Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Their retreat was not orderly, but it was incredibly fast, like a vast ocean tide, retreating so quickly that they didn't even have time to take the bodies of their comrades with them.

The massive steel city gate was slowly hoisted up. They did not slow down at all. The warhorses' muscles were already burning hot, and a large amount of sweat had even soaked through their linings and flowed down their smooth fur.

They swept into the city like a storm, and only when they entered the flat open space did they slowly rein in their warhorses and come to a stop.

The cavalrymen, still panting heavily, gripped their blood-stained weapons, a hint of confusion even in their eyes. Many of their armor was damaged; some were gone forever, left behind on the plains outside…

Tersolius reached out to the side, and the burly standard-bearer, holding the large black banner, came to his side. He had just come down from the city wall and was covered in blood. One of his hands was trembling slightly, and black blood was dripping from it continuously.

As the black flag was grasped by their general and then raised high into the sky... an overwhelming joy broke through their psychological defenses, causing everyone to shout and cheer at the top of their lungs.

The Holsteins' first siege was repelled!

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

Thesolius unfastened the leather buckle on his chin and took off his blood-stained helmet. His hair, covered in sweat and blood, was radiating heat. With a forceful shake of his head, the dripping blood immediately spread everywhere.

His helmet was soaked in blood, but most of it was enemy blood. He had few wounds on his body, just a few inconspicuous bruises and scratches.

A ceramic kettle was handed to him, containing warm, lightly salted water to relieve his fatigue.

Without hesitation, he took the water bottle, tilted his head back, and drank in large gulps. The warm, salty liquid washed over his throat, causing his Adam's apple to move up and down.

His warhorse was being carefully tended by the slaves; the heavy armor on its sweat-drenched body had been removed, and even the saddle had been taken off.

Two strong slaves were rubbing handfuls of chopped straw onto the warhorse's sweaty body, and when it was almost done, they covered it with a blanket.

Each cavalryman's horse was well cared for to prevent these precious war mounts from being damaged by overheating. The cavalrymen sat down on the ground and drank large gulps of lightly salted water.

"Is the investigation complete? Doctor, what is the extent of our injuries?"

The girl bit her lip:

"My lord, we have lost 114 men, including 35 mountain archers and 8 cavalrymen..."

Tersolius suddenly fell silent. He raised his head to look at the sky, his eyes tightening slightly before relaxing.

In the city's hospital, a large open space was filled with motionless corpses... The corpses were covered with white sheets, and women wearing white aprons were walking among them, searching for any survivors who still had a breath left.

The midday meal was carried up to the city wall, where the slaves sat around it, noisily eating their food, with their cocked crossbows placed beside them.

The mountain archers, each clutching a bottle of strong liquor, were drinking heartily and laughing loudly. Their beards were stained with blood, and their bodies were covered with small wounds, which were being examined and treated by women from the hospital.

The cavalrymen remained silent in the open, occasionally taking a large gulp of lightly salted water, awaiting his next command...

"All right……"

Special Laws remained calm:

"Go and rest, we're all exhausted... We can celebrate the victory after we've slept..."

………………

The entire city gradually quieted down, with only the slowly rising black smoke still lingering, as if searching for something.

Chapter 65 Changes (1 words)

The wound, bleeding profusely, continuously gushed bright red liquid, representing both slaughter and life.

The intense pain and bone-deep fear caused the wounded man to scream in agony, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with the cloth in his hand.

However, this blow severed several important blood vessels in the leg, and the bleeding could not be stopped by the wound's own healing process. No matter how hard he pressed, the blood still seeped through the thick cloth and flowed out.

The red-hot branding iron was taken out of the burning coals and pressed heavily onto the wound despite the soldier's struggles, immediately filling the air with the stench of burning flesh.

The soldier's piercing screams nearly tore his throat apart. His eyes rolled back and he fainted. The wound on his leg stopped bleeding, but the horrifying burns were still a cause for concern.

A layer of grease was applied, and then the wound was wrapped with layers of cloth. That was how his wound was treated.

The next soldier's face was almost contorted with terror, but several strong assistants forcibly pinned him to the bed...

They were quick and efficient, and the results were immediate. In this way, the Holstein doctors treated the soldiers' wounds swiftly using a rather inexpensive method.

………………

This was a crushing defeat! No matter how proud and vain a lord may be, he could not deny this fact.

No one expected that, despite being heavily surrounded, the cavalry would abandon the protection of the city walls and directly charge their attacking forces.

No one expected that the barbarians living in the mountains had infiltrated their vicinity at some point, and that they had taken advantage of the chaos caused by the cavalry's charge to burn their precious heavy catapults...

What no one expected was that these barbarians actually escaped from their grasp! After humiliating them so much, they were still able to escape back to the city!

This is an unimaginable disgrace... such heavy losses, yet no results achieved.

More than 800 soldiers from the attacking force lay dead on the city's plains, while an equal number of wounded were wailing in their camps. Every shrill scream of theirs was a blow to the morale of the troops.

Once they had finally reorganized their troops, someone on the city wall loudly announced that they were allowed to collect the bodies of the fallen to prevent the spread of plague... Only then did their soldiers dare to step into that area and drag the corpses back.

Most of the arrows had been recovered by the enemy, and even most of the armor and weapons had been stripped away as spoils of war. Despite paying such a heavy price and suffering such heavy casualties, they had made absolutely no progress!

When those cavalrymen charged into the city, everyone knew they could not possibly take it today… not that their strength had been reduced to that extent, but that the morale of the soldiers had plummeted to rock bottom.

