Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Having done all this, each of them plucked a handful of leaves from a plant with yellow flowers, rubbed them all over their bodies, nodded to each other, and climbed back to the treetop...

This wasn't the best option, and Colin knew it very well... These two missing guys would eventually attract more searchers, making them easier to expose... But if they hadn't dealt with those two soldiers earlier, they would have been exposed immediately.

Fortunately, they don't have to hide forever. Just like every time before, as long as they wait for the heavy hoofbeats to sound here, everything will fall into place.

…………

The soldiers' search yielded nothing. They practically turned the entire mountain upside down, but still couldn't find the rumored uninvited guests. Several hunting dogs conscripted from the villages and their owners were driven into the jungle, where, under the threat of swords, they began searching for any clues.

But the mountain people are experienced and cunning hunters. They would not easily reveal their tracks and become prey. After dealing with the two soldiers, they immediately moved their hiding place and acted even more carefully, leaving not even much of their scent behind.

In the midst of this tedious search, the enraged soldiers chopped off the heads of two hunters, but still made no progress. As a result, the initially tense soldiers gradually relaxed. They figured that the scurrying insects were already terrified and wouldn't dare to jump out and cause any more trouble, so relaxing a little shouldn't be a problem...

This slackness lasted for a long time until that annoying man in black robes suddenly jumped out and berated them. Under the king's orders, they had to obey this disgusting fellow's orders, so the soldiers were mobilized again, no longer staying within their defensive lines, and began searching all over the mountains and fields once more.

But how much could they find in the darkness with only torches for illumination? That should have been the case, but unexpectedly, they headed towards a specific area with a clear objective, as if they had been given prior information.

The Holsian king stood before the cave... his expression was so solemn and conflicted. Julius's operation had failed. Ever since the imperial reinforcements arrived, they had no chance of taking the city... at least from a general perspective, that was certainly the case.

His kingdom and empire were at war for years, and the two countries seemed to be mortal enemies, but there are no absolute enemies in this world... At least he had enough friends in the empire. As long as there is enough money and benefits, anyone can become a friend.

These friends gave him a guarantee... that no more reinforcements from the empire would arrive in the city. His generals and commanders were all extremely disheartened, thinking that the empire would continue to increase its strength. But as the king of all, he knew that they still had a chance of victory...

To call it a victory simply by reclaiming the city that originally belonged to him sounds too meager and cowardly... But he had no other desires. This country originally did not have the national strength to confront the empire. It could only rely on the rugged mountains that grew naturally to block the empire's iron cavalry.

He was unwilling to accept this situation and had been trying to make changes since he took the throne... but it was too late. If he lost the city, he would never have another chance to change the country.

He knew why the northern nation was so powerful, and what its strengths were. His ambition was to make the Hols a nation of equal strength. He was willing to pay a far greater price for this than his enemies could imagine.

Even more so than any of his commanders, his nobles, his family could have imagined.

Just give him a little more time, just a little more time... He's willing to give so much for that...

Chapter 75 Swift Horse and Light Blade (1)

Light footsteps sounded behind him, and a thin, dark figure, as long as a wooden pole, appeared behind him. Camus drew his blade, causing the figure to stop abruptly as if struck by lightning, and then stand awkwardly five steps away from him.

The gleaming, sharp swords were pointed at every part of his body. These experienced soldiers would not hesitate to dismember the man if the king gave the slightest nod... They were more than willing to do so. Everything this tall, thin man did seemed to provoke the disgust of others, or rather, every part of him and every word he spoke seemed to be designed for this purpose.

Even the most sociable person would find him utterly repulsive after just two days. More than one person wanted to kill him, but the king's orders allowed this guy to boss them around, making him increasingly unscrupulous and fully unleashing his vile nature.

Sensing the undisguised malice around him, the tall, thin man in the black robe revealed a fawning smile beneath his hood, while cautiously lowering his head. But a deep, venomous resentment flickered in his eyes.

"Your Majesty, I have come here to report on the progress of the ceremony. It has now entered its final stage, and soon we will achieve our most glorious victory..."

"I'm willing to trust you, my advisor."

