Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

Tersolis pointed to a shallow ford to their side, the only place on the great river where the current was relatively slow, allowing them to cross by horse. The other places were very fast-flowing. Apart from this pebbly ford, the Kurist people could only rely on the bridge downstream to enter the province, and now Fariaburg, which guarded that bridge, had received new support.

The two men immediately looked enlightened, but Tersolius, unusually intrigued, continued speaking:

“Although the water here looks shallow and wide enough for a large army to cross, it is still a large river with a rapid current. Once the men and horses enter, they will move at a speed like turtles crawling. If they are caught up with halfway across, they will be annihilated here without any resistance... If someone is bold, they might take a gamble, but the Khan of the Kurist people seems to be a cautious person.”

"Moreover, the Northern Third Army Corps and the Second Army Corps have already come from the direction of Mount Ogus. There is no place for them to stand on this land. If they do not cross the river today, they will be surrounded and annihilated by us. If they rush to cross the river, it will only make their troops more chaotic and prolong their ranks, making it easier for us to take advantage of them."

“If they want to return to Kurist, they have to eliminate our threat first. Otherwise, I can just lead my cavalry in pursuit and that will be enough to inflict heavy losses on them… In any case, they will have to fight us eventually, at least to make us retreat.”

"They arrived a little faster than I expected, and the Kurist people almost escaped... It seems that the Khan of Kurist has successfully gathered his men in a short period of time."

"They'll have no way to turn back now... The Kurists are going to fight to the death, everyone go and get ready."

The officers and generals obeyed their orders and rode their warhorses back to their units, keeping the soldiers in line and maintaining the army's formation.

The army advanced until it reached a low hillside, and only after completely occupying the high ground did it finally stop and prepare for battle.

From a distance, it looks like a silver sea of ​​flowers growing on the hillside, except that the fluorescent light comes from hard, cold steel, not soft petals.

Various flags were fluttering in the ranks. At the officers' commands, the soldiers began their final preparations, praying to the goddess Phoglina for the upcoming battle. The thirst for victory and glory filled every soldier with excitement, and cheers rose and fell, each one like rolling thunder rolling outwards, their morale high from the very beginning.

The legion's soldiers had been well-rested over the past few days, and only yesterday and today were ordered to speed up their march. Most of them were still in good physical condition. The Kurist men, on the other hand, were clearly not wealthy enough to carry many warhorses, and their horses were already exhausted.

The Kurist army also began to approach them, and a quarter of an hour later they appeared on the distant hillside. It was also a huge, dark mass, and the dust kicked up by the massive number of warhorses blotted out the sun. The Kurist people's shouts and clamor were equally powerful, and the Khan's flag was swaying in the wind in this chilly weather.

Khan Torid looked up at the gloomy sky, a cool breeze blowing on his face, carrying a few drops of moisture—it was very likely to rain today, but he didn't know whether it would be a good thing or a bad thing for them.

He wasn't in a good mood, but he maintained a habitual coldness that kept him from losing his composure.

His opponent was more cunning than he had imagined... In the past few days, the spies he sent out had suffered heavy losses and had basically not learned any news about the other side. Out of 10 spies he sent out, at most 4 would return. At that time, he had a bad feeling... He did not expect that even though he rushed to the scene and even shed blood, he was still a step too late.

There weren't many fishing boats on the river, and even if they were all gathered together, they wouldn't be enough to transport a large army. He had thought that someone might be lying in wait at Faryab in the south, but he hadn't expected that he would be blocked here as well...

This shallow area wasn't unknown to anyone, just very little, but the fact that General Teresolius, who had never been to Cerisonas before, knew so much about its geography caught him completely off guard.

He had already felt the pressure from this country. This place was no longer a rich land where they could plunder at will, but a dangerous prison. If they could not escape in time, they would be crushed to pieces.

After sighing, Torid waved his hand slightly, and his guards blew horns to summon the nobles of the tribe. The desolate and long horn sound was extremely penetrating, and before long, dozens of nobles from the tribe gathered under his tent.

He could see the worry in their eyes. The current situation had caught everyone off guard, and they were instinctively seeking the will of their Khan.

