Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

What a bloody and evil scene this was! Anyone with a normal understanding would feel fear and indescribable disgust. A faint layer of blood mist lingered throughout the cave, making the air here extremely cold.

The screaming and weeping slaves were pushed to the edge of the pool, desperately begging for forgiveness, not knowing what they had done wrong to deserve such a miserable end.

The desperate cries and wails grew louder and louder, but the heartless and bloodthirsty soldiers still pinned them to the ground one by one, and then swiftly and decisively chopped off their heads with their sharp, curved swords...

The severed head fell perfectly into the pool, and the blood gushing from the neck cavity flowed into the pool like a clear spring. The headless corpse was still twitching involuntarily, but as the blood rapidly drained away, it finally quieted down.

Just like slaughtering chickens and ducks, the soldiers swiftly and decisively killed all twenty-five slaves. After all the blood was poured into the pool, they moved the corpses to a nearby corner and piled them up.

The chill in the cave seemed to intensify, causing the soldiers to shiver involuntarily. Just as they were about to leave, a series of rapid footsteps came from outside the cave. Soon, the fully armed Camus and his men formed two lines and made way for each other.

Seeing the red triangular flags on their spears, everyone knew who was coming in... The soldiers immediately bowed and waited for His Majesty the King to pass by.

The first thing that catches the eye is a pair of exquisite iron boots. They are made of delicate iron plates connected by brass rivets. When the foot bends, these slender iron plates are stacked and stretched out, just like soft leather.

When the boots reached the end, another series of soft footsteps came. The long, dark purple robe reached all the way down to the instep, revealing only the exquisite velvet boots underneath.

Only when both pairs of boots were standing before the pool of blood did they have the right to raise their heads...

The king of the Hols looked young. He had long, black hair that reached his shoulders and curled at the ends. He wore a sharp-edged golden crown and a set of exquisite heavy armor.

A heavy cloak was draped over his shoulders, its white and gold fur apparently plucked from some animal.

Various patterns are embroidered on it with delicate silk threads of different colors. They are so intricate and elaborate that they are not even noticeable from a distance.

His armor was also covered with the same tiny patterns, his beard was neatly trimmed, and beneath his thick eyebrows were sharp eyes. A long scar cut open the corner of his mouth, all the way to near his neck, splitting his entire cheek in two.

Although the wound has healed, one can still imagine how devastating that attack must have been.

The man beside him, dressed in a long black robe, concealed his entire body beneath it, revealing only a long, pointed nose protruding from the hood. His body was as tall and thin as a withered piece of firewood.

The Hols king, Julius Wid Bernard, was not in his camp, but appeared in this hideous and gruesome cave.

"How long can it last?"

The king spoke in a dry, cold voice, like the rubbing of tree bark, which instilled fear in those who heard it.

"Hehehe! This is just the beginning, my Your Majesty. As long as there are enough offerings, this ritual can be maintained until next month...hehehe!...And it hasn't even reached its best effect yet; it's still building up, hehehe!"

The man in black robes kept emitting unpleasant, low laughter. His voice was as cloying and sweet as oil with too much sugar, making people feel uncomfortable from the bottom of their hearts.

Julius remained expressionless, his fingers lightly tapping on the ornate curved sword at his waist.

"How much 'raw material' was added today?..."

The cavalry captain beside him immediately realized that the question was directed at him, so he quickly replied:

"Your Majesty, a total of 104 ingredients have been added today, and another 56 are about to be added."

Julius nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to the man in black:

"I hope you won't let me down. Remember, all the sacrifices I make need to yield the right results, otherwise you won't want to face my wrath."

"Of course! Hehehe! My Majesty... Of course! I will absolutely not let you down..."

The strange voice of the man in black robes came from under his hood, sending chills down everyone's spine. The king, however, ignored it and turned away, mounting his horse outside and quickly departing under the protection of Camus and his men...

Another group of over 50 slaves was driven over, their eyes filled with confusion, not knowing what kind of work they were to be brought here for.

But no matter what, as long as you behave well, you'll definitely survive... after all, that's how it's always been before.

-------------------------------------------------- ------

"I'll say it again, continue the offensive."

The king's eyes were icy cold, but the nobles defiantly voiced their opposition.

A tall, burly Holstein man with extremely short hair was among their main force, loudly and bluntly refuting the king's orders:

"You must be out of your mind, Your Majesty! The soldiers have suffered heavy losses, and no one is willing to attack the wall anymore. Even if Aefus descended upon them, it would be impossible to get them within a single step of the wall in any short time!"