Julius's neatly trimmed beard twitched, stained with smudged wine and food scraps. His face was also covered in grime, making him look utterly unkempt—a stark contrast to his impeccably groomed appearance just two days prior.

"Your achievements during this period have been evident to all. You have made so many contributions, so how should I repay your loyalty? Or do you need nothing at all?"

"Of course I don't need anything... To be honest, in this world, apart from Your Majesty, there probably isn't any other great figure willing to let me fulfill my long-cherished wish. Just for that alone, I've already gotten everything I wanted... Hehehe!..."

The thin man's shoulders were trembling, and his whole body was like a writhing snake. Extreme madness and excitement flowed in his eyes, and glistening snot and saline dripped down his chin. His hands and feet were also waving incessantly, as if he had the words "I am a madman" engraved on his forehead.

Seeing that the soldiers around him were looking at him with increasingly hostile eyes, and were about to rush up and cut him to pieces, the man in black robes finally calmed down and stopped acting crazy.

"It seems we both got what we wanted, which is great. This is the foundation upon which we can trust each other. I will continue to seek your help, and I hope we can continue to cooperate like this."

King Julius gazed coldly at the distant lights, the city that once belonged to the Hols, now illuminated the soldiers of the Empire. He had to change this, and he was willing to pay a heavy price for it.

The tall, thin man in black robes suddenly turned his ear to the side, and everyone saw a small red dot disappear into it in the firelight.

Soon a smile of excitement appeared on his face, and his withered fingers began to twitch incessantly.

"Found them! Found them! Your Majesty, our men have finally found those rats!"

"Really? That's good... Clean them up and don't cause too much trouble here. I don't want to suffer too many unexpected losses. Hilt, bring over the Third and Fourth Battalions. For at least a week, not even a rabbit is allowed to get close to this place!"

"But Your Majesty! In that case, the power used to protect you..."

“I’m not so fragile that I need that kind of meticulous protection! Bring them all here.”

The captain of the guard, clad in gleaming armor, lowered his head and accepted the order. A few minutes later, several large birds with long, elegant feathers soared into the sky, carrying the order far away.

Soon, a commotion arose in the forest as flames flickered and died down. Startled birds flew from their nests, trying to escape the danger emanating from the noise.

Angry roars and the sounds of swords clashing and cutting into flesh moved rapidly through the jungle, approaching in a specific direction.

The king of the Hols soon received some interesting news: the attackers had not only not been annihilated, but were instead moving towards him... It was unclear whether this was due to specific intelligence or sheer luck.

But Camus and his men could not let him take such a risk. The captain of the guard immediately wanted to take the king away from this dangerous place, and after a moment's thought, Julius agreed to his officers' request.

After all, he can't help anything here. Although everything has entered the most crucial final stage, he can't do anything else here. He'll just abandon everything else.

Thus, before the firelight reached this place, His Majesty the King had already left the mountain peak and arrived at the camp below, surrounded by his personal guards. This caused a small commotion before calming down, with only the firelight on the mountain peak still flickering.

………………

The sound of hooves echoed through the jungle as the warhorses moved nimbly, avoiding the trees and bushes of all sizes. The cavalrymen on horseback wore only ordinary chainmail, with lamellar vests covering their upper bodies. Their skirts and extra armor had been removed to reduce weight.

Marching through the night and through such complex terrain is a great test for an army. The slightest carelessness can lead to people falling behind or going missing. For an army with poor organization, less than half of them may reach their destination after a night march.

But this group was clearly not among them. Each of them skillfully maneuvered the reins in their hands. Even though they were marching through the complex roads and rugged terrain of the mountains, not a single person fell behind. Everyone silently followed Tersolius, who was leading the way.

Although the moonlight was perfect, the jungle remained shrouded in darkness due to the obscuring leaves. However, despite wearing that flamboyant winged helmet, his sharp eyes were still able to see the path clearly, allowing him to lead his cavalry accurately over the mountains and valleys.

The warhorses were losing strength. Even though they were riding the best horses in the world, they were traversing some of the most difficult and rugged mountain roads in the world, and at breakneck speed... Ordinary horses would have been worn out long ago, only the fine horses they rode could withstand such torment.

