Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

They don't have enough space anymore...

After once again trampling the enemy's infantry formation on horseback, Xu Ning retreated with a few minor wounds from where his chainmail had been breached. The weak point they had attacked had become a living hell, with broken limbs and torn internal organs piled up like a small mountain. Three armored warhorses, their bodies riddled with broken spears, lay on the ground groaning in agony, while their masters had long since been swallowed up by the dense army formation.

The heavy infantry, having successfully formed their ranks, used their shields and spears to repeatedly withstand their attacks, leaving them less and less room to maneuver. If this continued, they would be like butterflies caught in a spider's web, completely losing their chance to escape...

Xu Ning, known as Tersolius, didn't know why he understood these things, but he could always find the inconsistencies and weaknesses in the enemy's formation, and time and time again he would lead his cavalry to charge, relying on the heavy armor they wore to inflict huge losses on the enemy time and time again.

But they could no longer act with the same impunity as before. He didn't know why the other troops weren't drawing the enemy's forces away. The heavy infantry surrounding them numbered in the thousands, and their erected, hard spears posed a huge threat to their assault. If they couldn't pull their troops out in time, a few unlucky and slow-witted guys would be left there forever.

The reason they still had the confidence to fight was because they had perfectly completed their mission. The Holsian archers had been wiped out, and they had defeated at least three times their number of infantry. This was enough to give them a huge advantage. As long as the governor wasn't a complete fool, he should launch a full-scale attack. The Hols would definitely not be able to hold out, and then they could easily win by coordinating with their own forces from the inside and outside.

And they are waiting for that moment...

But what unsettled Xu Ning was that the sounds of battle that had filled the entire world suddenly began to weaken. Now, almost only their area was still emitting the distinctive noise of the battlefield; elsewhere, a chilling silence had descended... This was certainly not a good sign, and it made his heart leap once more. He once again spurred his armored cavalry, who had formed a wedge formation, to penetrate an infantry array. Under their onslaught, the area showed clear signs of wavering, and Xu Ning sensed this opportunity.

As expected, this formation was its weakest link. After losing over a dozen cavalrymen, the Holsteins could no longer withstand the terrible casualties. Under the cavalry's deliberate intimidation and charge, they began to retreat gradually. Their once orderly lines became chaotic, and their spears became crooked and unable to form a threatening spear formation. They quickly became corpses trampled under the hooves of horses. The entire formation collapsed, and they fled in all directions.

Any Hols officer with a modicum of common sense knew that if these armored cavalry maintained their formation and advanced slowly and methodically, they would eventually be annihilated here. After all, they were already heavily surrounded and could no longer utilize the excellent mobility of cavalry.

But the charge of armored cavalry was truly terrifying! ... Even with a charge distance of only a few hundred meters, each time they broke through the infantry's formation, flesh and blood flew everywhere, lives ended swiftly in the cheapest way, and the enormous sound they made was terrifying. Those heavy infantrymen were thrown out like rag dolls, and then trampled underfoot by the ton-high warhorses, never to have a chance to stand up again.

Under these relentless, hammer-like assaults, their encirclement was extremely slow. Whenever a unit moved even slightly faster, it would immediately become a target, and the enemy would gather their most elite forces to deliver a crushing blow. Each breach in the infantry formation was like a short dagger piercing into a person's flesh, taking away bits of blood and flesh while simultaneously causing morale and courage to drain away as quickly as blood.

Upon witnessing this horrific sight, the other Hols naturally shrank back in fear. Even with their commanders shouting and cursing, they advanced at the slowest possible pace. The complete scattering of the infantry phalanx had dire consequences, with the fleeing infantry crowding the other formations and dealing a severe blow to morale. Although these deserters were quickly captured and executed, the human armored cavalry had managed to break through their encirclement to a dangerous position. Just as the enemy regrouped, their gleaming spears, soaked through by the rain, chilled the hearts of the surrounding Hols to the bone.