"Don't be stingy with the people and horses under your command. You must all do your best later. This is not for me, but for yourselves!"

Without any unnecessary words or false pretenses, Tori laid bare a stark reality for everyone to see—they were in a dangerous situation and had to fight for their lives.

The dignitaries were slightly agitated, but eventually calmed down.

Unlike nobles in other countries, the tribal nobility has never been inherited. The position is always held by the person with the most authority and power. All the bloodline left by the previous chief will be ruthlessly slaughtered... Naturally, no fool would have any ridiculous ideas when it's time to fight to the death.

Ultimately, the reason they came here is because they are used to fighting to the death, and they will not lack the determination to retreat when there is really no way out.

"Our horses are exhausted. Let them take turns to recover their strength. Don't be stingy with the plundered grain or salt. If our horses can't run, we can't fight the Empire on foot."

"Keep your tribe in check, and don't let any fools turn and run away. This time, no one can escape. If you want to bring back the good loot, you'll have to shed more blood."

"Gesongli, you go and harass them first. Remember, you're there to buy time, so don't do anything stupid!"

"Muliyu! Take your men to explore the river and see how deep the water is in other places."

“Let our people rest for a while too, in shifts, of course…”

………………

As Toridu's orders were relayed one by one, the previously chaotic Kurist army began to reorganize. Their warhorses, exhausted from the long march, were fed salt and beans in the hope that they could recover their strength more quickly.

Another mournful horn sounded, and a long, earthen-yellow banner fluttered from the Kurist army, leading out about 3000 Kurist soldiers. These Kurist soldiers, with bows drawn and arrows nocked, kicked up clouds of dust on the ground. After slightly adjusting their direction, they began to rapidly approach the Imperial army.

The Kurist riders, as swift as the wind, crossed the wide plain between the two armies in the blink of an eye. Their hooves trampled and dug through the grass, leaving a messy muddy path behind them.

As they drew nearer into firing range, at a single command, countless arrows, like black swarms of poisonous bees, rained down upon the enemy, bringing with them bloodshed and death...

Chapter 129 Fierce Battle

Arrows crisscrossed the sky, many colliding and falling in mid-air, like a black cloud enveloping the army formation, craving soft flesh and blood, but most crashing into cold steel.

"Maintain formation!"

The legionary soldiers lowered their helmets, letting the flying arrows strike the solid steel. The pointed helmets, made of fine steel smelted from the best iron ore in the central mine, could easily deflect most of the attacks, especially preventing the hammers from hitting their heads solidly.

The soldiers waited silently for the stronger "rain" to pass. The bluffing shouts and howls of the Kurist had no effect on them. Covering their vulnerable faces with tough leather and reinforced with steel oak shields, the experienced veterans had already gripped a javelin.

The Kurist men were no longer dancing on the edge of a knife... they were rolling on a blade. The crossbow bolts and arrows flying from their ranks never stopped, like a torrential rain sweeping them off their horses layer by layer. Every moment, Kurist men were shot off their horses, and in the blink of an eye, they were turned into bloody sacks of flesh amidst the flashing hooves of their horses, never to be seen again.

The Empire's army was so wealthy and powerful that the number of arrows they carried far exceeded the Kurist people's imagination. The arrows rained down like a storm for a very long time without stopping, yet there was no sign of them running out. Every minute and every second, these Kurist people who came to harass the country with courage felt like an eternity.

When their warhorses are exhausted and slow down, the Imperial light cavalry, having rested and recuperated, will sweep over them like a fiery cloud, completely scattering and driving them away.

The Imperial legions were like a fortified city made of people, unmoved by the Kurist's attempts to lure and harass them, repeatedly driving them away and crushing them, leaving piles of corpses in front of their positions, like an automated machine for slaughtering fish and shrimp. Although the blades would wear down, its efficiency was far superior...

"They're getting anxious."

Although he said this with a smile, his tone was very certain. Tersolius calmly glanced at the bloody battlefield in front of him, then turned to look at Colin, who was wiping the blood off his face.

This wasn't enemy blood, but rather a stray arrow that unfortunately grazed her cheek, lodging right between her flesh and chainmail, preventing the hard steel from taking effect.

