Cataphracts, surviving in a world full of mods

"But those two are way better than me... what can I do?"

The man slumped to the ground in dejection, his shoulders slumped. But after a while, he suddenly realized something—and his gaze fell on Toridou, whose eyes were half-closed:

"I see you're quite the warrior... Do you want me to let you go?"

The Khan of the Kurist people's lips twitched slightly, and he finally raised his head...

P.S.: I'll try to update during normal times from now on, as staying up late all the time is really bad for my health...

Chapter 134 The Khan's Wonderful Adventure (2)

"You want me to help you?"

Tori looked at the man in front of him with a half-smile, calmly adjusting his body, seemingly completely uninterested.

"Don't you want me to let you go? You should know that if I don't take care of you, you'll be a slave tomorrow, and you'll have your tongue cut out and be whipped for the rest of your life."

The man was slightly agitated, his urgency almost written on his face. He desperately wanted the burly man in front of him to help him, otherwise he knew he couldn't handle those two guys on his own.

"You make it sound so nice..."

Toridu narrowed his eyes, but his words were cold, continuing to manipulate the emotions of the man before him.

"Even if you say you'll let me go, the condition is that I have to fight those two to the death... I'm injured right now, and I can't even use half of my strength. It's just suicide. I might as well accept my fate as a slave and maybe I'll have a chance to get my freedom in the future."

The man grew increasingly impatient, his fingers involuntarily digging into his arms, causing the grime to flake off. Seeing that the time was right, Toridu abruptly changed the subject:

"But it's not impossible, as long as..."

"Just what?!"

"As long as you give me my armor and my knife, I naturally won't be afraid of those two... You won't even need to lift a finger; I can take care of them... I only want my knife and armor; you can have everything else. Then we can part ways amicably, how about that?"

A hint of joy appeared on the man's face, but just as he was about to agree, a moment of hesitation flashed across his mind—this guy looked like he'd killed a lot of people; if he gave him the knife and armor, what if the guy wanted to kill him too…

"I can give you the knife, but I'll keep the armor for myself. Do you agree? If not, fine. I'll just put up with this for a few more years and then find a chance to strike. You'll become a slave then."

Seeing the man's rare display of intelligence, Toridu chuckled inwardly—this was exactly what he wanted. Without help, he couldn't quickly put on his armor; what use would this fool have even if he left it behind? Did he really think this fool could stop him when he wanted to kill him? Besides, he was light and agile; he wasn't worried about the man escaping…

A troubled expression, tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction, crossed his face. But after thinking for a moment, he sighed softly.

"Alright, I don't care about anything else now... Give me my knife, I'll take care of them, then we'll go our separate ways and pretend we never met, how about that?"

"Okay, it's settled then!"

The man's face lit up with joy, and he was so happy he almost jumped for joy. Although he hadn't succeeded yet, he felt much more relaxed.

As the leather straps binding his hands and feet were severed, Tori moved his wrists and ankles, then slowly stood up while holding onto the wall. Although his head was still spinning and he felt unwell, he was able to stand steadily.

The hilt is inlaid with gold and wrapped with silver wire. The disc-shaped guard is inlaid with turquoise and lapis lazuli. The sharp blade has a wonderful curve, and the sharp tip is slightly upturned, which can easily cut through flesh.

This is the Khan's treasured sword, but these three guys have no idea of ​​its value; they just think it's a pretty sword...

He reached out and grasped his knife, gently waving it twice in the air. The gleaming blade produced a clear, resonant sound, and a faint chill permeated the cave.

The man's expression suddenly stiffened, but Torid didn't do anything extra. He simply wrapped the knife in a cloth, glanced back at him, and then disappeared into the cave.

The man suddenly panicked. He realized he might have messed things up. Although he had just wanted to tear those two men apart, he suddenly felt it wasn't necessary to kill them... He had let go of this obviously dangerous person, and he didn't know what the consequences would be...

The cowardly man began to have his suspicions again, and he now deeply regretted the decision he had made on impulse. If he weren't afraid of alerting the other two, he would have almost shouted into the cave to call out Tori, who had gone in with the knife.

But before he could come up with a solution, Torid had already slowly walked out carrying two bloody heads. The smooth, curved blade was spotless and gleamed in the bright moonlight.

