Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Tesorus wiped his mouth wearily, then hung the water pouch back on the saddle. The leather pouch had been tanned, so it didn't have much of an odor, but it didn't keep well. If it wasn't used, the water had to be changed every few days. However, in the current hot weather, the water in the pouch would be empty in less than two days, so there wasn't too much to worry about.

The convoy transporting the army's supplies was lagging behind because it was moving too slowly, but half of the elite cavalry were dedicated to protecting the supply convoy, so there was no need to worry.

Food and water are plentiful, and they are about to officially enter the rebellious province, so they must be on high alert... This is the only thing they need to worry about right now.

…………

In the afternoon, on the long table in the central command tent, a very detailed provincial map was laid out. Tersolius carefully examined it by the light of the oil lamp. More than a dozen fierce-looking soldiers in full armor stood quietly around him, all officers of the rank of chiliarch, qualified to attend meetings regarding the legion's next move. The short-statured Colin stood out somewhat among them, yet he was still fully armored and exuded a certain imposing presence.

His standard-bearer and his personal guard commander, Arka, stood nearby, swords at his sides. The imposing and menacing cavalry surrounded the tent, and no one was allowed to approach until a decision was reached. Otherwise, they would surely be met with swords and die on the spot.

This rebellious province boasts four large horse ranches and sixteen medium-sized ones, along with countless smaller ones. The number of horses exceeds the population, yet its proximity to Curist, coupled with its sparse population, makes defense a constant challenge. To counter Curist raids, a military fortress stands in the southeast of the province, along the Didoris River, garrisoned by over 2000 soldiers. With its formidable walls and ample water supply, it consistently inflicts heavy losses on the restless Curist.

He didn't know much about the Kurist people, but he was quite familiar with the Kiel people—after all, he had brought the head of their last Khan back to the capital himself, and preserved it with lime to prevent it from rotting too badly. However, the people of the Empire were in a frenzy at the time, and no one noticed the stench emanating from the box containing the head, which choked him and the Emperor quite a bit, preventing them from saying any more pleasantries.

The Kurist people, like the Kiel, are nomadic peoples living around the Empire. Because of the Empire's powerful military strength, they are forced to live in barren and cold lands. Every time there is a disaster, they suffer heavy losses, and their people are as cheap as grass. This forces them to raid the Empire time and time again in order to survive. Even though they suffer heavy losses, they can reduce the population so that the remaining people can barely survive on scarce food.

They did not see the officials who were supposed to greet them, nor did any messengers arrive from the provincial capital, Polidos. The situation seemed somewhat delicate, causing him to hesitate for once.

Tesolius didn't know much about the area, and being unaware of the enemy's situation was a major taboo in war, so even though they arrived in time, Tesolius wasn't prepared to act rashly.

Although he had enough confidence in his army, many elite troops had been wiped out due to arrogance and overconfidence. As the saying goes, a good warrior does not achieve great feats, and preparations are always better. In particular, his opponent was the cunning enemy, the Kuriset, whose entire population was a soldier. The nomadic people who came and went like the wind were never opponents to be underestimated.

After a moment's thought, he made up his mind and began issuing military orders:

"Yuriedos".

A lean, strong man stood up. His exposed hands were sharply defined, as if forged from steel, and two long, thin scars ran from his bald head down to the corners of his mouth, making him appear fierce and ruthless.

The centurion Yuriedos saluted his general, preparing to receive his next orders. His eyes were filled with eagerness, knowing that he would be the first to be entrusted with important tasks, since his troops were all lightly armed cavalry.

As expected, Tersolius thought for a moment and then spoke:

"Send your cavalry out to scout roads and towns. See what the conditions are like there. If you encounter any Kurist scouts, try to kill them. If you can capture them by the tongue, even better. But don't let them lead you too far. Get back before dinner."

The centurion immediately accepted the order, turning and rushing out of the tent to make preparations. Soon after, the neighing of warhorses and the commands of officers filled the air. As the barricades at the camp entrance were removed, cavalrymen in red cloaks roared out. They swept out like a red whirlwind, their fine chainmail shimmering silver in the galloping horses, their black plumes adorning their chainmail neck guards and gleaming helmets in the sunlight.

Their saddles also carried recurve bows made of a composite of sinew, horn, and wood. These bows were highly effective, short, and portable, allowing riders to turn and draw their bows on horseback. The leather quivers were decorated with exquisite patterns, the arrow shafts were straight with neat fletching, and the arrowheads were triangular steel-tipped armor-piercing arrows, which greatly compensated for the disadvantage of horse bows in terms of power compared to foot bows.