Every Holstein soldier prayed that the other side wouldn't choose them, but as the horns sounded, the black banner once again rushed towards the corner where the defeat had just occurred. The cavalry, gleaming with steel, charged in like heavy steel chariots, almost unstoppable. In an instant, screams of agony filled the air, causing at least a hundred casualties.

All the commanders watched the area with bated breath until the terrifying cavalry retreated once again. Almost everyone let out a sigh of relief. Although these cavalry were extremely elite, their numbers were too small. Now they only had about seven or eight hundred men left. Although their own losses were much heavier, with at least several thousand archers, infantry, and light cavalry trampled and crushed by the enemy, as long as they could keep them, it was not a complete failure, or even a great success.

May Aphrodite bless us!

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

Xu Ning's face was ashen. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The scene he had just witnessed had been a complete shock to him, although he managed to remain calm and composed out of some instinct.

But he himself, filled with intense anger and humiliation, gripped the reins so tightly they creaked… Just now, after they had advanced to that distance, they saw that the army that had fought these Holsteins had retreated a gallon away, the two armies completely separated, allowing the Holsteins to use all their strength to encircle and annihilate them… It was a shameful betrayal!!! They had been utterly abandoned!!

Xu Ning understood perfectly well that he had been outmaneuvered from the very beginning... Perhaps the moment he charged into the enemy lines, the governor had already reached an agreement with the Hels general, leading his army to slowly retreat and leaving him and his armored cavalry completely trapped in the enemy's formation! They were part of the abandoned force from the start.

Worse still, news of what he had just witnessed was already spreading among his cavalry. They were on the verge of breaking through the formation and escaping, but at the very last moment, all their efforts were in vain! A surge of intense rage made him want to grind his teeth to powder…

Seeing his formation beginning to falter, and his cavalrymen starting to panic at the thought of being abandoned, Xu Ning knew he had to do something…

Chapter 7 Breaking the Formation (1)

The rain continued to fall from the sky, soaking the heavy armor and seeping in through the gaps in the chainmail. Even though it was a season of continuous spring rain, it sent chills down one's spine, as if icy snow water had flowed into one's armor.

But the colder his body became, the hotter his heart grew, and the burning rage almost dried up his blood. He had suddenly appeared here without any explanation, led a group of people to fight to the death without any explanation, and was framed and put in a deadly situation without any explanation... All of this had happened in just two short hours... leaving him little time to think.

But now he was at a critical juncture of life and death. He was like a piece of ice that was burning, his blood rushing to his head while his heart was as cold as ice. He knew he had to do something, or he would die here today.

The cavalrymen began to stir. Although their faces were covered by heavy chainmail, Xu Ning could sense their fear and panic. No one could remain calm after being abandoned on the battlefield. Even these heavily armored cavalrymen, who had been trained since childhood and had experienced countless battles, were not immune to fear. Fear made their spears hesitate, panic made their swords dull, and they dared not swing their chain maces and iron clubs at the enemy.

Although they maintained their formation, they began whispering among themselves about what they had just seen, trying to verify with their comrades whether they were the only ones seeing things. As the information spread, they began to waver, and some even looked at him frequently, hoping that their commander would make the final decision for them.

And now, he has to make that decision.

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His chainmail gloves, soaked by the rain, had grown cold, and the spear in his hand seemed heavy now. He was breathing heavily; after an hour of continuous fighting, his strength was greatly depleted. Although his excellent physical condition, honed from childhood training, would allow him to sustain himself for a long time, what truly panicked him now was the sight of the massive army that had vanished from the plains…

"Marcus, have I gone blind? Why haven't our troops appeared on the plains?!"

The cavalryman to his left suddenly reached out his chainmail glove and grabbed his left hand. Although he couldn't see the other man's face, he knew it was his friend Publius. They came from the same town, had gone through the same training and war, and could entrust their lives to each other.

“…I don’t know, Publius, I really don’t know…maybe we…”

"Perhaps we've already been abandoned!! That cursed Arios!! I should tear his tongue out!"

