Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

He stretched out his foot and kicked the corpse in front of him, which was covered in heavy cloth armor, causing it to flip over. The helmet on the other's head, which was as thick as an iron barrel, was now deeply dented, with the dark steel embedded in the facial bones, causing one eye to pop out of its socket.

In the recent massacre, this brave man successfully charged up to him and even killed one of his guards with his lance, but ultimately he was defeated by him. The man used his sword to cut off the lance shaft and smashed his head. Even his strong warhorse was pierced by his guards with long spears and died a few dozen steps away from its master.

He was initially puzzled as to how the other party had managed to get through the blockade of his army, but after a brief moment of thought, he realized that the other party's resourcefulness and courage were so outstanding that he was able to accurately seize the gap between the shifts in the ranks, lead a small squad of a dozen cavalrymen and charge over recklessly, and with the help of luck, he came to him alone.

Perhaps he thought that killing the empire's commander would save his army from that terrible hell, but in the end, he failed... The only good thing was that he didn't have to look back at that tragic scene.

This is the battlefield where the reinforcements from the Kingdom of Winddin perished. Six thousand soldiers were buried here, and their screams at the moment of their deaths even frightened away birds and beasts within a radius of hundreds of miles. The terrible stench of blood filled every inch of the surrounding air.

The reason for their disastrous defeat was quite simple—the destruction of Salanod had not yet reached their ears. Like a pack of wolves, the scattered Imperial cavalry blocked all news. They continued to advance along a road that the enemy already knew well, even believing it to be friendly territory, and did not send out many scouts to investigate.

And so, like deer unknowingly walking into a trap, they fell into the snare. The cavalry, rushing in, attacked their rear guard and baggage train first, slaughtering their archers with swords and spears, and quickly spreading panic.

Immediately afterwards, the charging legion, like a sharp guillotine, cut their ranks into several segments, preventing them from supporting or communicating with each other, and leaving them completely without command and forced to fight individually. Meanwhile, the archers on high ground, under the command of their officers, rained down arrows upon them, generously gifting them death and chaos.

Those knights who had gathered together and were originally capable of great things could only fight back miserably and desperately, eventually falling to their deaths amidst spears and swords. Even their well-trained and expensive warhorses could only become spoils of war.

What happened next was exactly as expected. Their prey completely lost their morale and had no chance to resist anymore. They were almost all killed or wounded in the pursuit of the imperial army, leaving less than 1000 prisoners. Trembling, they laid down their weapons amidst the sharp spears and were bound by Pygmalions.

This once unremarkable hill was destined to leave its mark on history after such a tragic massacre, and for him, this victory also held unique significance.

Now, there are no obstacles in his path. He has destroyed most of the power of the Kingdom of Winddin, and the lair of the Holy Order of Knowledge is finally about to be exposed to him. Those rats who used to hide in the shadows have nowhere to hide now.

His anger was as silent as slowly burning coals, but it never went out, and it was about to blaze fiercely, utterly destroying something filthy.

On the Eve of Chapter 520 (3)

The marble columns, several meters high, are constructed from a stack of massive stones, connected by a clever interlocking structure to prevent them from swaying or collapsing. The outer sides are carved with dense and delicate ridges and rounded corners, while the top supports the structure, which spreads out on all four sides like a flower and curls at the ends like leaves.

Beneath this pillar stood a royal guard, clad in golden scale armor. His halberds gleamed with a chilling light, inlaid with gold and silver. His entire body, even his fingertips, was encased in fine chainmail, leaving only his eyes visible.

While such clothing was indestructible and could treat dense arrows as harmless raindrops, it was also incredibly hot. Even the strongest warriors could not wear it for long periods in the sweltering heat. Yet, at this moment, they were as calm and composed as pine trees in the cold, seemingly unaffected by the heat.

Part of the reason is that the weather is gradually getting colder now, and it's not as hot as it was a few months ago. But the main reason is the ingenious design of the palace.