The other spears, shields, and short weapons at their waists gleamed coldly, all of excellent quality. Coupled with their strong and swift warhorses, the elite status of this cavalry unit was self-evident. With a few brief commands, they were well-trained and divided into several small teams, then dispersed to scout the area along the main roads.

With over a thousand light cavalrymen dispatched, and after making further arrangements, Tersolius adjourned the meeting. All that remained was to be cautious and secure the camp. Decisions would depend on receiving new information.

This was the limitation of ancient times. The efficiency of information dissemination was the same as that of fast horses and carrier eagles. No matter how many ideas you had, you could only wait patiently.

………………

The officer was panting heavily. Although his face didn't show too much fear yet, his eyes had begun to dart around involuntarily. The group of red-cloaked figures behind him were like haunting wolves, their sharp arrows whistling deadly as they pierced towards their backs. These guys were right behind them in a blind spot, unable to retaliate with their bows and arrows—after all, only a very few people could shoot arrows with both hands; most people were still accustomed to using their right hand.

The two who were fleeing with him were hit by a hail of arrows and became like hedgehogs. They tumbled off their horses without even a cry, leaving only the out-of-control horses running around in panic. This made his heart sink – he was already half-dead while being chased by these guys.

He immediately realized that he might not be able to escape today, but he still refused to give up. The tenacious and fierce nature of the nomadic people made him grit his teeth and desperately whip his warhorse, trying to survive and escape with his life.

A volley of arrows came flying, and one, unable to dodge in time, pierced his shoulder. However, the sturdy shoulder blade and leather armor plate blocked most of the force, preventing it from penetrating too deeply and causing him to fall headfirst off his horse.

The intense pain made his cheeks twitch, and blood began to seep into his filthy clothes, but he was still unwilling to give up. He lashed the warhorse's rump with the whip, leaving bloody welts as he desperately fled.

With a shout, before he could react, two lassos were thrown at his head. He desperately ducked to avoid one, but the other snagged his arm. With a terrifying tug, he was sent flying into the air before crashing heavily onto the grass...

The cavalrymen let out a small cheer, the two men dismounted, grabbed the dazed Kurist man who had fallen to the ground, and beat him senseless before tying him up and throwing him back onto the horse.

The same scene was unfolding across the western part of the province, with the legion's elite light cavalry launching attacks in all directions, catching the Kurist people, who were busy looting or resting, completely off guard. In the blink of an eye, dozens of bloody and brutal small-scale skirmishes had broken out, with the cavalry winning one after another and reaping considerable spoils.

But no one relentlessly pursued the spoils. They possessed a discipline that the Kurist people lacked, and they did not forget their fundamental mission. They quickly surveyed the surrounding area, searching for information in the burned villages and towns, while simultaneously transferring the captured prisoners back to the army's encampment.

Even Tersolius hadn't expected such a quick result, but after carefully interrogating the Kurist people they had captured, he was still somewhat disappointed... These were just small tribes who had come to plunder, and they knew practically nothing. They only knew that the empire's provinces were in chaos, and they could take advantage of the situation to rob someone.

There's no need for them to do slave labor for the army right now; the slave soldiers are doing a good job as auxiliary troops. These guys are actually a destabilizing factor... So in an instant, Tersolius nodded slightly, and dozens of Kurists were pushed out to be beheaded. Legion soldiers holding long axes were already waiting beside the dug pit to prevent the corpses from attracting wild animals and causing plague.

The panicked Kurist people became even more panicked. Even those who couldn't understand the Imperial language realized that they were about to be beheaded. The gleaming axe seemed to still have bloodstains that hadn't been wiped off, which sent chills down their spines.

The legionary soldiers, accustomed to killing, swung their axes without blinking, severing heads from necks as easily as chopping a melon. They ignored the chaotic pleas and cries for mercy. They simply piled up heads one after another, like melons harvested in autumn.

Just as they were about to be wiped out in the blink of an eye, a Kurist man with blood streaming from his shoulder suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs:

"The Empire's... General, the Empire's General! I know... more! Please spare my life, I'll tell you everything!"

Although he stammered as if his tongue were tied, he still managed to catch Thesolius’s attention. With a wave of his hand, a soldier grabbed him by the neck, dragged him out, pressed him in front of him, and then kicked him in the knee, forcing him to kneel down. A handful of his hair was even pulled out.

"continue."

The chilling voice sent a shiver down the spine of the kneeling Kurist. The screams beside him resumed, the sound of an axe blade slicing through flesh and breaking bone, carrying a strange, crisp quality, like a venomous insect desperately burrowing into his ears.

"You continue."