Having witnessed that horrific scene today, any infantryman stepping onto that plain would tremble with fear, lest those terrifying cavalry charge out from within again.

While they could completely seal the city gates, that would practically mean they were going to attempt to capture the city with the most devastating casualties...

The city gate was the weakest point in the city wall, but everything happened too fast. Before the makeshift battering rams could even be pushed to the gate, the ferocious cavalry had already broken through the soldiers' lines and appeared behind them.

Now that they've even lost their engineering vehicles, the only way to take the city is to have their soldiers fill in the gaps with their lives... or rather, to swarm the city walls like ants.

To achieve this, high morale is essential, and that's exactly what they lack right now. Forcing the soldiers into action could very well trigger a large-scale mutiny. Once the soldiers go berserk, they won't spare anything, not even the king or lord.

To restore morale, there are only a few measures: either allow soldiers to loot, give them more rewards, or use officers to restrain them...

But whatever measures are taken, they all take time to complete, and they are running out of time.

The entire camp was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere. They still had an army of nearly 10,000 men, but they were almost powerless and could only sigh in vain as they looked at the towering city in front of them.

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Torres viciously gulped down a mouthful of hot wine, letting the pungent liquid flow down his esophagus and into his stomach, bringing a burning sensation.

His men suffered heavy losses; these elite soldiers, whom he had brought from his territory, had never suffered such heavy losses before…

They originally thought that defeating the slaves on the city walls would allow them to take the city.

But who could have imagined that as those slaves were swiftly killed by their swords, what appeared before them were terrifying enemies clad in steel armor and wielding vicious weapons...

In the blink of an eye, they were pushed off the city wall, suffering heavy casualties, and turned to flee in panic.

What formidable armored cavalrymen were stationed on the city walls? How could they possibly gain a foothold there?

Thinking of the devastating losses he had suffered today, a surge of rage tore at his chest...

Go ahead and attack this city! You'll attack it without a sound!

This city is simply impossible to conquer! Or rather, it's impossible to conquer it without paying a huge price.

But as a loser, he had no choice but to charge the city walls again and again, only to be defeated and forced to retreat under the onslaught of fierce crossbow bolts, swords, and chains.

This is almost equivalent to a slow suicide, draining his blood drop by drop!

This can't go on...

Toris took another large gulp of his drink, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with a sinister glint.

I can't keep sending my men to their deaths like this. If I do it again, all my men will be wiped out, and then those in my family who want me dead will be able to do it easily.

It's time to leave this quagmire; he's already lost enough here...

But he can't be the first to act, otherwise he'll become the target of everyone's criticism.

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

"almost."

Thethos's words caused everyone to look at him with confusion, wondering what he meant by "almost finished speaking"...

"The Hols' morale is almost gone. While it's not impossible for them to launch another offensive in a short time, they won't be as difficult to deal with as they have been this time."

"All we can do now is wait and see what other tricks they have up their sleeves."

Tersolius slowly climbed to the top of the city wall and looked at the heavy catapults burning in the distance. These high-quality hardwoods could burn for a long time and continuously emit amazing heat.

In slightly chilly weather, such a campfire could keep thousands of soldiers warm, though of course no one on the other side would be happy about it.

The large pot of hot soup was steaming. This was the last meal of the day. After eating, the slave soldiers and mountain archers would take turns guarding the city walls to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of the situation.

Every soldier who saw him approach straightened their backs as if an electric current was running through their spines; even the usually lax mountain archers bowed to him respectfully.

Tessolius knew why...

Everything was done in secret. A small team disguised as a caravan retrieved the warhorse armor, mountain archers climbed down the city wall at night, and the dangerous hill next to the enemy's catapult and the dense forest nearby made all of this possible.

Each mountain archer received 40 gold dinars, a huge sum that most people couldn't earn in eight years. These fierce and rugged mountain people clearly saw it as money to save their lives...

They knew what they were going there to do, and they knew it was extremely dangerous, but they still climbed down the city wall without hesitation.

Perhaps in their hearts they already saw themselves as part of the abandoned group, and they didn't really believe that the empire's general would actually lead cavalry to rescue them from the encirclement.

But all of this just happened...

A general of noble status and power dared to charge an army of several thousand men with only 200 cavalrymen, and even went so far as to rescue these uncouth mountain people, fulfilling his promise to them. This alone was enough to earn them the highest respect.

The slaves suffered considerable losses, with the vast majority of the corpses belonging to them, but these poor souls, who had endured so much suffering, were no longer bothered by this bloodshed.

After a fierce battle, many slaves looked like completely different people. Their eyes became sharp, and their movements became more agile. They knew what to do without their superiors whipping them.

This group of slaves actually repelled a terrible legion... something that would have been unthinkable in the past, but has now become a reality.

Many slaves no longer looked timid and hesitant; they had gained a little confidence, as if they believed they could become people outside of slavery.

And all of this, in the final analysis, was brought about by him. He was the one who caused these changes, the one who connected these people whose fates were originally unrelated, leading to the current situation...

Whenever he passed by the slaves, these suffering people would bow to him with an almost pious attitude... He had an army of his own, and they trusted him absolutely.

………………

If things go as expected, this hasty siege should be coming to an end. The unprepared Hols will soon realize that without their heavy catapults, they have no chance of taking the city in a short time.

If the merchants who left the city had not been delayed on their journey, they should have already reached the empire and spread the news of their group.

Unless the emperor and his brother are truly idiots, they surely know what to do...

These thoughts raced through his mind until he had surveyed the entire city wall and then, under the escort of cavalry, returned to his residence.