caused by the relentless catapults, and partly because many people watched helplessly as Tersolius's banner broke through their ranks unscathed, leaving them feeling extremely frustrated.

Many people felt that they had lost their only chance to end the battle decisively. Since Tersolius was still alive, they were doomed... No one thought that after finally escaping from such a formation, anyone would willingly rush back.

Only the officers on the right wing, who had a clearer view, were so panicked they were almost in disarray. The noble senator general in command was also staring dumbfounded at the scene before him. He had a bad feeling ever since the armored cavalry were successfully evacuated, and the scene before him undoubtedly proved his suspicions.

Tersolius didn't expect to break their right flank with just one charge. Instead, he planned to rotate charges with his two elite troops, constantly supporting and coordinating, launching wave after wave of attacks to tear apart their formation! Like a relentless steel blade scraping flesh from bone.

The near-defeat had left many demoralized, and now, with the Imperial Champions leading their elite troops, who had just finished their regrouping, they were instantly routed! The gap that was about to be blocked was torn even wider in an instant, and the formation was about to fall into chaos. At this moment, the armored cavalry had already regrouped and was ready to launch another charge.

In that instant of hesitation, the enemy launched a fierce attack. Rolling iron cavalry surged down the gentle slope, crashing into their already chaotic formation like an iron torrent, causing even more devastating casualties than before! The splattering blood and severed limbs were clearly visible even from a distance. Once the horses' hooves trampled over them, only mangled corpses remained.

The collapse was immediately spiraling out of control. He realized he could no longer hesitate and quickly dispatched his personal guards to try to maintain morale with military law. Even if it was a compromise, he wanted to at least stabilize the current chaos and give himself some time to think of a solution.

But Tersolius never did what his enemies wanted. After inflicting massive casualties once again, he retreated without hesitation. This time, however, he retreated much shorter, just enough for a single charge to accelerate. The elite troops led by the Imperial Champion, like wolves smelling blood, relentlessly tore open the wounds in the formation, creating a bloody path that could be easily breached in a short time, regardless of casualties. The elite archers continued to bravely fire their arrows, inflicting efficient casualties.

Before the routed soldiers could even recover, he launched another charge! Giving the enemy no time to catch their breath or react, he plowed into their chaotic formation once more with a swift and fierce thrust. Warhorses were covered in blood, spears twisted and broken, and wielding iron clubs smashed head after head, helmet and all. Flails and axes tore through flesh and cleaved bones, annihilating the last remaining hundred-man squad that could barely hold together.

The cheers and shouts of the Imperial soldiers almost shook the dark clouds in the sky. Almost every loyalist who witnessed this scene was greatly encouraged. Meanwhile, the rebels' friendly wing, which had been repeatedly ravaged, finally showed signs of breaking down, and more and more soldiers chose to flee. Although they had once been the elite of the nation, they could not withstand such heavy casualties and shocks. And this fear and panic were contagious, spreading even faster under the repeated onslaught of the cavalry.

Tersolius was covered in blood, his gilded winged helmet stained red with blood, and the excellent spear had not disappointed him. It remained straight and strong, and the spearhead was still sharp. He could not see anything except the blood in front of him, but he had keenly sensed the loosening and change in the situation. He almost instinctively realized that the opportunity for victory had arrived!

The spear twirled in his hand, tearing open an officer's throat, then he pointed it forward fiercely, with the cavalry behind him immediately following, charging together towards the flag that had begun to sway... He seized the opportunity without hesitation!

Chapter 502 Battle (19)

His breathing became barely audible, not even a falling leaf could be stirred. His body was lighter than cotton, leaving no trace among the fallen leaves. He moved silently through the bushes like a shadow, with two sharp blades, curved like the fangs of venomous snakes, hidden beneath his black robe.

This is the most fearsome fang of the leader of the hounds. The toxins it produces are far more than one type. Some can kill instantly, while others can bring long and terrible pain. Some can bring death silently and painlessly, like the kiss of death. Its sharpness and toughness far surpass steel. No matter how strong the helmet and armor are, they cannot withstand its piercing.

This is a weapon that may be one of only a pair in the entire world, passed down from generation to generation by each leader of the henchmen, and now it is about to be stained with blood once again.