As blood splattered and mournful cries echoed, Tersolius looked down at the disheveled Kurist before him, waiting for the other to speak.

“Honorable warrior…Honorable sir! We saw the Khan’s army gathering when we entered the waterlands! Before that, Lut from the tribe told us that we could join the army and plunder…We just saw the Khan’s army gathering and heading north! Spare my life, and I can lead the way for you!”

Tersolius raised his eyebrows slightly, but he didn't agree to anything. With a wave of his hand, someone tied up the Kurist man on the ground with a rope and dragged him away, ignoring his impatient and urgent shouts about being willing to lead the way.

Tesolius walked thoughtfully into his tent... If this guy wasn't just spouting nonsense to save his own life, then it meant that the Kurist people were likely launching a full-scale invasion this time—even their Khan had set up his royal tent and begun to amass a large army.

The suppression of this rebellion appears to be more complicated than anticipated, and he needs to prepare in advance.

Chapter 119 The Rebellion of Cerison (4)

Even though they had come from afar, the legion's soldiers did not expect to encounter any difficult battles. After all, the information they had received was that it was just a routine suppression of a rebellion, and the rebels, who had not yet amassed an army, could not contend with them.

This was more like a small exercise to keep the soldiers, who had been idle for most of the year, from becoming lax and complacent, and to hone their skills.

So even though they maintained strict discipline, they didn't march with the same tension as in previous major battles, and they didn't take the so-called enemies seriously at all.

But now the situation is different. The captured Kurist revealed an important piece of information—the Kurist Khan has set up his royal tent and begun to gather troops from various tribes.

The Kurists are slightly different from the northern Kiel. The northern Kiel have to endure the harsh cold year-round, and every winter is a death sentence for them, with the possibility of families being destroyed and corpses lying everywhere. This forces them to migrate south to survive. Therefore, although the region is vast, the harsh and barren land can never support too many people.

The Kurist people in the east were much better off. They were less likely to encounter the terrible White Disaster, and the climate was relatively mild. In addition, the great river originating from the Turigin Mountains was right next to them, making their lives much better than those of the Kiel people.

With their relatively large population, they were able to raise a sizable army. In addition, these nomadic peoples were generally skilled riders and archers, fierce in nature, and even had some ability to smelt iron ore, and they frequently harassed the empire's borders.

Contrary to popular belief, nomadic peoples actually have a relatively low ability to withstand risks, their livestock are very prone to death, and they cannot drink milk and eat meat every day. Their lives are far less comfortable than those of the common people in the empire. They have long coveted these wealthy neighbors and would never miss any opportunity to take a bite out of them.

Moreover, judging from the cavalry reconnaissance, the province's defenses are likely stretched thin, leaving no spare capacity to protect ordinary towns and villages. This explains the current scene of scorched earth. It's unknown where those elusive, wolf-like Kurist people are currently wreaking havoc...

Without much hesitation, he immediately wrote a military report and dispatched it by fast horse back to the capital—if it really was a large-scale invasion by the Kurst people, then the empire would have to take serious action.

He already knew the province's terrain by heart, and he had a plan for how to deal with the turmoil. However, with such a vicious wolf lurking nearby, he couldn't do anything. He had to cripple the wolf's leg first, making it flee in fear and disarray... Only then could the area be brought back to peace.

………………

The generals in the tent all looked serious, gathered around their commander, and were arguing incessantly.

This legion was full of proud and fierce soldiers. Even though they knew that the number of enemies this time exceeded their expectations, no one had any intention of retreating. They were looking for a direction to advance.

Some suggested that the nearest territory, Koryat, should be brought back under the Empire's control first. This would not only provide a safe rear, relieving the legions of any worries, but also prevent the Kursts from cutting off their retreat and supply lines.

Some suggested that they should first go to Politos, the provincial capital, to meet with the provincial governor so that they could understand the current situation and make a more accurate judgment, rather than acting rashly.

Some even suggested capturing Faria Castle first, thus cutting off the Kurist's retreat and annihilating them all on Imperial soil. They wanted to make these despicable barbarians pay the price they deserved.

Everyone's suggestions have some merit, but it's impossible to have both. In the current climate of insufficient information, every choice seems to have various problems, which is why many people cannot convince others.

So no matter how much they argued, the final decision rested with Thesolius. As the arguments grew quieter, everyone realized the change in atmosphere, stopped speaking, and focused their attention on Thesolius standing at the table.

"Zarathos".

The tall centurion leaped out from the crowd.

