Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

But at the same time, she was also a little curious. Since it was probably too late to call him from here anyway, she might as well let Ke Qijin go and test what that thing was...

The girl made up her mind, and like everyone else, she watched with great interest.

…………

The short, mountain man slipped unnoticed into the pile of strips of cloth. He was a guy who grew up in the mountains, so it was easy for him to evade the women's gazes.

But when he finally reached inside the strip of cloth, he couldn't wait to pull one off and examine it closely, even bringing it to his nose for a good sniff...

The strip of cloth emitted a faint herbal scent, refreshing and invigorating, reminding him of the random wild vegetables he ate in the forest—it seemed to have this same aroma…

He swallowed hard, cursing himself for being so spineless... He eats meat and grains every day now, and he's still thinking about wild vegetables?!

But he couldn't help but bury his face in it again and take a deep breath. The taste seemed addictive, and his lungs felt completely refreshed afterward.

By the time he finally realized that several dark figures had surrounded him, it was too late...

The sturdy mountain women surrounded him, holding brooms and sticks...

With a scream, the thin, dark figure was chased out of the cloth strip by a large group of women. Even with her hands covering her head, she still clutched the cloth strip tightly…

A burst of laughter erupted from the entire city wall, and a girl with dark blond hair laughed the loudest...

57. The Siege (4)

A group of dejected Holstein soldiers huddled in a corner of the camp. They wore heavy chainmail and held sharp weapons, but each of them hung their heads and looked like a routed army that had just fled from the battlefield...

Torres stared grimly at the man before him. The man's undisguised rage was so intense it seemed he wanted to tear Torres apart, and his fingers even gripped the curved sword at his waist tightly…

But in the end, he didn't dare to make a move... or rather, he was the one in the most awkward position in this camp.

As the lord of Altos, Kasis lost his territory. Every noble here knew that it would be difficult to take back the city, and even if it were, the new lord would not be him... Who would allow an incompetent fellow to govern such an important place?

Not to mention the vast wealth generated by the prosperous trade of Alpert, even kings and dukes could not ignore such a lucrative prize, and were destined not to leave him even a fraction of it...

As a lord who had lost his territory, his soldiers, and even his wife and children, he was now nothing but a laughable figurehead, and no nobleman in the camp respected him.

He clearly blamed himself for the problem...

Torres had to admit that he did bear a significant responsibility. If it weren't for his request that led the other side to transfer the soldiers out of the city, Alpert would never have fallen so easily... In every respect, he had an inescapable responsibility.

But despite this, he absolutely cannot reveal his weakness; he also bears considerable responsibility... He absolutely cannot show weakness again, otherwise everything will be blamed on him...

That sturdy and majestic city, Alperth, was originally the land of the Hols, but now it flies the black double-headed eagle banner. The prey he was chasing was not prey at all, but a terrible beast. He was just a fool who dared to chase after it with a wooden spear in his hand...

Thinking of the mountains of corpses and seas of blood he had seen along the way, the bodies of those stripped of their armor and led away by their horses piled up like mountains by the roadside, their blood seeping out and staining the entire land a bloody red, and the face of every person carrying a bone-chilling despair and fear.

His men hadn't even encountered any opponents along the way, and they had already lost all courage... Every night, some people would quietly escape, and even if a few were caught and hanged, it would only make them run away even faster.

No soldier wanted to face that terrible consequence. They were terrified of their target and had no courage to confront him. Just thinking about the heads piled up in the road and the possibility of becoming one of them made everyone tremble with fear.

Upon first seeing the corpses, he knew he had failed... his soldiers could no longer maintain morale.

As pursuers, their only hope lies in the enemy's fear. But what if the enemy, instead of being afraid, turns around and tears a piece of their flesh away? ...And what if it's not just a piece of flesh, but an arm? ...

So he naturally slowed down his pursuit, especially after the reinforcements Cassius had sent for him were completely torn apart in a valley...

Thinking of Cassius's foolish son, his lips twitched, and he wanted to mock him thoroughly... but in the end, he didn't say it. Although the boy was foolish and arrogant, repeatedly ignoring his warnings and going his own way, he was devoured by the other party before even meeting up with him.

But Cassius had lost a city after all, and the other man was, after all, his cousin, so he couldn't just turn against him directly... In reality, he could only ignore the man's murderous glare, pretend he hadn't seen anything, and then huddle in a corner of the tent with his soldiers, waiting for the important figure above to summon him...

--------------------------------

This was a Holstein who could be described as extravagant. His armor was exquisite and magnificent, with intricate patterns painted in gold on each fish-scale plate. He wore a helmet that protected his cheeks and neck, and several huge red feathers were stuck on the helmet.

His iron boots had gilded spurs, and his dark red leather breeches stretched his legs taut. The edges of his chainmail were trimmed with layers of dark green lace. The wide cloak he wore was made of silk with a plush lining and embroidered with a white horse trampling the sun.