The man's legs began to tremble. This seemingly down-on-his-luck old man, at this moment, was like a vicious wolf peeking out from the tall grass, scanning his head with a gaze full of evil intent...

Tori walked up to the man, tapped his face with the blade of his knife, and a mocking smile appeared on his lips:

"Find all my things, everything... don't leave out a single thing, or I'll use this knife to skin you alive, starting from the top of your head."

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

Wiping the fresh blood from his blade, Torid leaped onto his saddle and spurred his horse away from the rocky outcrop beside the low hill. The moonlight was exceptionally clear tonight, allowing him to clearly see the undulating grassland under its silvery glow. The free, cool wind that rushed into his nostrils made his bones feel refreshed. His horse neighed excitedly, its hooves moving faster and faster, making him almost seem like a gust of wind.

His blood-stained armor rustled, and the cold wind blew unimpeded over his bald head. He rode all the way to the top of the hill before stopping to find his bearings.

The scenery on the grasslands always seems somewhat similar; those unfamiliar with the land often lose their way, reminding him of his days as an ordinary shepherd… Back then, staying on the grasslands at night was dangerous and foolish. The ever-present wolves and bandits could easily cost him his life. So, at night, he would drive his flock to a nearby cave, blocking the entrance with sharp thorns. Then he would crawl inside and sleep with the sheep.

That was more than 20 years ago, but it felt like it happened yesterday... It was still the same boundless grassland, the terrain was still so gentle, the trees were still so sparse, and even the caves where he hid were scattered in roughly the same places.

He suddenly realized he had done something foolish—even though the cave had been cleaned up, why not rest there until tomorrow morning before leaving? ... But for some reason, he suddenly lost interest in going back, and just wandered aimlessly across the grassland in the dark.

His scabbard slapped against the saddle. Although he didn't know his exact location, he was certain that he was on the eastern grasslands. He was familiar with the smell of the wind here and could see the towering Mount Majaros in the distance.

He began gathering his army at the foot of that mountain. When he set out, he had more than 1 soldiers with him. After entering Cerisonas, more tribes gathered, bringing his forces to a total of 3 warriors... But now he is left alone, riding his horse across the grassland at night.

He experienced many failures in his life. After all, it was not easy to rise from a shepherd to the throne of Khan. He had experienced countless failures and escapes, and he had killed so many enemies that he could not remember them all. He had even hidden in the withered grass of the swamp like a stray dog, surviving on snails crawling on the rocks. He hid in the muddy and damp swamp for two whole days before he barely survived.

But never before had a defeat been so devastating… He didn’t know how many his army had lost, only that the endless mountains of corpses and seas of blood nearly drove him mad! The imperial soldiers, clad in full armor, slaughtered his warriors like pigs, and the rain of arrows was denser than raindrops. He was suppressed from beginning to end, and from beginning to end, he made no progress whatsoever…

He even suspected at that time that he was really fighting against the same steel... constantly banging his head against it until his bones shattered and he bled profusely.

The sight of cavalrymen, whose horses were clad in heavy armor, filled him with dread—his troops were always doomed to rout whenever they arrived, without exception. The imperial general, with his golden helmet resembling eagle wings and riding a tall, powerful warhorse, was simply unstoppable; he had never imagined a person could be so valiant…

Although he was knocked unconscious by a hammer in the midst of the bloody battle, he did not think that being awake would have any impact on the war. In fact, it might have given them too many concerns and affected his men's ability to escape.

………………

After lost in thought for a long time, Torid finally sighed and reined in his warhorse. Before him lay a small grove of trees, a perfect spot to rest.

He cleared a space with his long sword, then spread the blanket from his horse's back on it, lay down and wrapped himself in it. His warhorse was tied to a log nearby. Tori closed his eyes and soon began to breathe softly. Even the scabbed wound on his head did not affect him. Only his warhorse grazed on the tender grass in the darkness.

There's no point in thinking about it anymore; we've already lost anyway, so I might as well get a good night's sleep.

———————————–————————————————————————————————

As the commander and governor of the legion, Tersolius's tent was naturally located in the center of the camp, occupying a wide open space. Well-maintained drainage ditches were dug around the white tarpaulin to prevent dampness from seeping into the tent during heavy rain. Inside, there was not only a wide table and a bed for sleeping, but also a wooden rack for hanging armor and a chair for resting.