His friend immediately interrupted him, clearly indicating that he already had his own guess and was just looking for him to provide proof for it, and his friend's attitude was undoubtedly the best proof.

They had been abandoned, abandoned in the enemy's ranks... Nothing in the world could be more disheartening and despondent than this. Marcus felt little anger, only sorrow for his fate... Perhaps his destiny was to die here, and at the hands of the Hols.

Numerous complaints and curses also emanated from the surrounding queues. Everyone was frustrated and angry. If the governor were to appear before them now, each of them would not hesitate to spur their horses and trample him into a pulp to avenge the humiliation and deception they had suffered.

The group began to stir, and their horses seemed to sense their masters' mood, stamping their hooves restlessly.

A rhythmic sound suddenly came from ahead—the gentle trotting of warhorses on the grass. Marcus's eyes widened in surprise. He quickly looked ahead; without their general's orders, no one dared to act on their own, so the only explanation was that someone had deserted.

Then he saw their general, Tersolius, holding his banner high, riding his horse from left to right. As he rode, his gaze swept across every face... so silent and composed. He controlled the reins of his warhorse without trembling in the chaos, his eyes, sharp as blades, scanning each face and watching each person's movements.

In a very short time, everyone stopped moving. They no longer wavered, nor did they allow their warhorses to disrupt the formation. Those who were flustered shut their mouths, those who were timid stopped their melancholy, and those who were irritable began to quiet down. After all, they were well-trained elites, not some farmers who went to war with pitchforks...

“My cavalry! I know what you’re worried about… and I can answer you. Yes, what you feared has indeed happened. We’ve been abandoned here by those shameless villains! What a despicable and shameless act! They’ve abandoned their comrades, handing our lives over to the enemy without reservation…”

Marcus gripped his spear tightly. He didn't know why he felt so frustrated. Perhaps he still had a sliver of hope, but it wasn't until their general spoke that his last illusion was shattered, and he truly understood his current predicament.

"We are now in dire straits, that's an undeniable fact... But!! My cavalry, tell me, even in the face of such a desperate situation, are you going to stay here and wait to die? Are you going to sit here and wait to be killed, letting those Holsmen pierce you with their spears?!"

"If anyone truly harbors such thoughts, then let me tell you, after you die here, the enemy who killed us will only clap his hands in glee. He will remain the high and mighty ruler, while we are merely a pile of corpses left on the battlefield to rot!! I do not wish for that. I do not wish to die while watching my enemy fully enjoy wealth and glory. Even if I must die, I will die in front of that bastard! I will bite off his fingers and tear his eyes apart!!"

Marcus's breathing grew heavy, bloodshot veins appeared in his eyes, and his face turned crimson. His hot breaths echoed from within his helmet, as if he had just downed a large bowl of strong liquor. From every helmet came heavy breathing, perhaps driven by anger, perhaps by hope; every cavalryman gripped his weapon.

"So take your lances, restrain your horses, and let's launch one last charge!! If you still acknowledge me as your commander, then, soldiers! Obey my orders, let's charge out together! This time, we're not fighting for anything else but our own survival, for the rights that each of us deserves, for our sacred revenge, for our loved ones! I urge you to summon your courage. I will be in the first line. If I fall in battle, do not stop your horses. Even in death, we will die on the charge!! They cannot stop us!"

Thesolius's eyes were bloodshot. He turned and gently nudged his horse, positioning it at the very front of the wedge formation. As he reached back, several spears were offered to him, but he only grabbed the one furthest from him. He then hung his iron staff at his waist and pointed the finely forged spearhead at the opposing army.

The scraping sound of armor clashing echoed, just like in countless training sessions and battles. The armored cavalry began to form their ranks. Their armor gleamed in the rain, the brass components shimmering like gold. Sharp spears stood tall like bamboo shoots after a spring rain. There was no more wavering or doubt. They would once again launch their most proficient charge, forcefully piercing through the enemy's formation.