The empire's skilled craftsmen meticulously designed the layout of the entire palace complex. The heavy buildings not only blocked out the sun but also allowed cool breezes to continuously blow through the corridors and under the eaves. Even during the hottest part of the year, the guards here could still be on guard in their armor.

They would rotate four times a day without any breaks, ensuring that no one with ill intentions could escape their notice. Each officer among them had an essential skill: remembering the servants who came and went in the area he was responsible for each day, so that he could spot any unfamiliar faces in time.

Outside the palace, the joyous celebrations had not yet subsided. To celebrate the complete annihilation of the rebels, the entire city had been in a frenzy for more than ten days. Countless sums of money were squandered like water, barrels of fine wine were placed on the streets for people to drink, and colorful ribbons and flags decorated every place. Every citizen of the capital was extremely proud of the victory achieved by their sons.

This celebration was more grand and solemn than any in history. Every resident of the capital participated spontaneously, working tirelessly even late into the night. Their enthusiasm stemmed not only from the close connection between the two legions and themselves, but also from their heartfelt relief and joy at having weathered the crisis.

Throughout their lives, wars were always kept at bay by the imperial legions, with few able to invade their territory, let alone approach the capital. Many of them were experiencing this situation for the first time. Although they knew that the strategic location here was the most formidable in the world, they still couldn't help but feel nervous.

Tersolius's victory, as always, had a deeper significance this time. The people of the central province, whom he had personally saved, naturally developed even greater awe and love for him. In the celebratory toasts, his name and the emperor's name were mentioned together more and more often... In the past, this would undoubtedly have been a major taboo, enough to make them suspicious of their most trusted general. But here, it could only make their emperor feel secretly pleased... Of course, she would not tell anyone this.

Before the heavy mahogany desk, the emperor was deep in thought... There wasn't a single piece of paper on the table in front of her, only the crystal lamp shining brightly in the corner, making the whole room seem empty, and the emperor's rapidly tapping fingers also showed that she was not as calm as she appeared.

Claudia had already given orders to her servants that she would be notified immediately of Tersolius's arrival, but she was still anxious and impatient to see him. Time seemed to drag on, and she kept thinking back to whether the information in the last message he sent was miscalculated.

This anxiety, which had previously barely occupied a corner of her heart, was now akin to the emperor's usual composure and sternness. However, it was now spreading like wildfire, causing the emperor to completely lose his usual demeanor.

Even so, the emperor was still rational enough to realize why she had fallen into this state—the situation had developed beyond her control, and even her power could not solve it... This was unimaginable in the past, as her authority as the emperor always allowed her to find a solution, instead of being completely clueless like she was now.

She was acutely aware of her own changes... and that was precisely what was most terrifying, like a living person watching themselves slowly rot away, with violent and insane thoughts constantly lurking in her mind, seeking any opportunity to poison her reason.

Even the country's best scholars couldn't find a solution... at least not yet. Perilaya had gathered several knowledgeable scholars and all the other scholars in the Great Library to search for clues in the vast sea of ​​materials, but it was destined to be difficult to find anything in a short time.

However, he could not relax his responsibilities and authority as the emperor of the empire for even a moment, nor could he neglect the affairs of the country in the slightest... Therefore, the emperor could only rely on his steely will to forcibly persevere and force himself to ignore that eerie fear.

Now, upon hearing the news of Tersolius's impending return, she immediately began to miss him as if she were poisoned. She was almost impatient to rely on his wisdom, sincerely hoping that he could help her, and even just seeing his face would make her feel at ease.

His fingers continued to tap on the table, each tap heavier than the last, his hard nails even leaving marks on the smooth lacquer surface. The emperor's brows furrowed, his silver teeth biting his lip slightly, and he even closed his eyes... until a slight stinging pain came from between his fingers, at which point he opened his eyes to look.

It was a small knife on the table, forged from fine steel, with wisteria patterns inlaid in gold and silver. The blade was a safe and harmless round shape, but it was still sharp enough to cut through skin in order to cut paper smoothly. At this moment, a thin red line was slowly blooming on the emperor's somewhat rough, white fingertips.

