Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

The old farmer had lived like this for most of his life; for him, life consisted of the fields and his dilapidated house. He couldn't imagine anything else.

His son was busy in the field next door, swinging his hoe with great force, but when he saw this, he just smiled and shook his head—this kid's personality was nothing like his; he was always in a hurry no matter what he did.

Human physical strength is finite, yet also profound. As long as a suitable pace is maintained, new energy will continuously flow in, allowing one to persevere until rest.

By squandering all his energy in a rush, he only makes himself more prone to fatigue, which is why this strong young man can never surpass the old man in farming.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before his son slowed down, while the old man continued to swing his hoe at a leisurely pace, leaving behind a large field cleared of weeds.

When it was time for lunch break, the old man was still full of energy, while his son had become exhausted and kept wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The two sat under the shade of a tree and began to enjoy their lunch—cold water in a ceramic pot and two dry, hard biscuits, which were a real test of their teeth.

The only thing that could be used as a dish was a sauce wrapped in broad leaves. This dark sauce was made from fermented beans and was indispensable with meals, providing all the salt needed for the whole day.

Cicadas had already begun chirping among the leaves. In this sweltering summer, the monotonous chirping of cicadas was so distinctive that it made one feel drowsy. The old man looked at the wheat seedlings in the field with some concern.

The sunlight was so harsh that the leaves of these delicate seedlings curled up slightly. If there was no rain, these seedlings would dry up and die in the soil in just a few days.

Logically, this should be the season when rain is plentiful, but the sky these past few days has remained cloudless, so blue it's almost unsettling.

A gasp suddenly rang out from the nearby field, and the old man instinctively grabbed his hoe.

But he quickly realized that the shout did not contain any fear, but rather a sense of surprise.

A sound like muffled thunder suddenly came from the distant land, immediately surprising the old man... He knew what this sound was; only a large army marching on the road would make such a sound.

Flat fields line both sides of the wide road, dotted with large trees and a few shrubs. Neat irrigation ditches meander through the fields, providing the land with the water needed for crops to grow.

People were working in every field, but most people gathered under the shade of trees to drink some water and eat something to give themselves the energy to continue in the afternoon.

But now, people have spontaneously gathered together, standing on both sides of the road, discussing the matter noisily.

As soon as the magnificent black double-headed eagle banner came into view, a commotion erupted like a storm, and everyone hurriedly retreated.

Almost in the blink of an eye, the fierce cavalrymen, clad in full armor, swept past like a gust of wind, kicking up clouds of dust. The crisp sound of their iron hooves pounding on the stone slabs was as dense and rapid as raindrops.

Even though they had already stepped back, the spectators on both sides of the road were still covered in dust and spitting on the ground to clear the foreign objects from their respiratory tracts.

Before they could finish, the fully armed legion soldiers had already marched along the road with dense and orderly footsteps, and the end of their path, with its precipitous, blade-like peaks, was already clearly visible.

Saric stared blankly at these elite soldiers. Each of them was impeccably groomed, with nothing on their bodies that would hinder their movement. Their greased armor and weapons gleamed, and each soldier kept their mouths tightly shut. Their baggage was bulging, indicating that they were not lacking in food.

Other daggers, canteens, and tools for digging trenches and building camps were hung in their designated places. Everyone's shoes were brand new and sturdy, made of the finest cotton cloth, with multi-layered leather soles.

These soldiers were so respectable and elite that they broadened the old man's horizons. Almost instantly, a thought involuntarily took hold of his mind:

"If only my grandchildren could be like them in the future..."

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"This guy is a significant risk; perhaps he's doing all this just to gain trust."

Thesolius didn't turn his head, but he knew exactly what his brother was saying:

"That is indeed possible... but his anger and hatred are definitely not fake, so he will naturally make a smart choice."

"Anything else? I don't believe that's your only reason."

A slight smile appeared on his face as he dodged the opponent's punch by subtly shifting his shoulder.

"Also, this guy is really talented... and the kind of talent who is good at operating behind the scenes, which is exactly what we need."