"We have nothing but those broken ladders to attack the city walls. This is using our soldiers and our wealth to fill a bottomless pit! Even if you are the king, you cannot issue such an absurd order!"

"An absurd order!?"

Julius suddenly sprang into action, grabbing the man's head and slamming him hard onto the table. The surrounding nobles cried out in panic, never expecting that a king would disregard his dignity and take matters into his own hands.

The king's face was twitching slightly, and the scar at the corner of his mouth looked as if it might be torn open at any moment, revealing a gaping, bloody maw on his face.

"You call this an absurd order?! You bunch of stupid and short-sighted idiots, only thinking about your own little things!"

The man, who looked stronger than the king, struggled desperately, but he could not shake off the hand pressing down on his head. As the hand tightened its grip, the intense pain made him groan involuntarily.

"Alperth is lost! Alperth is lost, do you understand? With the loss of this city, our entire northern defense line will be rendered useless, and those imperialists can invade our land at any time! Not just your territory, but our entire kingdom is under great threat!"

"You may be reluctant to accept these casualties now, but when we are truly unable to retake the city, the price we will have to pay will be far heavier than this, and none of you will ever have peace again!"

The king forcefully flung the man out of his arms, sending him rolling from the bottom of the tent onto the muddy ground outside.

Seeing that the lords had fallen silent, but their expressions still clearly showed resistance and anger, the king sighed inwardly and waved to the side.

A guard approached respectfully carrying a wooden box adorned with gold patterns, and presented it with both hands.

The king reached into the box, opened it, and took out a stone slab, placing it on the table to everyone's astonishment...

"In that case, as your king, I demand that you abide by the ancient covenant and fully support my actions... By the Cherros Tablet, you must obey my commands."

All the Holstein nobles bowed their heads, and even the most unruly duke knelt on one knee on the muddy ground outside to show his submission.

"As for the soldiers, you don't need to worry, they won't be afraid... Just follow my orders."

The king regained his composure in the blink of an eye, as if he had been a completely different person just moments before.

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

Thesolius was resting in a chair with a high back that allowed him to rest his head on it. The blood-stained steel still covered his body, now dried scabs.

Several flies were attracted by the smell, flapping their wings and buzzing as they tried to land on him, but as they got closer, a wisp of smoke made them fly away in a hurry.

Its unique herbal aroma is fragrant but slightly pungent, but this level is definitely enough to calm the mind and repel those annoying mosquitoes.

The magnificent winged helmet lay on the table, its empty eye sockets coldly surveying everything in the room.

Tersolius was really tired. Even a champion renowned throughout the empire could not remain unexhausted after charging into enemy territory more than ten times. To keep his mind clear, he needed to find a place to sleep for a while.

He didn't know how many Hols had died at his hands yesterday, only that his sword was completely ruined... Even if he tried to avoid hard bones, the blade was jagged like dog teeth and was beyond repair.

The sun slowly rotated, and the herbs that had been burning slowly in a small jar finally turned to ashes. Without the obstruction of the smoke, a fly wobbled and landed on his face.

But before the slender limbs could even touch his skin, Thesolius suddenly opened his eyes and, with lightning speed, flicked his finger, shattering the fly into pieces in mid-air.

He slowly sat up from the chair, stretched his stiff neck, and then let out a long breath, his eyes regaining their vitality.

A slight pain shot through my arm. Although the armor I was wearing was excellent and heavy, it had suffered damage of various sizes due to prolonged high-intensity use.

The wounds on my arm were from being scraped by a dense barrage of spears. The once neat chainmail rings now have many missing pieces and cracks, and I need to find a craftsman to repair them.

After stretching his shoulders and neck to quickly warm up his stiff areas, Tersolius checked his weapons, put on his helmet, and went out the door.

Only half a day had passed since the last attack ended... He had to admit that his judgment was wrong; the Hols had not been unable to organize an attack despite their morale collapse...

On the contrary, for some reason their morale was high... they were attacking the city walls with almost fanatical attitude, suffering heavy losses themselves but also inflicting considerable casualties on Tersolius.

This is completely illogical. Despite suffering such heavy losses, these soldiers showed no fear whatsoever. With their bloodshot eyes wide open, they launched attack after attack, only to retreat under a hail of arrows and sharp weapons.