Blood slowly gushed out, spreading along the wound to both sides, until it dripped onto the table following the curve of the skin, a glaring scarlet color that barely allowed any light to pass through.

It was just an ordinary drop of blood, nothing special, but the emperor's gaze was fixed on it. His golden eyes stared intently at the glaring crimson drop, and he slowly rubbed his index finger and thumb together, letting the flowing blood move between his skin in a sticky manner.

Her breathing became slightly heavier without her realizing it, and her face flushed. After a very brief hesitation, she slowly brought the cut finger to her face and then slowly put it in her pink lips, instantly letting the sweet and pungent taste spread across her tongue.

Like a person who has been thirsty for a long time, suddenly drinking a drop of clear water, an indescribable desire surged from the depths of her heart... Compared to physical thirst, it was more like greed in her soul, making her almost unable to bear continuing to tear open the originally small wound with her teeth, letting more blood flow out.

"Don't move."

A strong, enveloping sensation suddenly appeared on her wrist, the rough, warm, and dry skin of her palm pressed tightly against it. Thesolius, his face serious, lowered his head from beside the emperor and slowly pulled her hand away…

"Don't move, Your Majesty..."

On the Eve of Chapter 521 (4)

After a visibly instinctive moment of relaxation, the emperor fell into a state of obvious surprise, every exquisite feature of his face revealing this emotion. But then, a bloodthirsty rage quickly spread across his face, without warning, with a neurotic cruelty that contorted his handsome features.

"How did you end up here! Someone failed in their duty, someone betrayed my orders!"

"clam down."

"I'm going to kill them! I'm going to cut off their heads! I'm going to skin them alive!"

"Calm down, Claudina!"

As if a thunderclap had exploded in her head, the emperor suddenly froze. The call pulled her out of the sea of ​​brutality, madness, and sadism, making her almost forget to breathe for a moment... Since becoming emperor, she had not heard such a call for a long time... It was a precious memory, a rare and invaluable bond and precious time between a few young people who could entrust their fates to each other.

She longed for that call, but what used to be so simple had become a luxury... She was now an emperor, and those she trusted and loved would no longer call her by that title.

A strong hand gripped the emperor's shoulder tightly. Tersolius's face was grim and thoughtful—the situation was much worse than he had anticipated. The emperor had almost become a stranger to him, like a madman who liked to abuse his power without any reason... and a bloodthirsty madman at that.

He had already learned quite a bit about the situation before the decisive battle even began, but the circumstances at the time did not allow him to leave the battlefield for even a day, so he could only put it aside for the time being and hope that the situation would not get too bad... but now it seems that it is too late.

The Clautina before him had even forgotten that she had once ordered the servants to bring him here immediately upon seeing him without prior notice. Instead, she flew into a rage because she felt that someone was acting on their own initiative, completely devoid of any trace of her former rationality and intelligence.

He knew exactly how the previous emperor had died... His madness and irrationality had ravaged the entire country for over a decade until everyone finally reached their breaking point and only wished for his death. An emperor who had lost the very foundation of his power could only meet such a tragic end... And now Clautina bore a striking resemblance to that legendary mad emperor, which sent chills down his spine.

He absolutely could not allow his emperor to reach such a tragic state, nor could he allow the situation they had worked so hard to establish to be destroyed once again. A great determination filled his chest at this moment, making him do something impolite that he would not normally do without hesitation.

To put it simply, he was like waking up a mentally unstable friend, grabbing the emperor's shoulders and shaking him violently. At the same time, he was calling the emperor by his real name... If the effect was not obvious, he would not hesitate to slap him, at least to get the emperor back to the point where he could listen to him.

Fortunately, his slap did not fall. After calling out the other person's name, the emperor's eyes quickly regained their clarity. At first, he was a little confused, but then the familiar look and luster began to appear. A kind of joy and sorrow pierced his eyes sharply.

This was an incredibly clear and direct expression of emotion. The emperor was deeply grieving before him, and although no tears were falling from her eyes, he could clearly feel them. At the same time, a kind of overwhelming joy instantly overwhelmed him.