"...You mean spies and assassins?"

Nathamus seemed to suddenly realize something, and Tesorus continued:

"Even knowing where those two were hiding, the fact that he was able to finish everything and get back in such a short time is enough to prove his talent... not to mention that this was the person originally in their plan to carry out the assassination."

"Although I know that fat pig will definitely do something, would he really be that stupid? To let his family's former slaves do this? Wouldn't that be telling everyone that he's going to commit a shameful and evil act?"

Tersolius raised an eyebrow slightly, a strange expression appearing on his face:

"Perhaps he has gone mad, or someone is interfering and has caused this situation, or perhaps both... As for the specifics, we will naturally find out once we enter the city."

"Judging from your expression, you must already have a pretty good idea, right?"

“There are some, but you don’t need to worry…” Tersolius gently spurred his warhorse, keeping it moving at a steady pace. “If I’m not mistaken, this won’t affect us; in fact, it might even be a significant help…”

Just as he was about to say something, a rapid sound of hooves approached, and a cavalryman arrived in front of them in the blink of an eye. After a brief exchange, he handed him a copper tube with both hands.

Looking at the seal on the copper tube, Tersolius smiled slightly, then reached out and peeled it off without hesitation.

"Is it her letter?"

"That's right, it's hers."

The two walked side by side at a leisurely pace, their horses maintaining a comfortable distance without requiring them to tighten the reins excessively.

They all knew who this 'she' referred to—and this was their unspoken understanding; the seal used to seal the copper pipes didn't bear a family mark, but rather an image of a carrot and a potato piled together…

The stamp looks rather cute; the carrot, which should be slender, is round and plump. Others might find it puzzling, but they can clearly understand the message it conveys.

Natamus stared at the letter for a while, then suddenly realized what he meant and looked at his brother with slight surprise:

"Can you understand it now?"

"It's only a part, but the content you saw is not the same as mine..."

Natamus suddenly understood:

"Is it that same set of secret texts you two came up with again?"

“That’s right. I need at least two more months to become proficient at reading text… She probably doesn’t know that and thinks I’m still the same as before.”

"I really don't know how a brain as smart as yours grows. You can actually convey messages using those strange patterns. Why do all these patterns look the same to me?!"

"We put in a lot of effort to get this done, and we messed it up countless times..."

After casually replying to his brother, Thesolius's lips gradually curled into a smile, while Nathamus visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"It looks like things are going well, at least better than I expected."

"Have everyone hurry and send out messengers to spread the news of our arrival."

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

The capital of the empire is never short of noise; even in the quiet of the night, there are always people who stay out all night, supporting the city's nighttime prosperity.

The deep darkness was finally about to pass, and experienced soldiers could already tell from the subtle differences in color in the sky. The armor that had been dim in the night was now becoming clearer under the increasingly bright light.

In such cities, the night is often a haven for murder and crime. The vastness of the city makes it impossible for the garrison to cover everything, thus giving urban gangs and other forces room to survive.

A group of soldiers slowly marching down the street had become quite lax. They were not wearing heavy, ornate armor; a light chainmail covering their chest and abdomen would suffice.

Even the weapons weren't as extravagant as those used in war; a spiked iron club was enough to handle most situations and give any troublemakers a good beating.

No citizen or slave was allowed to wander around the city at night. Anyone found doing so would be fined or whipped. To fulfill this duty, the captain wore a long whip made of cowhide around his waist.

Everything was normal in their assigned area today. They didn't encounter any unfortunate souls with their throats slit and thrown into the sewers, nor did they see any thieves sneaking around at night instead of staying at home.

Then, they could simply walk back to their camp along the wide road, lie down in bed and catch up on their sleep, making up for the sleep they had missed during the night.

For this reason, the soldiers were all in low spirits, and some were even drowsy, yawning constantly, with tears welling up in their eyes.

They passed through road after road without any hindrance. The captain, who knew this area better than his own home, casually glanced around. It wasn't necessarily because he wanted to find anything, but more because it was a habit he had developed over the years.