Just by looking at those boots, Torres knew they belonged to the king, the "Camus"... They were all second sons of nobles, gathered around the king to shoulder the important tasks of protection and messenger. Although their official positions were not high, they were all of noble status...

Their most striking characteristic was their extravagance, regardless of the occasion. Everything had to be the best: armor had to be crafted by the finest artisans, boots had to be made from the thick hides of marsh cattle, and cloaks had to be made from the finest silk produced in the empire. Over time, every nobleman who sent his second son to join His Majesty the King's "Camus" would spend a large sum of money to buy him his attire.

Otherwise, not only would his son lose face, but he, as the father, would also lose face in front of other nobles.

"Torris of Harrist! The military commander wants you there immediately, hurry, don't delay."

Torres nodded repeatedly, almost obsequiously... but as the other man turned away, he muttered something under his breath...

“A group of proud roosters…”

………………

Torres lowered his head to the level of the table, bending his waist to a terrifying degree, looking as if he might fall to the ground at any moment due to loss of balance. However, thanks to the martial arts skills he had accumulated over the years, he still managed to maintain the position perfectly.

Taloris frowned, opening and then tossing aside the documents on his desk one by one. The news from all over the country was terrible... The central part of the kingdom was in the midst of the annual rainy season, and the roads were slippery and muddy. The reinforcements that were supposed to arrive in three days were now at least a week away.

The large, mature timbers in the surrounding valleys had been almost entirely cut down by slaves in the city, leaving far too few to build siege weapons. To make them, they would have to be found in the more distant forests, making the journey even longer and more arduous. It was unknown how much manpower and time it would take to transport the materials here...

The surrounding cities have insufficient food reserves, and the army's food supplies are only enough to last for four days. If there is no food after four days, morale will waver... This is the most critical and fatal point.

Bad news kept coming... The nobles in the camp kept clamoring to launch an attack. These guys, blinded by glory and wealth, couldn't imagine what difficulties they would encounter when attacking a city.

He witnessed the city's construction and knew best just how formidable its defenses were... Neither the imperial forces nor their own could pose a real threat to the city.

"Lord Torres, I summoned you here because I have some questions I'd like to ask..."

"My lord, I will tell you everything I know."

“That’s good. Now tell me everything that happened after you received the mission… Alpert has been captured, and someone has to be held responsible. I need to determine if you should bear some of the responsibility.”

…………

A bitter taste filled Torres' mouth. He knew he would have to face this sooner or later, but when the moment came, he still felt fear and dread.

No one can deny the importance of Alpert. The reason why such a great cost was spent to build this city was to guard this deadly pass, and the city was taken over by Count Rutt, who made great contributions in the past.

For so many years, this city has repeatedly thwarted invaders for their country... Now, the sudden realization of this will cause a violent upheaval throughout the entire nation. Anyone who has even the slightest connection to it, or bears even the tiniest responsibility, will be utterly destroyed...

So he had to come up with a way to shift all the blame onto his son... and Cassius's stupid son was a perfect candidate...

After all, this guy has already fallen into the hands of the Empire, and he is highly suspicious... so it's good to make the most of him in his final moments.

………………

Kahis is now extremely anxious... not only for the city, but also for the things he has hidden in the inner city. No one knows about his plan, not even his wife and son... even a little bit of this information could bring him annihilation.

Over the years, thanks to the city's convenient commerce, he gradually amassed a vast collection of armor and weapons. An unspeakable ambition was constantly growing and being passed down in the hearts of each Earl of Lute, and in his generation, it reached an uncontrollable level...

His desire for that throne was threatening to consume him...

Having suffered a complete defeat in the struggle, the Lute family was driven to this borderland. Although the land was fertile, they no longer had the chance to claim the throne.

This became the long-cherished wish of the men in their family, and it was through generations of accumulation that they acquired such enormous wealth.

Seeing the empire and kingdom at war and suffering heavy losses, he thought his chance had finally arrived... but he never expected that fate would be so cruel. Because of a moment of carelessness, he lost everything overnight!

What truly terrified him was the massive armaments within the city; if even the slightest leak of information were to occur, he would never have another chance to rise again…

But if those things are not discovered, according to an ancient agreement, even if they lose this territory, the current king must find them a place to stay.

This was an agreement among all the nobles in the entire country, and no one could break it unless they decided to become enemies with all the lords...

His only hope now is that this secret in the city will not be discovered. He can tolerate losing all his wealth... He is still young and can have many children. His family will not perish... So he is now waiting for news.

………………

The dungeons in the city are hardly pleasant places. They are infested with rats and cockroaches year-round, dark, damp, filthy, and filled with a foul stench.

A healthy adult man thrown into this place will become a grotesque monster within days, driven to a complete mental breakdown by the rats and cockroaches that gnaw at his limbs, the garbage and stench that make him dizzy, and the dark, damp environment that drives him insane.