The next moment, his neck was tightly embraced, and their cheeks were pressed together. They could feel each other's breath hitting their necks. The emperor buried his face deep in his collar, like a fledgling bird hiding in its nest, unwilling to move for a long time.

Thesolius showed no surprise whatsoever; a fleeting sadness crossed his face as he raised his long arms and embraced the emperor, who was dressed in a magnificent robe.

After a long while, a faint sigh escaped from his embrace, carrying an indescribable tremor:

"You've finally returned, my general, my love..."

He shuddered violently, but said nothing more, only silently tightening his grip on his hands.

The garden outside the window is still full of flowers, and the cold-resistant plants are thriving under the gardener's careful care. Elegant ornamental fish swim in the cool, clear pond, and the mosaic marble floor tiles have a rough surface to prevent slipping. The tall, exquisite columns are covered with lifelike sculptures... At this moment, the sun shines just right, neither arrogant nor impatient.

The sun was no good; it made him irritable and restless.

With a grim expression, Scripps pushed open the door. The heavy, carved wooden door, reinforced with sturdy copper beams, swung like a warhammer under his force, smashing into the smooth wall with a loud thud, leaving a mark.

This single mark had already caused the house a loss of over a dozen silver coins, but he couldn't care less about such a trivial matter. What he needed to focus on at this moment was the most important duty of his life... the duty to which he had dedicated his life, and which he absolutely could not allow to fail again.

Igulus… his disciple, his scars, his despair, his helplessness… He would never allow such a thing to happen again. The first time it happened, it had already inflicted a deep, bone-deep wound on the country. He would give anything to stop it.

When did he take on this responsibility? ...At this critical moment, Scripps' mind involuntarily began to recall...he remembered the dimly lit room and the stormy night with its thunder and lightning, as if the sky itself was angry about it.

His father told him in this room about the mission that had existed since classical times... the disaster that was quelled by the brilliant strategies of the first emperor of the empire, and that mission had been passed down from family to family since then, and that it entered his family 200 years ago.

Only he knew the true purpose of the Empire's current flourishing faith... It was the price they paid to resist the despair of the past, and the being who offered help was by no means a generous and selfless being; they needed to pay a price and give something in return to satisfy Him.

And this kind of repayment is always incredibly heavy... They must give blood, give war, give enough to satisfy that being, and if that's not enough, then He will come and take it from Himself...

Fortunately, they were not without options. The country's first emperor had already laid out a way to resist when he made the deal, and the people of this land were not meant to be slaughtered at will.

Chapter 522: The End (1)

The first emperor of the empire was undoubtedly a mortal, and even though he accomplished feats that countless others could not match, this could not change the fact that he could order his army to cover a piece of land with a rain of arrows, order his people to dig a river, or even carve through a mountain peak... but he could not use the power he had at the time to fight against the disasters that were coming to the earth.

He tried every method and exhausted his wisdom... but in the end he could only contain the disaster a little bit, and could never completely defeat it. Not only was this nascent country in danger of extinction, but the entire civilization was also in danger of continuing to exist.

Thus, the ever-victorious emperor was utterly helpless. Every opponent who had ever fought him for this land had been annihilated under the wheels of his chariot, but he could never defeat a high, invisible, and omnipresent adversary.

But at this moment of despair, another being of the same kind approached him... The emperor had prayed to the gods they worshipped more than once before, but he had never received a response. No matter how devout he was or how many sacrifices he offered, it was all in vain. But when he was in utter despair and his steely mind had become numb, this being came to him on its own.

Of course, this was by no means without a price, and the price was frighteningly high. However, the emperor had no other choice but to accept it and try to find a chance for his soon-to-be-destroyed country to survive.

In return for the deal, he needed to make that being interesting and spread His concept throughout the land... The latter was straightforward, and the ultimate result was the God of War and Law who now flourishes throughout the empire. This faith has indeed shaped the foundation and essence of the empire, giving rise to the country's strength and prosperity.