"Get your men ready. They'll set off first thing tomorrow morning to block these two mountain passes. If the Kurist people want to continue their invasion, they'll definitely have to pass through here. You're responsible for guarding this place and receiving any reinforcements that follow. Set up a stronghold here, and don't forget to dig for water to ensure the road remains clear afterward."

The centurion immediately accepted the order, while Tersolius continued to assign tasks without pause.

“Hilnir”.

"After the cavalry have scouted the surrounding area, tomorrow you will lead the vanguard to set up camp for the main force in the town of Torrias, which is 60 gallons away from here. Do nothing else. Anyone who dares to charge will be executed on the spot!"

"As ordered!"

"Yuriedos!"

“Clean up the area around Keryat. If you encounter any wandering refugees, send them home and tell them that the army has arrived and there is no need to worry about the rebels anymore. If you encounter any rebellious Iris, you can kill them and disperse them. Don’t let those mobs gather together.”

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

As orders were issued one after another, the massive military camp was in a flurry of activity, even though it was already completely dark. Soldiers were busy preparing the things they would have to carry when they set off the next day. Although the wagons carrying supplies had not yet been attached to the livestock, the contents on them had already been secured again.

After all preparations were completed, the soldiers, who had already eaten and drunk their fill, took turns resting early in preparation for setting off early the next morning.

In the darkness of the camp, only the lights lit by the patrol squads illuminated the way. The disciplined legionary soldiers had made the defenses impenetrable, so that not even a mouse could sneak in unnoticed.

The vast area surrounding the camp was dotted with countless sentries, both visible and hidden, acting as the eyes of the behemoth that was the army, guarding against the enemy whose base of operations remained unknown.

Even if someone wanted to launch a night attack, they would be discovered early on and would end up in a deadly situation... But nothing happened all night. As the sky began to lighten, after breakfast, the army took advantage of the cool weather and began to move out.

Completely unaffected by the lack of sleep quality, Tersolius rubbed his eyes and began to put on his heavy armor... He already had a guess, but this guess needed more evidence to prove it.

And today, he will witness it with his own eyes.

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

This was originally a large, leafy tree. In this early summer season, it should have had enough green leaves to provide shade for pedestrians. All kinds of insects and small creatures would live and reproduce on it. The leaves would rustle in the breeze, creating a dense and reassuring sound.

But now this once healthy and thriving creature has turned into a charred corpse, and the flames that ignited from its roots have completely ended the life of this great tree.

At its base, twisted, limb-bound objects piled up. If you looked closely, you could see burnt, withered hands and feet and a shrunken tongue in the mouth. The limbs convulsed and curled up in the high temperature of burning, and the face twisted and deformed under the scorching of the flames in extreme pain and fear, eventually turning into a layer of charcoal, revealing the blackened skull.

The twisted, charred hands and feet still bore the marks of being bound; some had even had limbs severed. The remaining charcoal around them clearly came from fuel used in the villagers' homes.

Amidst the burning villages, a group of Iris people were tallying up their loot. Their clothes, though filthy, were spotless. Everything was carefully selected from their haul, resulting in a colorful array of hues.

Although they hadn't slept all night, they were all extremely excited. Men, women, and the elderly alike were excitedly tying up their tattered bundles, their eyes filled with a frenzied look, and their hands were covered in a jumble of pitchforks, axes, and flails, all stained with blood and filth.

A man was shouting loudly and smugly:

"If I hadn't brought you to this village, you wouldn't have been able to plunder so many good things. According to our sacred covenant, each of you should give me a share!"

"Come on, you shameless bastard! This village isn't far from where we live, and you keep coming here. Everyone knows what's going on. How dare you ask us for a share?"

Immediately, someone stood up to refute his words, and the others also wore unwilling expressions. No one wanted to give up what they had stolen. Greed and resentment appeared in their eyes, as if the man who had brought them to this village yesterday and made a fortune had now become their irreconcilable mortal enemy.

“If I hadn’t discovered that everyone in this village was rich, how would you fools have even thought of coming here? These inferior people don’t deserve so much wealth. We’re just following God’s will to take it back from them. I’ve led you to do all this, shouldn’t you be grateful to me?! A little reward is the generosity you deserve!”

But his generous words had no effect; instead, they instantly aroused public anger. Almost everyone stood up and booed him, and some even grabbed blood-stained mud from the ground and threw it at him... No one wanted to give away what was in their pockets for nothing; it was like cutting off their own flesh.

The man was battered and bruised, especially with several stones sandwiched between him, which made him panic. He frantically tried to dodge, fearing that he might be secretly beaten to death—which was not impossible. He knew all too well what kind of people his compatriots were; if they were to secretly beat him to death here, no one would stand up for justice.