These tents would seem too rudimentary for a residence, but rather luxurious for a marching army—after all, in such temporary camps, most soldiers sleep in a single tent, with the entire squad crammed together.

Villages surrounding the city have begun to resume production. Villagers who had fled have spontaneously returned to their hometowns upon hearing of the army's arrival. All the Iris people in the province have been wiped out. As a result of this turmoil, the province's population is less than one-third of what it used to be. Many villages are now deserted, and large areas of land are no longer cultivated.

The most devastating losses were the looting of the Torimos and Vansmino horse farms... Although the Kurists who stole the warhorses were severely punished, and even their horses became spoils of war for the Imperial Legion, a considerable number of warhorses were still lost in the war, and the personnel and buildings of the horse farms were completely destroyed. It would certainly take several years to restore them to their former state.

Such a severe defeat and dereliction of duty is enough to bring misfortune upon a large number of people, and will affect the breeding of horses throughout the empire. The importance of this to a country surrounded by enemies is self-evident. It would not be surprising if even a governor were sent to the guillotine as a result. The anger and doubts of the imperial people need to be quelled.

Even after achieving an undeniable victory, turning the invading enemy into a field of corpses, Thesolius had no interest in cleaning up the mess. His actions were not intended to cover up the corruption, incompetence, greed, or dereliction of duty of certain individuals. Furthermore, having received authorization from the emperor and to pave the way for his future plans, he would not let this opportunity slip by, nor would he forgive those rotten roots hidden in the soil.

He now commands an army of nearly 2 men, a perfect opportunity to capitalize on the momentum... and this captured Iris merchant can reveal a great deal to him...

The only remaining Iris man on this land did not appear cunning or treacherous. On the contrary, his appearance gave people a sense of trustworthiness, without any slickness or hypocrisy mixed in. His clean-shaven beard added a touch of shrewdness, but his disheveled and tattered dirty clothes greatly diminished this impression.

The Iris man was kneeling at his feet, begging for the Empire's mercy and forgiveness, but Tersolius knew that this seemingly pitiful fellow was one of the main instigators of this rebellion and the Kurist invasion... He was weeping not for forgiveness for his sins, but because he was in Tersolius's hands and knew the tortures he would suffer, which was driving him crazy.

According to him, the Kurists plotted against him before their retreat—attempting to kill him and steal all his possessions. Fortunately, a loyal servant exchanged clothes with him, giving him a chance to escape by blending into a hay wagon.

But he certainly didn't expect that the Empire would regain control of this land in such a short time and issue harsh orders to deal with all the Iris people... So he was captured by the villagers nearby in less than two days. A bandit-hunting officer who knew his identity sent him here, which plunged him into utter despair.

Epilogue of Chapter 135 (2)

Generally, visitors to this tent are given a seat, except for sinners... He is not qualified to stand before the commander of the Imperial Legion, and even kneeling here would displease the Imperial soldiers.

This Iris man had clearly suffered a lot to be sent here. In the past, he was a very wealthy merchant who made a fortune every day. His lifestyle was extremely luxurious, and even the governor of the empire could not compare to him.

But now his feet, which used to be clad in thick leather boots, are covered in blood. No one is willing to give him anything to stand on. He was driven here by a whip, and the skin on his feet has been worn away.

His body was covered in bloodstains and bruises, he must have endured countless beatings to get here, and even some of his hair had been torn off, revealing his bleeding scalp.

Compared to his past extravagance, he was now in a worse situation than a beggar. At least a beggar wouldn't be hated and despised by everyone, nor would anyone want to slit his throat.

Moreover, even if he endures such suffering, it is still impossible for him to survive—as one of the instigators of this rebellion, he will inevitably suffer the empire's most severe punishments and only after enduring unimaginable torment will he be granted the mercy of death.

With his intelligence, he naturally anticipated this outcome. Moreover, the imposing and terrifying military camp and the murderous soldiers along the way had made him tremble with fear. At this moment, the bones in his entire leg seemed to melt, and he no longer had the strength to get up.