The former means that He must constantly create conflict—this is what He delights in and pursues. He wants conflict to be everywhere and never dry up, and He also wants to stop the enemy's plans... The disasters created by the other side will obviously plunge the entire continent into a state of death, which He dislikes and rejects.

And so the deal was struck, and the aging emperor once again launched a war. The iron wheels of his chariots rolled southward, and he began his conquest once more... until he died on the road to war. Afterward, as the country grew stronger and stronger, it had more and more contact and friction with the surrounding peoples, and conflicts arose everywhere.

But this is ultimately like asking a tiger for its skin or drinking poison to quench thirst. He is never satisfied. As soon as one conflict ends, He is already looking forward to an even bigger one. Even a bloody war that affects several countries can only slightly fill His hunger before He immediately has to continue to demand more.

Even with the empire's rapid expansion, it couldn't keep up with this level of insatiable greed... And once it felt it wasn't enough, it would take it from him in the most direct and effective way—making the emperor of the empire go mad and bloodthirsty. Then he would naturally launch wars without regard for anything else, becoming a tyrant who would bring disaster to the country. The people, unable to tolerate it, would naturally rebel against his rule.

This has happened more than once in history, and his student Igulus was the previous victim... All his madness and bloodlust suddenly erupted after he ascended the throne. Several futile foreign wars, driven by his stubbornness, made the whole country miserable and even showed signs of division and civil war.

Still harboring melancholy and a glimmer of hope, he made countless efforts to restore his student to his former self, only to nearly lose his own life by being beheaded by the executioner's axe. Thus, he dared not hesitate any longer, hardening his heart, and after years of maneuvering, he completely drove Igulus to the brink of despair, forcing him to watch helplessly as his once most prized student plummeted from the tower, his flesh torn apart.

Such a painful lesson was enough for him to learn in his lifetime... and he dared not relax his guard in the slightest. In order to prevent such a situation from happening again, and to prevent the emperor, who held all the power, from turning the whole country into hell, he had to let the Senate hold a part of the power of the country in order to retain the last bit of power to fight back, so that things would not become completely out of control.

But even he did not expect that the increasingly powerful Senate would break free from his control, craving more power and status, and instead truly divide the entire country, igniting a civil war.

He was utterly powerless in the midst of this chaos, and even had to rely on Tersolius to rescue him, but fortunately he was not entirely helpless after all... His decades of hard work would eventually come in handy.

But now his first priority is to see His Majesty and Thesolius and tell them everything without missing a single detail... to pour out all the secrets he has kept in his heart for so many years, and only then can he finish what he needs to do.

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

The vast marble mosaic floor stretches to the horizon, meticulously constructed with stones of various colors to create rich and magnificent geometric patterns, as regular as light spots shining through a window, without any bias or distortion.

Walking hurriedly on the ground, Scripps was preparing his words... but as he thought about it, he suddenly sighed with some emotion—even he hadn't expected that the emperor would still trust him so much, even allowing him to be led into the palace by servants without prior notice... just like in the days when he was Scripps' teacher.

Perhaps he was always just a soft-hearted and hesitant old man, and could never bring himself to be ruthless to his students... But fortunately, there is still a chance. The rebels have been defeated and are no longer a threat. The southern army has also returned and will soon wipe them out. The western gateway has already been destroyed, and the remaining countries will not be a match for Natamus. Victory is just around the corner.

Compared to the dire situation before him, even the restless Kiel people in the north were nothing more than a minor scab, easily dealt with if he had the time... Moreover, as far as he knew, chaos had already broken out there as well, though he didn't know what the final outcome would be...

………………

The outcome was already decided, but immense sorrow churned in his heart like a knife, making Torid realize once again how old he was—he was no longer the Khan who could freely fly eagles and ride horses across the grasslands; his bones had begun to soften, his muscles had begun to sag, his eyesight had become blurred and gray, and even his teeth had begun to loosen.

More importantly, his heart was no longer as hard as it used to be. Every death of one of his people was like a knife to his heart, and the shoes scattered on the grass almost blinded him.