On this hillside piled with corpses, a forest made of steel has sprung up.

"Cavalry!!...Charge!"

Chapter 8 Breaking the Formation (2)

The charging distance was far too short, so short that the warhorses could cover it in just three breaths, and this distance was constantly shrinking. Like a butterfly that had been bound, they no longer had the strength to maximize their impact.

But the speed can still meet the standard... The reason Tersolius was so confident was because this was a hillside, a downward slope, and as long as they urged their warhorses to the top, they could easily reach the appropriate impact speed, like mercury flowing down the ground.

The dense clatter of iron hooves enveloped him completely. They surged down like an unstoppable torrent forged of steel, the ground trembling violently. Warhorses panted heavily, their powerful muscles contracting, carrying their riders in an unstoppable downward rush. Sharp spears were leveled, shields were raised, and chain hammers and iron clubs were in hand. Whether they succeeded or failed, they had only this one chance to charge. After that, there would be no turning back; they would be completely trapped in the enemy's ranks, fighting hand to hand.

Everyone gritted their teeth, no longer holding back their horsepower, and pushed their mounts to the limit, all for this final gamble...

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The infantry's formation was so tight. They wore heavy chainmail, held sharp spears upright, and their shields were stacked on top of each other, like a wall that appeared out of nowhere. But even so, they had no sense of security. Everything that had happened before told them that even such a formation could be shattered in the blink of an eye by human armored cavalry. Even if the enemy would pay some price, the scene of flying flesh and piled-up corpses would still put enormous psychological pressure on the infantry.

So no matter how much the officers urged them, not one of them was willing to quicken their pace. Everyone maintained a slow step, shrinking the distance between themselves and the enemy. Until the terrible, dense, thunderous hoofbeats came again, the entire formation began to waver. The river of steel poured down on them, and the spear in the hand of the tall knight at the front gleamed coldly, eager to drink the enemy's blood.

The soldiers in the first rank at the front planted their feet on the base of their spears, raising them upright. Heavy shields formed a shield wall in front of them, with spears protruding from the gaps, turning the phalanx into a porcupine-like formation. Their archers had been wiped out, and the few survivors were of little use. Now, they could only rely on their heavy formation and discipline to withstand the enemy charge. This was a huge challenge even for the most elite infantry, and the Hols' infantry was far from being the most elite…

With their elevated position and such a short distance, the iron cavalry charged forward in the blink of an eye, splashing mud and water everywhere with the hoofbeats. Sharp spears were only three meters away from clashing. Under this terrifying pressure, the Holsian infantry wavered once again, and this wavering was especially fatal...

Some of the Holstein infantry in the first rank even dropped their spears in panic. Their instincts overrided their reason, causing them to swarm towards any available space, trying to escape the terrifying iron cavalry. This created fatal gaps in the impenetrable forest of spears. Thasorius dodged two spears aimed at his head, then without hesitation spurred his horse into the fray. In an instant, the earth trembled! The sounds of bones breaking and spears piercing flesh filled the air. The cries of panic and wails reached their peak at that moment.

Just like every previous charge, the heavy armor easily withstood the slashing of swords and spears, and the few spears that remained couldn't stop the horses' charge. The heavy shields were trampled to the ground by the immense force of the horses, and the soldiers supporting them screamed in agony as they were trampled under countless hooves. His spear had already pierced the bodies of two infantrymen, yet his wrist remained as unmoved as if cast in steel.

The spear could no longer be pulled out, so he released it and grabbed a spear that was piercing his chest. Then, to the soldier's incredulous expression, he reached out and pulled him and the spear out of the formation.

In mid-air, the soldier was pierced through the chest by a spear thrust from behind. He continued to penetrate the formation before him with his new weapon. Dense swords and blades scraped sparks against their armor. Countless infantrymen were trampled and crushed by their horses. The dense forest of spears was like bushes growing out of the roadside, catching people off guard. A swinging chain hammer shattered skulls, and a thrusting spear tore through armor and pierced hearts. Row after row of infantrymen were easily torn apart. Countless lives were screaming under their iron hooves. Even the warhorses went mad, desperately charging forward under the cavalry's command.