Although the distance was not far, they chose the most rugged and difficult route for the sake of secrecy. So before setting off, they fed their warhorses clean water and bean feed, and also added eggs and salt, just to keep them in good physical condition.

The warhorse's breathing gradually became heavier, and sweat soaked the padding under the saddle, but it became more and more spirited, running faster and faster, and even gradually becoming excited. Its master had to pull it tight to keep it from running too far.

The fresh hay and beans in their stomachs are being digested and absorbed. The rich and plentiful food supply allows these warhorses to continuously recover their strength as soon as they slow down, which is far superior to that of ordinary mounts.

When the sweat from their horses had completely soaked through their saddles, they finally saw the firelight on the distant mountain peaks. Everyone tightened the reins on their warhorses and took a short rest on the slope...

"Marcus! You lead the first team up the mountain path on the left. If you encounter resistance, scatter them immediately and get to their aid as quickly as possible!"

A troop of cavalry roared away, kicking up a cloud of dust. They didn't carry powerful lances, but rather longswords and chain maces. Riding swift horses and wielding light swords, they arrived at the scene with incredible speed and launched an attack with lightning speed.

“Alka, go through the jungle in that depression and meet up with Marcus. Remember to take them by surprise and throw the whole mountain into chaos. Don’t linger. Once you’ve got what you need, leave. Just keep them confused.”

Arka yanked his chainmail visor down hard, grabbed his chain mace, and charged forward. Another troop of cavalry followed him, their gleaming swords flashing coldly in the moonlight. Apart from the sound of horses pounding the ground, there were no more shouts or battle cries.

Tersolius adjusted his helmet, straightening it after the long ride, let out a soft breath, and then urged his horse forward.

The remaining cavalry immediately followed, equally silent, with only the billowing dust and gleaming swords announcing their arrival before disappearing into the jungle in the blink of an eye.

With two twangs of bowstrings, the two dark figures standing on the tree let out a muffled groan and then fell headlong to the ground. The cavalrymen didn't even glance at them as they charged past.

Meanwhile, the distant sky was ablaze with flames, like beacons guiding the way.

………………

"This is bad! This is bad! The situation is very bad... I have to hide, yes! I have to hide."

The man in the black robe was pacing anxiously. A blood-red fly was perched on his shoulder, rubbing its two slender front legs and occasionally scratching its head to remove the dust. Its two transparent wings also fluttered from time to time, cleaning itself thoroughly.

But its owner is far from having a good time and is currently in a terrible dilemma.

The man hesitated for a moment, taking two steps towards the cave entrance, but immediately stomped his foot to stop. He then turned and walked back towards the blood pool, only to stop again after a few steps, turning back hesitantly to look outside the cave.

He was really worried about leaving his treasure here... but he couldn't move this big pool. If an uninvited guest barged in, it would ruin the entire ceremony, and all his efforts would be in vain!

Men often struggle to make decisions. Perhaps they subconsciously feel that doing so is the safest approach, but some decisions have uncertain outcomes. If they could be more resolute, things wouldn't usually turn out too badly... What often makes a situation spiral out of control is this indecisiveness.

Sometimes, doing nothing is the worst thing you can do.

Before he could suppress his hesitation, a scream and the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside. He finally reacted like a stubborn donkey that had been whipped, ultimately deciding that his life was more important. So he pulled up his robe, buried his head, and rushed outside.

As soon as he stepped out of the cave, the noisy, bloody smell filled the air. This sweet and pungent smell even made him relax for a moment... Only the hot blood that had just gushed from his neck could have this smell, and it would dissipate after a while.

A sharp whistle suddenly came from beside his ear, tearing a hole in his hood. The fly was immediately startled and flew away in a panic, but was blown off balance by the air current from the passing horses. Then, it was flicked by the flames on the brazier, and its thin wings instantly turned to ashes. The tiny insect fell into the embers, and after a short while, there was a "pop" sound, and splattered liquid everywhere before it became completely still.

The man in the black robe shuddered, as if someone had kicked him, but he didn't dare stop. A pitiful wail came from the side.