The area around the target was completely empty, with no defenses whatsoever. She could easily cut off the man's head and leave without encountering any significant obstacles... Of course, that was indeed the case on the surface, but she didn't believe there were only overt forces here; there was most likely some kind of trap waiting for her.

After all, she had hunted down "Turiars," who were used as a disguise, more than once during this period. Those hiding in the shadows must have been on guard, and this place was quite dangerous even for her.

But after a brief moment of thought, she still decided to take action—Turiars's presence here was significant in itself, symbolizing the rebels raising the banner of rebellion against the emperor…they wanted to install a new emperor.

If this so-called emperor were to be beheaded in full view of everyone, then needless to say, the victory in this battle would be beyond doubt, not to mention the subsequent impact on the unrest in those rebellious regions... all of this would help Commander Tesolius and His Majesty defeat them more easily later on. As for whether this so-called Turials was actually the real person, that would be less important.

Under such circumstances, her own safety is the least of her concerns. Moreover, she is not unprepared, and anyone who wants to confront the leader of the henchmen should carefully consider whether they can afford the price.

So we get closer; now all we need to do is get closer.

With her first breath, she moved through the bushes like a ghost, not even taking a single leaf with her. Her black robes didn't flutter loosely; instead, they clung to her body like skin, without catching anything.

With her fifth breath, she was less than a hundred meters from her target. She passed through the small bushes and circled the lush poplar grove. Her strength never wavered as she moved and advanced through patch after patch of shadow.

On her sixteenth breath, she pressed herself against the back of a tall, armored warrior, effortlessly avoiding all sightlines and consistently maintaining a precise blind spot... Now she was only twenty steps away from her target, a distance she was almost certain to capture.

At this distance, she could finish everything in two breaths, even having time to take the head with her. So she didn't hesitate any longer, instantly dispersing into a small cloud of black mist on the spot, and then suddenly appearing in front of Turiars' white horse in the next moment.

An ominous black mist made it difficult to be on guard immediately. To be precise, the first emotion that arose was confusion... confusion about whether one was standing next to a dying fire, with one's vision obscured by the smoke emanating from the damp, unburnt wood.

In that moment of confusion, however brief, a person is completely unprepared, and those who can seize that moment are extremely rare in this world.

So when the pair of silver-green blades flashed through the black mist and then gave a crisp tremor, Turias didn't even realize what had happened... but his instincts had already subconsciously sensed something was wrong, and he reached for the military knife at his waist.

But the action was not completed. Before his fingers could touch the hilt of the knife, a slender hand grabbed his hair and gently lifted it upwards—like removing the lid of a teapot from its spout. His head was thus cleanly and neatly removed, the texture of the muscles, bones, and cartilage at the cut resembling marble patterns…exuding a strange beauty. But this beauty was quickly destroyed as the rapidly gushing blood completely submerged them.

As if showing off something, she raised the head, which still bore a look of surprise, high in the air, grabbed the bloody hair, spun it around to the left, then to the right, while the white horse beneath her feet, still unaware of its master's death, leisurely grazed on the grass.

So, what awaited her? The instant she grabbed the head, her hand moved swiftly down the side of the face like a sharp blade, trying to tear off the human skin mask covering it—but her hand tore at nothing, touching only soft and elastic flesh, with nothing to peel off... This head was always supposed to look like this.

Her body, no longer under her brain's control, finally collapsed to the ground with a thud. Blood gushing from her neck instantly soaked the grass. Only then did the surrounding guards react. After a brief moment of surprise, they shouted and brandished their spears and swords, trying to subdue this uninvited guest.

It took the guards about two breaths to surround her, which gave her a moment to think—with nothing lurking in the shadows to stop her, she simply and naturally severed the man's head, just as expected given the apparent lack of defenses there.

But no matter what, she wouldn't be foolish enough to stand there in a daze and hesitate... So the next moment, the black mist swirled, and most of the spears that were thrusting at her missed their mark. One even left a bloody gash on the warhorse's rump, causing the strong creature to leap up. It took a long time for it to be calmed down, but everyone just looked at each other, not knowing how to understand what was happening in front of them.