What a magnificent and awe-inspiring scene! These elite warriors had long since molded themselves into warriors, and at this moment, they felt no fear or hesitation, only extreme anger and determination. They were like a pack of lions driven mad by hatred, recklessly tearing apart anything that dared to stand in their way. The cavalrymen roared and fought fiercely, charging wildly amidst the splattered blood, entrails, and brains. One after another, cavalrymen were caught off guard and stabbed off their horses, but the others continued their advance without regard for the consequences. One formation after another was quickly broken, and the casualties rapidly increased. Blood and viscous entrails had already covered the ground in a layer, and fallen warhorses and corpses were piled on top of each other. Eventually, the warhorses trampled not the ground, but the dripping flesh and blood.

All the Holsian officers were utterly shocked. They thought they were prepared, they thought they would win… but everything before them told them: why were humans allowed to occupy the rich Central Plains… why did they always lose in wars? Why did human nations possess such wealth…

………………

As his warhorse trampled the last enemy, Tersilius, or rather Xu Ning, had already lost his helmet and half of his left ear. A gruesome knife wound ran from his forehead to his right cheek, nearly slicing through his eye. His short black hair was soaked in blood, his armor was covered in marks from swords and axes, several broken spearheads were stuck in his warhorse's body, and the iron staff he held, forged from fine steel, was covered in layers of sticky blood.

But they finally broke through. No one could count how many enemy lines they had routed. The moment they emerged, everyone spurred their horses forward without hesitation. The joy of surviving the ordeal and the still barely suppressed anger made them cheer loudly and curse wildly.

The Hols could only watch as their cavalry, now reduced to half their original number, decisively defeated their infantry, who outnumbered them several times over, and rode away. The armor and weapons, no longer gleaming, vanished from their sight, leaving only the soldiers' pitiful cries echoing from the devastated breach.

The place had long since become a living hell. Broken corpses and flowing entrails covered the ground. The wounded soldiers who were still alive reached out from this bloody hell, crying and wailing loudly. Their minds and bodies had been completely broken. They begged their comrades who were still alive to drag them out of there. Some of them only had half a body left, but they still used their two hands to desperately pry at the ground, trying to get themselves out of there.

Silence descended upon the center of the army formation; all the Holsteins fell silent…

Chapter 9 Villages

How many people are left?

“316 adults, and some who fell behind.”

Tersolius gripped the reins tightly, and his warhorse spun restlessly in place, causing his armor to rustle. The heavy horse armor, weighing over 100 kilograms, would severely slow them down, so on his orders, all the cavalry's horse armor was gathered together and placed in a dry, cool, secluded cave deep within the dense forest.

Before leaving, they sealed the area completely with heavy stones, then covered it with layers of mud. In just a few days, no trace of the place would remain. And thus, these precious armors were preserved.

The wound on Tersolius's forehead was twitching slightly from the pain. A heavy curved sword had struck his forehead with great force. If he hadn't dodged in time, his entire head would have been split open. Now, through the gaps in the flesh, one could see that the snow-white bone was stained with blood. The skin of the wound had also turned white, and the situation looked dire.

The knife grazed his eyeball almost to the side, slicing his eyelid in two. A fraction more and he would have lost his right eye. Most of the other scars, big and small, had only grazed his skin. Only one ear had been severed in half by the spear. Only now did he have time to properly bandage his wound. Before, to stop the bleeding, he had simply torn off the hem of his clothes and pressed the blood-stained strips of cloth against the wound.

Even though the wounds on his body kept throbbing with pain, he didn't show any unusual expression. Some intense emotion overwhelmed him, making him ignore all the pain...