Such a situation might be rare in normal times, but it is not surprising on the battlefield where these two armies are facing off. Anything can happen under the overwhelming rain of arrows.

"Why do you say they're getting anxious? The main force is still standing there, not moving."

Colin pulled a cotton cloth from her pocket and stuffed it into her helmet. The highly absorbent cloth quickly stopped the bleeding. At the same time, she asked the same question.

This mountain girl was quite different from before; her fearless, bandit-like spirit had diminished considerably. Although she was still not exactly composed, she had begun to learn many things about the army. Tersolius was pleased with this progress, and as long as she was willing to learn, he was happy to teach her.

"Because they have begun to disregard casualties."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed to the pile of centaur corpses:

“They know perfectly well that they can’t shake my resolve, but they keep sending wave after wave of men, but it’s all to no avail. They’re just wasting their lives… So far, we still have 90% of our arrows left. If things continue like this, we can defeat them with just our arrows.”

"And if this continues, how long can their courage last? How many warriors are willing to risk their lives here?... Ultimately, the initiative in this war is in our hands. They have to get through here, so they have to run their army into our lines."

"The lack of progress and results has made them anxious... Look at their central command."

Colin squinted, her excellent eyesight allowing her to spot the gleaming armor and sturdy helmets. This extremely elite force had been gathered around the royal tent, showing no intention of moving an inch no matter how fierce the battle became.

“These Kurist people who come to harass us are creating an opportunity for us… and this opportunity has never come, which is why I say they are getting impatient.”

"Perhaps it won't be long before they launch a full-scale attack, attempting to disrupt our formation with their numerical superiority. If we retreat temporarily, they will be able to cross this river and escape."

“Until then, we just need to hold our ground. I have no intention of fighting them to the death…” Tersolius stroked the helmet in his hand, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I’m here to collect debts, and I have no intention of getting hurt by debtors. They are the ones who have no choice…”

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

There was no flaw... not a single flaw could be found.

Tori scratched his chin helplessly, realizing his current predicament.

If the sun were visible in the sky, it would have already traveled quite a distance. During this time, the Kurist people had launched countless raids, but none had managed to break the disciplined ranks.

This was not the kind of warfare the Kurist were good at—a head-on clash of steel and flesh, a slow and steady attrition of bloodshed until one side was defeated.

The Kurist people should be as fierce as wolves and as cunning as foxes in war. They never gnaw on bones that will make them bleed; they are born to find the enemy's weaknesses and to be as swift and free as the wind.

Every Kurist man is born with six legs. From the moment they learn to walk, they begin to learn to ride horses. No army possesses such terrifying mobility and speed. They should be toying with their enemies, exhausting them on the vast lands, and then turning back to tear apart the flesh of their weak prey.

But now, they have no choice... This land has become a terrible prison, and they can only desperately try to break through that terrible iron wall. This is no longer a battle, but a struggle for survival.

He couldn't help but wonder how the Kurist people had ended up in such a predicament—even though the country had always been so powerful, they had always managed to find a way to cope, so why were they in such a desperate situation this time?

The answer has always been clear—it is greed, unrestrained greed.

They had long coveted the empire's lands and coveted its wealth and food. So, once given the opportunity, they were driven by greed. They were too confident in their warhorses, thinking they could take a big bite out of the empire and then escape unscathed.

Now they will pay the price for their greed... This time, their opponents were well-prepared from the beginning, having built the cage without them even realizing it, until finally they suddenly alerted the enemy and tied the hooves of their warhorses.

Toridu gently tugged at two of his own beard hairs, but he didn't seem to care. He simply addressed the tribal chiefs gathered before him:

“Let’s try one last time… Follow me and see if the Imperial General wants my head… If we can lure him out and kill him, then we still have a chance.”

"Of course, if this doesn't work... then everyone should take their people and run for their lives... The other imperial armies have already surrounded us, so leave as many as you can. Don't think about the loot you've taken. Remember to spread out and leave, so fewer people will die."

No one spoke, but the nobles of every tribe bowed to him... His guards pulled up the magnificent and conspicuous royal banner, and thousands of horses began to trample the earth, making the entire ground tremble like a war drum.

The central army of the Kurist forces has moved!