It was like seeing a ghost, and this ghost even cut off their commander's head right in front of them... At this moment, even the strongest warriors were plunged into confusion and panic, and this panic and wavering were spreading rapidly. After all, the way the other side had just held up his head and displayed it to the surroundings was too eye-catching, and countless people had already seen it.

Meanwhile, on the right flank of the army, some distance away, Tersolius had just impaled the noble general he had seen a few times in the Senate on the tip of his spear like trash, letting the blood seeping from the general's chest and abdomen soak the handle of the spear and his own fingers, before tossing it aside like garbage... Then he immediately noticed the rapid tremors in the enemy's entire formation.

This upheaval was so thorough and intense that faint sounds of the emperor's death could be heard in the distance. The battle lines, which had been advancing with great difficulty, suddenly began to advance rapidly as if by divine intervention. The enemy's positions were squeezed and deformed like ocean waves.

The voices of the vigilant grew louder and louder until almost all the enemies were shouting—the Emperor is dead! Turias is dead!!

Chapter 503 Cause and Effect (1)

The relentless, damp rain poured down on him, sticking his hair into tangled clumps and making him look disheveled. The only piece of chainmail he wore was almost completely worn away, now emitting a foul, metallic smell mixed with the awful stench of sweat, refusing to give him a moment's peace.

His hair should have been bound by a golden crown, but the crown was nowhere to be found... And even if he hadn't lost it in the chaos, he wouldn't be foolish enough to carry such an obvious thing while fleeing. Even his magnificent armor had been mostly thrown away, with only a relatively lightweight chainmail still remaining.

His horse had long since collapsed from exhaustion on the road. If it weren't for his quick-thinking attendant who pulled him into the mountains, he would likely have been captured by the pursuers and would now be in the imperial camp, suffering humiliation... Even so, he was at his wit's end. Including his attendant, he couldn't even muster five people with him. So, in his desperation and panic, he hid in the cold, damp mountains, not knowing where to go.

Water was not hard to find in the forest, but for him, the hunger in his stomach was even more unbearable... After witnessing the earth-shattering scene, he almost lost all confidence and motivation. In that instant, he could only stay in place and wait to die, his mind blank.

Fortunately, loyal guards forcibly dragged him onto a warhorse and protected him as they forced their way through the crowd to escape. Even so, in the subsequent intense and fierce pursuit by the Imperials, most of his guards were killed, wounded, or scattered, and he ultimately ended up in this predicament... In their panicked escape, who would have thought to carry food? So, in less than two days, they had eaten up the last crumbs of bread in their bags.

The only saving grace was that there weren't many people still gathered around him, so there were still some ways to fill their stomachs... One of his servants came from a poor background and knew how to find food in the forest, but the quantity was limited, enough to keep them from starving to the point of collapsing on the ground.

In such circumstances, the king could not possibly be full. On the contrary, in order to maintain morale, he had to try his best to distribute the food fairly so that everyone could at least have something to eat to barely survive.

The last time they ate was a bunch of red and green wild fruits, sour and slightly sweet. Eating too much of them would make their teeth itch and hurt. They were good at neutralizing the greasiness of roasted meat, but if they were eaten as a meal, they would only cause acid reflux and would not relieve their hunger at all.

In this state of torment from hunger, he had no mind to think about anything else; everything had to yield to the instinct for survival. His mind was consumed with thoughts of where to find something to eat.

He leaned weakly against the wooden stake, too lazy to even wipe the mud off his clothes. His messy hair, like a tattered fishing net, obscured his vision, but he never let go of the sword in his hand—now he had only this piece of sharp steel to rely on.

Just as he was counting the 324th ant climbing up the tree trunk, the two servants who had gone out to find food finally returned with good news—they had not only found a large bag of mushrooms to fill their stomachs, but they had also killed two rabbits with stones, which would be perfect for making a large pot of soup.

So the others immediately perked up and started working together. The jungle was damp and difficult to start a fire, but fortunately they had stored tinder in their clothes beforehand. After some effort, they finally got a fire going, then set up a flatbread, poured in water from the stream, and began to anxiously wait for the broth to cook.

Rabbit meat is very tender and generally doesn't need to be cooked for too long. The mushrooms also look ready to eat—they have a dry, smooth, white-gray exterior, thick flesh, and swollen stems. They are a staple food for local farmers and have a simple name: gray goose leg.