Even though they had scattered in fear more than once before, they always managed to regroup and launch the next attack... They were more like a group of bloodthirsty undead than ordinary Hols people...

What was originally thought to be a solid defense became dangerous under such an attack. Ultimately, their numbers were far fewer than those of the attackers, and even relying on the city walls, they suffered considerable losses.

Moreover, the Hols could take turns attacking to maintain their stamina, while the defenders could only hold on by going all out, and before long, all the defenders were exhausted.

This situation was certainly not normal… He knew this very well, and it all started when that king arrived at the camp. What exactly happened there?…

Chapter 68 Changes (4 words)

The spear in his left hand swiftly tore through the chainmail, its crimson tip piercing straight through his back; the sword in his right hand pried open the head beneath the helmet, causing a splatter of viscous red and white liquid to erupt.

The spear traced a beautiful arc in his hand, slicing open the throat unprotected by chainmail. The sword, with its hilt of gold and white jade, pierced straight through the cheek, and then, as it was pulled out, cleanly severed the other head.

They can't be eradicated...

This was all Tersolius could think of; it was like fighting a horde of undead who seemed unafraid. This was the ninth attack, and each time they left behind a large number of corpses.

The pressure in the city was mounting. He never expected to encounter such a situation. These Holstein soldiers were acting like madmen, their blood-red eyes wide open, completely disregarding their lives.

Even if they kill many, those who remain still have the courage to stand before them and grip their swords.

…………

Thesolius brandished his spear and sword, swiftly and decisively slaughtering his enemies. In the blink of an eye, he had cleared the entire city wall, leaving no one a match for him.

Everyone cheered and applauded for him, and with their morale boosted, they drove the enemy still standing on the city wall down in one fell swoop. The sounds of swords and spears clashing and piercing flesh were endless.

When the Holsians receded like the tide, exhaustion and numbness overwhelmed them, and the soldiers, who had been in high spirits, sat down on the ground, panting heavily.

Everyone was exhausted, even the strong mountain people and cavalry had reached their physical limits... The Hols could take turns attacking, but their numbers were limited, so they could only go all out each time.

This is not only a great test of physical strength, but also a great torment to the mind... All you can see are bloody corpses and sticky entrails, their unclosed eyes staring straight at the sky... Spending a long time with these horrific things will make a person's mental state very bad.

Even though they have good quality food to enjoy every day, including hot white bread, hot soup made with vegetables and diced meat, and sometimes even large chunks of stewed meat.

But even after eating his fill, the physical fatigue and psychological stress could not be relieved in time, and he had already noticed some ominous signs.

Some soldiers had become somewhat neurotic. At the slightest sound, they would stare wide-eyed, looking left and right. Even when extremely exhausted, they could not fall asleep and could only drag their weary bodies to fight the enemy, only to easily lose their lives.

Some people even lost their appetite, spending all their time with these mangled corpses, which made them lose the excitement they used to have when eating meat.

These soldiers need to get proper rest and relaxation; people aren't machines, they can't stay on edge forever... But now, he was starting to suspect that these Holstein soldiers might be machines; they seemed to have absolutely no fear or morale.

If this continues, the city will be exhausted and eventually collapse; their numbers are simply too small.

If the situation continues like this, he may have to consider conscripting the men in the city and sending them to fight on the city walls.

If this were an imperial city, he would have done so without hesitation, but these citizens had just been conquered and were simply not up to the task.

Of course, everyone knew that the Hols' army had committed massacres in the surrounding area. Logically, the citizens of the city should have fully supported them. At least after entering the city, they did not engage in widespread looting and slaughter, which made them more trustworthy.

But Tersolius couldn't place his bets on it. Expecting someone to remain rational for an extended period is a luxury, especially when there are many people involved, as many emotions are easily swayed.

Moreover, he did not believe that these extravagant and dissolute citizens were capable of such a job; they could not possibly become qualified soldiers, let alone qualified militiamen.

...Reinforcements, when exactly will the planned reinforcements arrive?...

The only way to break this deadlock is to hold out until reinforcements arrive. With the support of elite imperial legions, he can make those Hols outside crash headfirst into the city walls and die.

The mobilization of an army requires a massive plan and time, let alone an army of tens of thousands... Even if, as the rumors say, his brother, who was his only family, did his best to mobilize the army, it would not be able to get here in a short time.