A Holstein officer, with a heavy arrow lodged in his chest, was pinned to a pillar, but fortunately, his heart and lungs were not injured. He weakly let out pitiful howls and cries.

A dark shadow swept past him, leaving a trail of blood. Half of his neck was ripped open by the blade, and he immediately went still.

Striking shadows swept swiftly through the camp, like a rapid gust of wind. But this storm brought not the swaying of grass and trees, but piles of blood and severed limbs.

Startled awake in the dead of night, the Hols had no time to mount an effective resistance. All they heard were screams, the sound of horses' hooves, and warnings of enemy attacks. They had no idea where the enemy was. Dizzy and disoriented, they ran aimlessly around the camp.

Fortunately, they were a trained army, not some kind of peasant army that would break out at the slightest fright. Officers were constantly trying to organize the scattered soldiers into an effective resistance.

But so far, none of them have succeeded. Every time they make such a move, a heavy arrow, seemingly out of nowhere, will pierce through them. The arrow shaft and feathers, painted black with black paint, make it impossible to tell where they came from. Only the killing of one officer and commander after another accelerates the chaos in the entire camp.

The gaunt man, wrapped tightly in a black robe, moved forward quickly in a contorted posture, almost using both hands and feet, but for some reason no one paid attention to him. Even as he passed right by the soldiers, not a single person turned their eyes to him.

But these people did not include Tersolius… that sneaky, fleeing shadowy figure, no matter how you looked at it, had “suspicious” written all over his back…

Chapter 76 Swift Horse and Light Blade (2)

The cavalrymen, who came roaring in, were like a pack of hungry tigers. They lurked in the darkness, sharpening their teeth and eyeing their terrified prey. Every now and then, they would suddenly extend a claw and take away more than a dozen lives.

Although the garrison here was considered elite, being ambushed by a large group of cavalry in the dark was the most disadvantageous situation. They couldn't see where the enemy was coming from, and with their commanders being shot one after another, they were unable to organize themselves and were soon scattered and fled.

As long as they turn and run away, the cavalry will not pursue them, allowing them to escape and making the whole mountain even more chaotic. The fleeing soldiers are like a virulent contagious disease, and if no one stops them, this desire to flee will spread to the entire army...

With no resistance around the cave, the cavalry charged into the entrance, only to turn pale as they rushed in.

They had seen countless corpses, and even created thousands of them themselves... but none of them had ever seen such a horrifying pool of blood, filled with pale and wrinkled human heads, like substandard grains floating in a pot of water, shriveled in the middle, colliding and rolling on the surface.

No one knows exactly how many heads there are. New ones keep rolling up from beneath the blood, colliding with other heads. The flesh on them is white and wrinkled, but it doesn't rot. It's a heart-wrenching scene of utter devastation.

But this hesitation was only momentary. Soon everyone regained their composure and began to take the red pottery jars off the saddles and smash them on the cave floor. The black, viscous liquid inside flowed everywhere. They even smashed a few jars and poured the black oil into the blood.

After doing all this, Marcus picked up a burning ember from the brazier outside, blew on it gently, and threw it in.

Orange-yellow flames immediately shot out of the cave. In addition to kerosene, they also threw in a lot of wooden items such as roadblocks and deer antlers. Once the fire started, they wouldn't stop until everything flammable inside was burned...

The wood and oil crackled and popped incessantly, and the intense heat caused the hair under their helmets to curl, forcing them to step back.

Watching the orange-red flames billowing out of the cave entrance, accompanied by thick black smoke, it was as if they had filled the entire cave with oil, rather than simply scattering a few cans of oil on the ground.

Some observant people quickly noticed that the billowing black smoke seemed a bit off. It wasn't a vast, boundless cloud, but rather wisps of uniform size that shot into the sky and vanished in the blink of an eye.

From the time they launched their attack to the time they lit the fire, it hadn't taken much time. Logically, they should retreat as soon as possible to prevent the Holsteins from realizing what was happening and surrounding the entire mountain...

But General Tersolius seemed to have discovered something and plunged into the woods, not yet returning. So everyone waited silently, and even though the army in the camp below might have already been mobilized, no one tried to pull their reins.