This was an offensive launched by nearly 3 cavalrymen. The entire world trembled under this terrifying force. The earth was almost turned upside down by the horses' hooves, and the dark clouds in the sky seemed about to dissipate.

The soldiers could clearly feel the tremors beneath their feet. Under the officers' orders, their formation became even more disciplined, preparing to meet the impending assault.

Sharp spears emerged from the gaps in the shields, turning each square formation into a terrifying forest of steel spears, enough to turn any enemy who dared to offend them into a bloody mess of limbs.

The archer officers had already measured the distance, and the archers, who had been taking turns resting, were all full of energy. Now, at the officers' command, they began to raise their powerful crossbows, draw their bows, and wait for the order to fire.

When the endless cavalry, like a dark cloud, reached within range, the assembled Imperial archers finally began to exert their full strength for the first time today. A thin black cloud flew into the sky, covering the distance until it fell into the surging tide, splashing up blood and corpses before falling silent, without even causing the tide to pause for a moment.

But then, the few arrows that had been flying off turned into a terrible storm, relentlessly washing over the surging tide and carrying with them piles of blood and corpses.

The Imperial Legion's arrow reserves finally began to run out rapidly. The auxiliary soldiers transported bundles of arrows and crossbow bolts to the ranks of the archers, and then watched helplessly as these sharp arrows were shot into the sky.

In the blink of an eye, the Kurist people had suffered more losses than they had in the entire morning. Horses fell one after another after being shot down by arrows, and Kurist men on horseback fell like wheat being harvested. Even though they tried to keep their distance, they still had little effect against the dense and terrifying rain of arrows.

The bows they carried were of varying quality and their range was far inferior to that of crossbows and foot bows, so they could only suffer terrible casualties and wait for the enemy to enter their firing range.

The continuous deaths of men and horses caused their speed to slow down involuntarily, but in this short burst of speed, the speed of warhorses was ultimately beyond the reach of humans, and they still managed to get close enough for their arrows to reach them.

Without any orders, every Kurist began to desperately draw their bows and shoot arrows. The arrows fired by tens of thousands of people at the same time truly covered the ground like a torrential rain.

With such a terrifying number of soldiers, cries of agony rose from the fully armed Imperial Legion as the dead and wounded increased, and chaos inevitably broke out in the ranks.

In the blink of an eye, a layer of white arrow feathers sprouted from the open ground around the legion, densely packed and visible everywhere, and continued to grow at a visible rate.

As the Kurist warriors galloped across the plains, some would occasionally stumble and fall, swallowed by the rolling hooves of their horses and never to be seen again… But they finally broke through the area and could clearly see the expressions on the faces of the heavily armored legionary soldiers.

But they didn't see what they wanted to see... The legion remained unshaken and was retreating in an orderly fashion, revealing what was hidden behind them—spiked barricades made of thick wooden stakes bound together.

The imperial legions always carried these wooden stakes when marching, both ends of which were sharpened to prevent the enemy from climbing after being buried in the ground. They could also be bundled together in groups of three with thick ropes to make an effective and simple barricade.

Having no other choice, the Kurist men gritted their teeth and charged forward. Many were still instinctively drawing their bows, unaware that they had run out of arrows. The vanguard of Kurist men smashed into the defensive line. The chevaux-de-frise slowed their advance, the spears halted their horses, and the wielding axes and various heavy weapons tore them to pieces—in the blink of an eye, they were in a state of slaughter. Facing these well-prepared elite heavy infantry, they were almost powerless to resist.

But the attacking Kurists were simply too numerous. Even the spiked barricades were overwhelmed in the blink of an eye, and the Imperial Legion's defensive line began to retreat involuntarily, with many legion soldiers being trampled under the hooves of horses.

With that momentary impact, the Kurist finally shook the Imperial Legion's morale, causing the entire defensive line to begin to fluctuate.

Arrows from both sides continued to crisscross the air, bringing wave after wave of death; casualties reached their peak at this moment.

The Khan of the Kurist tribe charged the deepest, and his elite guards had indeed opened a breach in the defensive line, and were trying to widen it. The heavy and ornate banner fluttered in the gale, and all the Kurist people subconsciously followed in their Khan's footsteps.