The torches in their hands were almost extinguished, and no one cared about anything else. They just wanted to get back to the barracks as soon as possible and get a good night's sleep, desperately trying to keep their groggy minds clear.

On such a quiet and harmonious morning, not knowing whether to be happy or sad, a black figure flashed through the alley and disappeared. The captain's heart skipped a beat.

To be honest, he really didn't want to run into any trouble at this time... but this just happened to happen to him... Thinking of the rumors that had been circulating in the city in the past few days, he hesitated for a moment, but still led his soldiers to follow.

Chapter 101 Arrival (2)

Even though they are only wearing short-sleeved chainmail and small helmets to protect their heads, the garrison responsible for maintaining the city's security is not someone that ordinary gangsters can mess with. They can often beat out many times their number of troublemakers in a short time.

This is certainly because their chainmail makes most of the attacks from the commoners ineffective. More importantly, the third-line troops responsible for maintaining order in the city have also received some training and can at least cooperate with each other to form a formation, which is beyond the ability of ordinary people to fight against.

Although the patrolling soldiers were exhausted, they dared not slack off—if some assassin or similar figure managed to infiltrate the city and track them down, they would likely be in trouble.

So they immediately gave chase under the leadership of their captain, and split into three teams. Taking advantage of their familiarity with the terrain, they moved to encircle the streets on both sides, hoping to catch the suspicious guy in a big trap.

Their weapons were tough ash wood clubs with iron tips. They were not easy to kill unless aimed at vital organs, but they could easily cause intense pain. They were also sturdy and durable, and required no special skills to use. Logically speaking, anyone who could use a hoe could use this.

No one was foolish enough to open their mouths and shout, and they didn't even walk too fast. Using the shadows of the street and the cover of various stalls and corners, they flowed into the corners of the street like three gentle streams of water.

A few minutes later, the three groups of people gathered in a dark alleyway, looking at each other in bewilderment... and the black shadow seemed to have disappeared into the ground, never to be seen again.

If it weren't for the fact that several other people had also seen it, the captain would have almost thought he was hallucinating from exhaustion. Somewhat unwillingly, they scattered again to search everywhere, but in the end, they returned empty-handed.

They would be punished for letting the assassin in, but they would also be rewarded if they caught him. Even if he wasn't an assassin, they would get an extra reward for catching other troublemakers, which is why they were so enthusiastic... Now it seems that this money is not meant for them.

The only thing we can do is report this to our general and let that man deal with it... that way, the responsibility for this matter won't fall on our shoulders.

…………

Not long after, the general of the Loristician garrison received a report that there were suspected assassins in the city. Because of the undercurrents in the past few days, he dared not be negligent and immediately sent a report to the Golden Palace.

When the emperor dealt with his state affairs at night, this report was naturally seen and, as a matter of course, received his attention.

Claudina pondered for a moment, then tapped her fingers lightly three times on the table. The figure dressed in black silently descended from the rooftop and appeared behind her.

"Have any spies returned to the city recently... and exposed their presence?"

"No, esteemed master. There is still a month before the next intelligence report is due, and all the spies are in their respective areas of responsibility."

The emperor nodded slowly, but said in an unquestionable tone:

“Then investigate. I don’t want any despicable scoundrels plotting their schemes in this city. Find them and eliminate them… Figure out why they’re here, my hounds.”

Your will cannot be defied.

………………

In the darkness of night, the emperor's henchmen moved out silently, casting their nets before dawn, which unknowingly enveloped the entire city.

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Malt-fermented liquor is the most common beverage in cities.

Every day, large quantities of wooden barrels are transported to the city by horse-drawn carriages. These are new wines produced in nearby farms, but they are often consumed within a day. As the capital of the empire, even the beggars here are richer than their counterparts elsewhere.

No one would refuse a glass of ale from a cool cellar on a hot day, and even the poorest workers and laborers wouldn't be stingy with such a thing.

These taverns, which offered food, were also important areas for information exchange in the city, besides the three large bathhouses. Merchants and other travelers from all over the country brought all sorts of news, some true and some false, and spread them among each other here.