He knew he had lost everything. His once-proud wealth, which had enabled him to operate on the border between two countries, was now gone. As a sinner, his status was far lower than that of a beggar.

But he still didn't intend to give up his efforts to survive. Although he knew that the crimes he had committed were too serious to be punished even with ten heads, he knew that while the law was written in the open, there was always room for maneuver and possibilities behind the scenes...

"The Kurist people have already been defeated in the east; their corpses have blocked the river and covered the grasslands... But at the same time, I've discovered something interesting. Do you know what it is?..."

The tall Tersolius sat in his chair, his shadow almost completely obscuring the kneeling Iris, his eyes never shifting to the other, as if he were talking to himself.

The man's hand trembled violently, and his shoulders twisted like a snake whose head had been stepped on, but he dared not utter a single word...

"Some things are quite interesting, like this—the Khan of the Kurist can dress his guards in armor from the Imperial Arsenal... even the craftsman's name and the production date are clearly marked on it, allowing me to easily trace its origin. Don't you think that's interesting?"

The man's teeth clenched so tightly they ground together. He hadn't expected those barbarians to be so stupid! — They hadn't even bothered to destroy the crucial information on their armor… No, perhaps they did it on purpose…

"On this point, I don't think there's any need to beat around the bush with you..."

Thesolius leaned forward slightly, his long, straight eyebrows like two newly forged swords, exuding a sharpness and majesty that made one afraid to look directly at him.

"The sins you've committed are enough to warrant the medical masters of the capital library keeping you alive until you suffer unbearable pain, until you break down in your mind and become a madman, only then will you receive a merciful death. You certainly don't want to end up like that, do you?..."

“I don’t want to negotiate with you, because you have no right to tell me everything you know. If it satisfies me, I’ll just cut off your head and spare you from the torture that follows.”

The man panicked immediately: it was completely different from what he had imagined! Tersolius didn't ask him anything, but simply gave the order. He only had two options: accept or refuse. There was no room for struggle.

“Oh, right…” As if suddenly remembering something, Tersolius looked up and reminded him, “Don’t think you can escape punishment by suicide. The guards in the capital prison have plenty of ways to get you to Chegevne alive. The real hell isn’t in your scriptures, it’s there… In just one day, you’ll agree with my judgment.”

"By the way, my patience is limited... It can only last until the wick of this oil lamp gets shorter. After that, I will lose interest in getting the answer from you."

Under relentless and terrifying coercion, the once shrewd Iris merchant was nearly driven mad. His opponent wielded the most terrifying violence, enough to render any language and hypocrisy laughable... He had no choice from beginning to end.

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

The distraught merchant from Iris was led out to be beheaded, and Thesolius kept his promise. The soldier wielding the crescent-bladed axe chopped off his head as easily as splitting a melon, the whole process swift and clean, with minimal suffering.

Of course, he certainly wouldn't thank the person who gave him the order for this...

Thus, the last known culprit of this rebellion has been beheaded. Apart from the missing Kurist Khan, although the land is ravaged, it finally has a chance to recover.

After leading his legion to the vicinity of the city, he refused all those who came to invite him, and simply ordered his troops to set up camp, waiting with a menacing look in their eyes.

The nobles and officials throughout the city, or rather the entire province, knew that his arrival was ill-intentioned. Many had already realized what was about to happen—the emperor and the central government would not let this matter rest, and the governor would not be the only one to suffer.

All the nobles and officials in the province would be punished, and the empire's harsh laws would be enforced most thoroughly under such circumstances, with no one able to escape.

When chaos began to break out in the city, Tersolius finally ordered his army to take control of the city's security and led his guards to the governor's mansion.

Anyone who attempts to create chaos at this moment will be met with the most resolute repression.

Some tried to muddy the waters in their final, desperate struggle, but Tersolius was prepared. Every official who was negligent, incompetent, or voluntarily abandoned his duties was arrested, and the security and administration of the vast city were temporarily taken over by the army…

Although Alpert cannot compare to the opulent grandeur of those commercially developed and wealthy cities, it is still tall, majestic, and imposing. As the governor's residence, this granite and marble building is not only sturdy enough, but also adorned with countless exquisite sculptures and flowers to create a magnificent and grand atmosphere.