So the soup was cooked without any ripples, and no one paid any attention to the lingering odor in the helmets. If they weren't too afraid to eat raw mushrooms, they probably wouldn't have bothered to wait at all. When the soup finally looked almost ready, a servant, as was customary, took the lead in testing it for poison before everyone else to prevent any poisonous mushrooms from getting in. The others were too hungry to wait any longer, so they symbolically watched him take a bite before starting to eat, haphazardly gnawing on the overcooked chunks of meat and mushrooms.

As king, he naturally enjoyed some preferential treatment—he had a wooden bowl, barely maintaining a semblance of dignity, while the others could only eat the meat by pinching it with their hands or take turns using the helmet as a bowl, their mouths full of black juice—the stains left by the hot soup melting the mud from their fingers and fingernails.

They had never been so destitute before. After all, even the lowest-ranking servants here used to have a relatively decent life. They would never have ended up like a group of beggars, starving and slovenly. But now they had no choice...

No one knows how long the Imperial pursuit will last, but at least for now they have no chance at all—large groups of cavalrymen clad in red cloaks occasionally roar past on the surrounding roads, searching the area like a pack of diligent hunting dogs, and they dare not even peek out from the dense forest.

At least here they can hide relatively easily. The rich forest resources of the Kingdom of Salanod make the forests here often stretch for dozens or even hundreds of miles. As long as they want to hide, it is difficult to be found again. This has also made the banditry here endless and impossible to kill... But now they are just like those bandits, protected by this dense forest.

Although their lives seemed temporarily out of danger, confusion and despair had unknowingly gripped their hearts. No one knew what to do next, not even the king himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't have remained silent for days, like an idiot, only knowing how to eat and sleep.

He knew his foolish appearance was detrimental to people's morale, but he just couldn't muster the energy. Whenever he had free time, he would just let his mind wander, sometimes sad, sometimes angry, sometimes fearful. His mind was a jumbled mess, and he didn't want to do anything. Endless fatigue filled his entire body, but it wasn't physical fatigue, but mental fatigue.

Then, in a moment of clarity, he realized he was almost finished. After six months of hellish torment, after racking his brains and exhausting all his efforts, only to fail miserably, all his past ambitions, his fervent aspirations, his unpredictable moods, and his high position and power had been torn to shreds and could never be pieced back together.

He wasn't even sure if he still had the courage to lead the army... The devastating collapse of an entire army before it even engaged in formal combat was too unforgettable, and his self-doubt had long since reached an extreme level.

He drank the soup in a daze, and in his dejection, his consciousness grew increasingly hazy. Without lifting his head, he put the bowl aside, wrapped himself in a wool blanket, and curled up at the base of a large tree. The king soon fell into a deep sleep, and the sword at his waist was buried in the grass.

But what he didn't know was that the moment he closed his eyes, everyone still drinking their soup suddenly turned their heads, staring straight at him with a strange glint in their eyes...

Chapter 504 Cause and Effect (2)

He didn't know how much time had passed. When he opened his eyes in a daze, he suddenly felt a strange and eerie sensation spreading across his wrists and body. This feeling was so novel and unfamiliar that he didn't react at first... But then his fairly intelligent mind immediately understood something, and he tried to struggle.

But it was all in vain. Despite his face turning bright red and his body writhing like a fish thrown ashore, the ropes woven from fresh, tough bark still bound his body and wrists tightly, even digging into his flesh, tearing his skin and exposing droplets of blood.

This tree bark is used by woodcutters in this area to bind firewood, so they can complete their work using local materials even without carrying ropes. Moreover, it grows extremely fast and has an amazing reproductive capacity. If left unattended for a year or two, it will densely fill those dark corners of the jungle, making it virtually inexhaustible.

The bark of this tree is most flexible when it is dry, but even when it is most wet and vulnerable, it can easily bind a strong donkey... and His Majesty the King was clearly not as strong as a donkey, and as the bark dried, the ropes tightened, completely extinguishing any thought of his struggle.

