Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

At this moment, the former king could no longer maintain his composure and elegance. He ate with the same unrestrained and slovenly manner as the most lowly beggars, his mouth dripping with oil, the glistening sauce mixed with the grease flowing down his hands covered in black grime.

It wasn't until he broke off the third piece of pie and wolfed it down that the king seemed to remember he knew how to use utensils. He then grabbed the three-pronged fork and wooden spoon beside him and continued to wolf down his food.

His eating manner was so unsettling that one might worry he was swallowing the fork in his hand, causing the soldiers on guard outside the tent to steal glances back, their eyes beneath the steel nose helmets filled with disdain and curiosity.

And so, he wolfed down his food for half an hour, almost tearing his throat apart. Every second he was stuffing food down his throat like a starving ghost, clearing out enough food for three or four people on the table, and even wiping the plates with bread.

Soon someone came in to clean, wiping the table spotless, and he finally had time to get his mind working and think... or rather, he had some leeway. The king, who had never endured hunger before, had long been tormented by the hunger and cold of the past few days. In this respect, he was far less resilient than his servants.

He quickly realized that his current situation was hopeless... or rather, there was no hope he wanted. He had lost everything and had no chance left. After all, he had already gone all in, and if he failed, he would be utterly defeated.

His land had been ravaged by the army he supported, leaving the people destitute. This army had been rendered useless before collapsing, leaving countless corpses behind. He guessed there must be many, evidenced by the faint stench of decay that could be smelled even here.

He wasn't given much time to think. Soon after, two more soldiers came in and moved the table in front of him out, leaving only a chair in the tent. Then, a series of heavy footsteps, accompanied by the clattering of armor plates, echoed nearby. Clearly, a large group of armored soldiers was on the move.

The tent door was opened, letting in the bright light from outside. The ground, which had been trampled and hardened, was only covered with tiny weeds growing tenaciously. A tall, strong shadow quickly blocked out most of the light, and the rugged face, as if carved by a knife and axe, appeared even more angular when backlit.

His entire body was covered in armor plates that protected him from his neck down to his knees, which were then replaced by gilded knee pads and leg armor. A heavy sword with a blade that was significantly longer and nearly a hand's width hung at his waist. His brown leather belt had gilded bronze buckles, which was imposing enough, but not at all luxurious.

This was the typical attire of a high-ranking imperial officer, but the man's inexplicably suppressed aura already revealed his identity. However, Redbeard Yotsero no longer cared about anything, so he didn't even bother to stand up, simply staring at the other man numbly and calmly.

“You can relax a little, Your Majesty. I’m not going to cut off your head. Your head will be more useful on your neck, so you can still live.”

Without any beating around the bush, Natamus got straight to the point, stating what he wanted to say. He looked at the disheveled and unkempt man in front of him with a calm yet dangerous gaze, still blocking the light from outside the tent, making the interior dim.

“Then I am truly honored… You have won, my lord, without a doubt, and beautifully… I should have realized long ago that I had already lost the moment you appeared on my land, yet I was still unwilling to give up and made a last-ditch effort… Now I have nothing more to say, only one question I want answered.”

"You can ask."

"How exactly did you cross that mountain range?"

As expected, the question that Redbeard Yotserro most wanted answered was still this one, after all, a loser would certainly not be indifferent to the reasons for his defeat.

"The reason is simple: there was a road there... a road that could only barely allow one person to pass through. My legion spent more than a month gathering and preparing there to widen and dig this road. I only started working on it when I was sure of its success. It was a coincidence that we were able to discover this road, but your help was indispensable."

In the dimly lit tent, for the first time, a look of surprise and doubt appeared on the face of the former king…

Chapter 514 Gray Shadow (3)

"A bunch of mercenaries, a pack of hyenas chasing the tail end of war, scavenging for scraps! All because of them! All because of this kind of guy!..."

His wide eyes were bloodshot. His face was contorted beyond recognition, and his mustache trembled like a worm wriggling in the sea. Jottheroh, the former king of Salanod and now a prisoner, felt his mind was about to explode.

He naturally pondered the reasons for his defeat during those days of despair and helplessness. He considered that the nobles might have betrayed him, that spies might have discovered some flaws that he hadn't even noticed, and he even suspected that a certain country in the west had defected to the empire and let their army over...