When they launched their attack from that hillside, there were a full 1132 armored cavalrymen, each a highly trained elite. Each of them was skilled in controlling their warhorses, and each of them possessed enough equipment to bankrupt several middle-class families. As soon as they appeared on the battlefield, the enemy's morale would suffer a devastating blow, and their comrades would be greatly encouraged and charge forward with courage.

But these noble and brave cavalrymen were abandoned worthlessly in the enemy's encirclement because of the filthy desires of some people, and suffered such heavy losses that only about 40% of them escaped... As the man to whom these cavalrymen had entrusted their lives, his rage was completely uncontrollable.

From yesterday to today, in this short period of time, it felt like he had experienced a terrible nightmare... but he adapted to it so naturally. In the quiet of the night, he also thought about it alone: ​​...what happened to him was extremely abnormal. He was like a general who had been in war for more than ten years, able to lead his cavalry to charge the enemy with ease, and even in such a desperate situation, he could bring out these cavalrymen who believed in him...

These are things that Xu Ning, an ordinary college graduate, could never have accomplished. Only the owner of the glorious black double-headed eagle banner, a general of the Golden Legion directly under the Emperor, and the Empire's first champion warrior, Tersolius Gais Jarneus, could have done them... He obtained this information after breaking out of the encirclement by subtly gathering information... He didn't know who he was now. The face reflected in the pool was clearly his own, but all the soldiers around him called him Tersolius. The respect and admiration in their eyes were genuine, especially after he, as the general, led them out of the encirclement of tens of thousands of enemy troops.

He seemed like that champion warrior, leading all the cavalry, the first to charge into the dense forest of spears, yet still surviving with only minor wounds. In just yesterday's brief engagement, over a hundred Holsteins had died at his hands. Killing a fully armed heavy infantryman was no more difficult for him than killing a chicken. He knew perfectly well how to use his spear to pierce the weak points of the enemy's armor, and he knew even more clearly how to swing his iron staff to maximize the power boost from the speed of his warhorse... as if he were a born warrior and a strongman.

His personality also underwent a subtle change. No matter how bloody and horrific the scene in front of him, it would not attract his attention as much as the stones on the roadside. He could ride his horse and trample those mutilated corpses without changing his expression, and calmly slash off the head of the other person when the entrails splattered on his face... He could perceive all of this and view his own changes with a calm attitude.

This attitude, however, also troubled and confused him. He suppressed these emotions in his heart and did not reveal them at all. He also knew clearly that a leader should never show such emotions in front of his soldiers.

…………

"Akar, the general's wound needs to be treated as soon as possible... The air here is so humid, it will fester in a few days!"

Akar finally removed his helmet, revealing his square face, just as he had imagined. A long scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his jawline. His facial features were sharp and direct, his hair was shaved very short, with only a short stubble, and his two thick eyebrows gave him an imposing presence.

The person who made the suggestion to him was Marcus, who no longer looked young, with a thick mustache and a large goatee. He appeared to be a very composed middle-aged man.

"Of course I know, but how are we supposed to find a doctor here?! Without a doctor, who would dare to treat an eye injury? Are you going to come?!"

Arka appeared extremely agitated. His right hand, the flag bearer, was tightly wrapped in white cloth, yet a glaring red glint still peeked out. As the flag bearer following the general, he naturally received more attacks, but the glorious black flag never fell once in the battle. Even now, marching through the jungle, he carefully rolled up the flag and put it into the leather tube on his back.

Marcus was completely speechless at this rhetorical question. Of course, he had no solution; he had just been worrying blindly. They were currently resting briefly in the jungle, waiting for the straggling members to catch up. This rest period wouldn't last long; their supplies were running out, and they needed to reach a known human town as soon as possible. Otherwise, these armored cavalrymen, who basically didn't hunt, would probably starve to death in this forest.

So, with no other choice, the group led their warhorses to Tersolius's side, awaiting their commander's next orders. They had already sent out scouts to explore the way ahead, and if all went well, they should be back in a little while...