After several attempts, he was exhausted, weak, and confused, and finally lost the strength to struggle. Gasping for breath, he decided to risk calling for help... He didn't see his servants or guards nearby, but he didn't care about attracting the enemy now; he had to get out of trouble immediately.

"have!--…………"

He opened his mouth to shout, but his throat suddenly went limp as if it had been choked. He stared intently at the guy who had emerged from behind the tree where he had been standing... a young man with light red curly hair, a thin face, bright eyes, and a lean build, who was always by his side as his attendant.

Seeing the other person's composed demeanor, he immediately understood everything and fell silent. Then, seeing more figures emerge from behind the trees, and finally seeing all four of them standing before him, he was momentarily disoriented, unable to speak… After a long while, he managed to stammer out these few words:

"I've treated you all well... why now..."

"To whip people at the drop of a hat, and to execute them on the spot if they show the slightest impatience—is that not cruel?"

His attendants' usually respectful faces were now contorted with anger and resentment, and their gentle eyes, which had always held a smile and caution, now seemed to be burning fiercely.

“A big shot like you has never cared about servants like us! Do you remember how many times the people serving you have changed? Do you remember the servant who was ordered to be whipped to death for breaking a plate? He died with his fingernails torn off, and the skin on his back was ripped off by the whip. He died in excruciating pain!”

"And that girl who was bitten to death by the dog, do you remember her...? You drove your hunting dogs to tear her apart like you were hunting, while you sat on your horse laughing your head off... And the one who suffered such torture was indeed her for not cleaning up the mess you made in time... We've had enough of groveling before you for a life, enough of being your slaves, having to be careful and trembling, not even daring to sleep soundly."

"I'm the one supporting you guys!"

The king seemed somewhat annoyed, uneasy, and fearful, but his attendants showed no sign of backing down.

"You idiot, that's what we got by serving you! What do you think we served you for? Was it because you were born a great king? But now the great king is being chased and beaten like a dog! Tied to a tree like a pig waiting to be slaughtered!"

"What do you have left now? You have nothing!"

Seemingly to vent his emotions, the servant's eyes were bloodshot and he was panting heavily, but a mocking smile played on his lips. Looking down at the struggling king, he felt an intense sense of pleasure, and his long-strained nerves finally relaxed.

Only these servants themselves knew how much fear and anxiety they were living... Although Redbeard Yotserro had been irritable, cruel, and bloodthirsty in the past, he wasn't exactly unpredictable. As long as these servants were careful, they were always fine... But in the past year, this madman was not only tormenting himself, but also tormenting everyone around him.

He watched helplessly as his familiar servants were executed one by one, and those who survived died rather gruesome deaths. How could he not feel a sense of shared fate and resentment? However, as a lowly servant, no matter how resentful he felt, he dared not defy the king until this opportunity presented itself to him.

The moment the army collapsed, he almost figured out what to do next... not just to avenge the torment he had suffered, but more because he knew very well that since the king's army had been defeated and scattered, this land would be ruled by the empire in the future. A king who was dispirited and penniless was naturally a great opportunity. As long as he could bind him and hand him over, it would be a merit.

To achieve this, he spent several days lowering the other party's guard and coordinating with others to persuade them to join his plan. Considering that the other party was a skilled swordsman who was always carrying a sword due to recent fears, he did not want to take any risks and came up with this method.

He had already coated the wooden bowl with poisonous herbal juices long ago. As soon as hot soup was poured in, it would take effect immediately. This way, everyone would be eating the same food, but only the king would be knocked to the ground. Then, taking advantage of this opportunity, he could bind him with strong tree bark, ensuring that nothing would go wrong.

Such meticulous planning led to his current smugness, so it's no wonder he became somewhat carried away with his success.

"And what about you, Julia? Why did you betray me?"

The king turned his head and looked at the only remaining guard beside him:

"I don't think I've ever abused you, so why did you do this?"

A look of shame flashed across the guard's face, though it was only fleeting, but he still saw it clearly.

"I just want to live, Your Majesty... If I continue to follow you, I will surely die. This is the only way to survive. I have no other choice but to stay here."

In the dark forest, Yotesero gave a bitter smile, his face as pale as a corpse… He finally realized that he had no chance left. Only then did he suddenly remember the advice his long-lost logistics supervisor had given him…