He never imagined that those insignificant cannon fodder, chasing after survival in war, could deliver such a heavy blow to him! It was as heavy as a dagger stabbing into his vest, slicing through his heart and lungs, instantly wiping out most of the country's ability to resist.

Just as a person can never realize that a rabbit will kill him, he would never have imagined that a group of mercenaries would destroy his kingdom before he learned the truth! And a group of mercenaries that he originally planned to use as pawns in the war against the empire, casually scattered on the battlefield!

"And what's really interesting is that they made this decision because they learned on their way to the front lines that you planned to use them as cannon fodder. So they made up their minds to take advantage of the rainy season and, together with several mercenary groups, widen and repair the road on this side of the mountain. Before that, they even sent messengers to contact the Empire... Ultimately, it was you who forced them onto this path. It was your cruelty, stubbornness, and vindictiveness that left them with no other choice."

"Mercenaries are indeed hyenas that feed on war, but precisely because of this, they never lack courage and cunning. When they are cornered, they are capable of anything... You thought you could control everything, so you didn't care about them at all, and that's one of the reasons for your failure."

He was usually quite eloquent, but at this moment he couldn't utter a single word. The stark reality had shattered his self-esteem and everything else that supported him, leaving him completely stunned.

"Of course, I was just being sarcastic. It's just a victor's casual boast. If you had reacted quickly enough and noticed beforehand, I certainly wouldn't have had it so easy... Alright, Your Majesty, I have nothing more to say now. You can rest in this tent; no one will bother you for the time being."

Natamus stood up with satisfaction. The glory of conquering an enemy country made him feel somewhat smug, but he quickly calmed down and realized that there were still many things he needed to do.

The tent flap was lowered, blocking out the light and making the place dim. Soon, a servant came in and lit a lamp, but the only guest remained silent, like a broken stone statue.

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

"Aha! You've finally arrived."

The familiar arid desert, even the tree branches are dry and full of cracks, the dust on the ground is completely devoid of moisture, only yellow and fine dust covers the hard ground, and taking a step will bring a wave of heat that will seep into your pants.

The black dog, still lame in one leg and emaciated, stood by the puddle watching him. In the filthy, stinking puddle, there was another corpse—a glossy-furred antelope lay dead in the puddle, white maggots wriggling in its mouth and nose.

The animal was rotting, but it was still much fresher than the goat next to it, with edible meat beneath its shiny fur. The dog, however, just stood there and didn't even glance at it.

He sighed, but didn't get angry. He just sat listlessly on the dry ground, looking at his tattered clothes and the dirt on his skin. After a long while, he suddenly grinned.

"Yes, I'm here. I don't know what you're going to do, but whatever, I don't care anymore. I have nothing left now, nothing worth caring about."

He watched intently as a gleaming flea leaped from between his wrist and clothes. It was so small it was almost like a speck of dust, yet it had a shiny carapace and powerful legs, relentlessly trying to suck more blood from his flesh.

He never imagined that such a thing would appear on him. After all, his gorgeous and expensive clothes used to fill several large wardrobes, and his servants took great care of them every day. Not to mention fleas, there wasn't even a speck of dust in sight. But when he actually saw it now, he wasn't too surprised.

After all, such a small thing complemented his current tattered clothes perfectly, just as a king's clothes are decorated with jeweled buttons, a beggar's clothes must also have fleas crawling around.

"Haha, it seems you've already figured it out."

An old, thin, lazy, and bald dog walked towards him, its eyes flashing with a cold and indifferent light. It brought its ugly head close to his face, and a foul stench emanated from between its yellowed teeth, almost suffocating him.

“You are no longer qualified, no longer qualified. This land has nothing to do with your bloodline anymore, so I will take back what is rightfully mine according to the oath I made.”

"I remember now..." The king suddenly looked up, a look of sudden realization quickly appearing on his face:

"I originally thought you were a legend... something a mother tells her child every night. I never imagined you would actually come to life. Or were you just a figment of my imagination from the very beginning?"

"Perhaps. Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination, a childhood memory that sprouted from the mind of a king who has been defeated time and time again. It's a mental torment you inflict on yourself. Of course, I could also be real, the monster that stepped out of your story, ready to demand retribution from the king's bloodline."

The black dog grinned, revealing his teeth in a truly frighteningly ugly way. However, he keenly noticed that the other's yellowed teeth suddenly seemed to have become more even, less scattered, and less uneven.

"So, are you ready?"

The black dog turned to him and smiled again, and after a brief moment of stunned silence, the king slowly nodded.

"Fine, this should be a good outcome for me. I've paid off my debts, I'm free of worries, and I'm spared from humiliation... Are you going to eat me?"

A chilling remark escaped his lips, but the black dog in front of him merely shook its head… The fur on its head had grown considerably thicker, covering the bald patches on its skin.

"No need, just say those words... The contract has been dissolved."

A cracking sound of bones grinding together suddenly rang out. Right before his eyes, the black dog's hind leg bones, which had been curled up, suddenly twitched and slowly straightened until they were fully restored and touched the ground. Its hunched back also slowly straightened, and its body rapidly expanded as if inflating, with hot blood and strong flesh beginning to grow inside.

Its muscles and bones regained their strength, its eyes regained their brightness, its teeth became strong and sharp again, even its limp ears perked up again, and its fur became thick and smooth, reflecting a luster like silk.

In the blink of an eye, the ugly, old black dog transformed into a strong and beautiful black wolf, its head no longer bowed, but held high and proudly, calmly gazing at him.

The former king looked at it and chuckled, though it was unclear what he was laughing at. Then, an irresistible drowsiness washed over him, completely engulfing him and slowly fading his consciousness into darkness.

Chapter 515 Eliminate the Weeds at the Root (1)

"What, dead?"

Natamus frowned, looking at the old man before him, almost unable to believe his ears, while the man nodded without hesitation:

“That’s right, my lord. The King of Salanod has died in his tent. There are no wounds on his body, nor any signs of poisoning. He died very naturally, just like an old man who died of old age.”

"Could it be that I said a few too many things yesterday and angered him to death...? It can't be that bad, can it? If he only had that much temper, what kind of king would he be..."

Natams scratched his head with some doubt... This guy died a quick death, but left him with a lot of trouble, and the next plan would have to be adjusted.

Logically speaking, although this former king had been suffering greatly recently, he still had the physical constitution he had in the past, and he didn't usually indulge in excessive drinking and womanizing. When they found him, although he was starving, he was still able to walk. Who would have thought that after eating a full meal and taking a nap, he would die in his bed like this...

As far as he knew, the king had only one son who was currently traveling in other countries and probably didn't realize that he had lost everything and gone from being a prince to someone of some use.

Although the king's death was rare, it was not without precedent. Some people who had suffered greatly were suddenly liberated and treated well, but instead lost their will to live and died suddenly. However, Yotesero did not suffer the same abuse as slaves. The worst time of his life was when he was defeated and fled, hiding in the mountains and eating mushrooms for a few days.

"So be it, he's dead. We weren't really expecting him to be of any particular use anyway. It's just that the absence of this special trophy will definitely diminish our triumph, but his crown should be a good substitute to make up for it."

With a slightly regretful sigh, Natamus stood up, hung his greatsword on his belt, and walked out of the tent, with the old man following behind him. The two plunged into the dense footsteps and horns.

The imperial army's camp was stirring. Every soldier was busy with their own tasks, packing their bags and spoils, tightening their armor, and putting on their boots at the officers' commands. Carrying their spears, they hurriedly assembled into ranks, standing ready under their respective banners.

They had reaped great rewards in the previous war, and now they were about to set off for the next one. Everyone was filled with anticipation. Even though a country had just been destroyed by them, the soldiers of the empire would never be satisfied. After opening the gates to the west, their ambitions went far beyond that.

They want more; they want to seize more land for the country and more wealth and glory for themselves. Natamus will, as always, lead them to take and seize.

This time, his target is the Kingdom of Windeg, which is right next to Salanod, and it has everything he needs to spread destruction... everything.

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

"Your Excellency, you must have misunderstood something! I have absolutely no connection with those rebels! I have always been loyal to the country!"

A middle-aged man dressed in gorgeous silk clothes was roughly pulled out of the marble-carved gate by soldiers. One of his shoes was missing, his hair was torn and messy, and his face was bruised and swollen. He had obviously received some unpleasant treatment for struggling.

His former noble status was now lower than mud. At least these fierce soldiers didn't care; they would punch and kick anyone who resisted, treating him no differently than a slave... or even worse, since slaves were used to obedience and wouldn't suffer additional abuse and beatings.

But he couldn't care less about the unfair treatment. Faced with imminent disaster, he only wanted to desperately grasp at that sliver of hope—in the instant he was dragged out the door, he saw that tall, imposing, and dignified figure.

To his despair, the other party didn't even turn to look at him. He was surrounded by generals and officials, pointing at an unfolded map. The soldiers continued to drag him backward, and he was even slapped twice more for being slow. Then, like a dead pig, he was lifted up and thrown into a cage on the carriage.

The cage bars, made of wrought iron, were as thick as a thumb, and even a strong man would find them difficult to budge. They were covered in an ominous dark brown color... the marks left by the prisoners struggling in this desperate cage, and he never imagined that he would end up in such a state.

He didn't want to stay here any longer. He was terrified, his face was as pale as a corpse, and the excess fat on his body from his past life was trembling as if he were being electrocuted. The familiar voices that kept coming from the street made his heart almost stop beating.

All officials in the province and cities were arrested... This was the first order given by Tersolius's army after they arrived. Without exception, any official with even a little power had to pay the price for their past actions.

After the city's officials were all removed, the vacant positions were immediately filled—selected young officials quickly took over these positions and assumed their original responsibilities, beginning to maintain the city's operation and supply the army with provisions.

Tersolius made no attempt to conceal his intentions—he wanted to thoroughly clean up the provinces of the rebels, destroy their families, uproot their power, and completely destroy the roots that had allowed them to entrenched themselves here in this failed rebellion, while simultaneously bringing these lands back into the hands of the empire.

This is the leisure and power that only the victor has, and he did it without hesitation, with a heart-wrenching pain... In the past, if he had issued such an order, it would have almost immediately caused turmoil throughout the country, resulting in a massive rebellion that tore the land apart... But now, the rebellion has already occurred and he has quelled most of it, so there is nothing to worry about. He can take this opportunity to thoroughly clean up the old mess.

The officials were relatively lucky; they would be interrogated and screened afterward, and not all of them would be severely punished. However, the family members of the rebels were destined for a tragic end. Even if they were spared the death penalty, the best outcome would be that they would become slaves and pay a heavy price for their past actions.

Having done all this, he had essentially achieved his objective for this campaign and could now calmly await the arrival of the legions he had recalled from the south, thus bringing an end to the chaos of the period.

This matter did not require the use of a large army... at least most of the time it did not require the force of a large army, so his legions were all encamped outside the city, with only a thousand-man squad entering the city to do everything else, while he had to worry about many other things.

Chapter 516 Eliminate the Weeds at the Root (2)

When did I start to become like this? ... This thought inexplicably popped into his mind, as silently as a mushroom in a forest after the rain, quickly taking over most of his thoughts and briefly taking him away from what he had long taken for granted.

Perhaps it was the last vestiges of his humanity at work, but it didn't matter; he didn't care... Only by preserving these things could the final victory truly be sweet to him.

He once had two companions, but they were both too weak and incompetent, content with what little they had and unwilling to continue exploring. Only he was unwilling to merely obtain superficial knowledge, and for many years, he painstakingly studied and worked tirelessly to finally achieve what he has today.

He gave those two people a chance, but they refused without hesitation and even tried to stop him from doing so... So they became his enemies. Unfortunately, because of the knowledge they had also gained, he was never able to destroy them. And just as he had feared, they became a dangerous threat.

The cold cave was completely dry, its stone walls hewn smooth and flat. Only at the corners were there tangled patterns resembling snakes and tentacles. Behind him stood a dozen or so tall guards, their figures barely concealed by the movement of objects beneath their black robes. Each of them exuded a fierce and cruel aura, and a faint scent of blood emanated from them.

Continue walking downwards until you come to a circular stone gate. The gate is divided by spiral patterns radiating outwards from the center. A small stone spike protrudes from the center, not sharp but enough to pierce the skin.

He stretched out his finger towards the center point; his pale finger was smooth as porcelain, without any lines. But the moment it touched something hard, it quickly dented, revealing its resilient texture. After applying pressure for two seconds, it was finally pierced, and a drop of bluish blood seeped out.

It was as if the arc of light from the sky had been injected into blood, yet the crimson base color remained, giving it an eerie beauty. The drop of blood slowly seeped into the groove on the door, and then the entire door made a slight sound as it split apart from the center and shrank into the surrounding frame. Two of the twelve guards following him immediately stood on either side of the door.

They will prevent anyone from passing through here, including even the high-ranking members of the Holy Order... Apart from the Apostle and those whose minds have been completely transformed, no stranger will be allowed to set foot here.