Elder never imagined he would one day be thrown into a dungeon. The appalling conditions terrified him, but fortunately, as a collaborator, he still received some preferential treatment...

After a dungeon near the window was cleaned up, he was put in and provided with enough food every day. Apart from the annoying, ubiquitous cockroaches and rats, surviving was not a problem.

But how could Elder, who had always enjoyed a life of luxury, tolerate his current treatment...?

He acted like a madman, constantly yelling and shouting at the gate, and yelling at the prisoners in the next cell, saying that he was a noble lord and that one day he would hang them all.

Then, when the noble lord goes too far, fully armored cavalry will come and beat him severely, making him quickly pull his hand back.

He had been locked in the dungeon for several days, during which time these despicable imperial people had ignored him completely... Gilni, who had tricked his way into opening the city gates with him, had already been released, but he, because he was the lord's son, was imprisoned in the dungeon...

Elder was so indignant about this that he wanted to grind his teeth to dust. He cursed his mother who died young, cursed the terrible imperial general, cursed this damned place, and even cursed his father who was always talking nonsense...

Indeed, in his eyes, his father was a madman, completely disregarding his duties as lord... The daily affairs of the entire territory were managed by that woman, while he, as the hereditary Earl of Rutt, spent his days dealing with merchants from all over the country, utterly disgracing the nobility...

The fact that no one in the dungeon spoke to him was driving Elder crazy, which is why he yelled at the prisoners and even hoped they would argue with him, at least making it less boring and unbearable.

In this agonizing boredom, he even thought that it would be better if the imperial general came to his door than if he were still in this situation, at least it would mean that he wouldn't just rot away in the dungeon.

…………

The dungeon door was suddenly flung open, letting in a blinding glare that sent screams of terror through the prisoners. A tall, dark figure, accompanied by the rhythmic clatter of armor, entered under the protection of cavalry…

58 Choices

A cheer suddenly echoed from the distant plains. Tersolius slowly climbed the city wall and gazed into the distance; this was the third day of their siege…

A brightly colored banner and gleaming armor gathered at the distant camp, signaling the arrival of Hols reinforcements.

But what truly surprised him were the three heavy catapults that had somehow appeared in the camp...

There simply aren't enough materials nearby to allow them to build three heavy catapults in such a short time... unless they receive unexpected reinforcements...

The Holsian soldiers were also surprised by these huge creatures, but after understanding the situation, their morale soared, and their cheers almost lifted their tents off the ground.

These heavy catapults had huge counterweights and long booms, enabling them to hurle massive stones hundreds of meters away, smashing even solid rock walls to pieces.

However, this kind of catapult also has extremely high quality requirements. The fact that it can launch such a huge weight means that the sturdiness of each component must be exaggerated to withstand such enormous force.

To build such a durable catapult, large beams had to be felled several years in advance and then allowed to dry in the shade for a long time.

It takes a skilled craftsman one or two months to make it, and it also needs to be oiled to prevent it from getting damp and damaged by insects...

When needed, the supply troops would disassemble the catapults into parts and transport them to the enemy city for reassembly.

But the Hols, who can't even find wood to make shoddy catapults, suddenly acquired three heavy catapults... which makes things seem very strange.

…………

With the arrival of new reinforcements and catapults, the Hols, who had previously been at their wits' end, regained their morale and began launching increasingly frequent probing attacks.

The gap between the city wall and the camp is being gradually filled in. Wooden shields are encroaching on the space step by step, and sturdy fences are being dug up and erected inside the shields.

These fences were originally intended to defend against cavalry and were rarely used in siege warfare, but now they are everywhere here, and it is obvious who they are aimed at.

But all of this still takes time. Carrying out this project under the watchful eyes of the defenders is still extremely dangerous, and soldiers are frequently hit by crossbow bolts and fall to the ground in agony.

It had become a bloody target practice game. The slave soldiers were becoming increasingly skilled at using crossbows, and the best among them could even shoot out any limbs that the enemy accidentally peeked out.

Just a few days ago, they were serfs who could only work in the fields, but now they are able to do this... It is conceivable how much real combat can hone one's skills.

Thus, the Hols' project became increasingly unsuccessful. The original plan was to build the fortifications to the city walls within two days, but now they had not even reached half of the planned goal.

Many soldiers were not killed on the spot, but were wounded after being hit by crossbow bolts. The Hols' army medics' treatment was to cauterize the wounds with hot irons or bleed the swollen areas.

Under these conditions, the mortality rate of wounded soldiers is naturally high, especially now that it is a rainy season with very humid air, which increases the probability of wound infection.

Until the fortifications were built to a suitable distance, the three heavy catapults were completely useless, and the previously high morale began to decline again.

The Hols lords also began to stir. The wealthy surrounding countryside around Alpert was like a series of unsuspecting moneybags to them. Moreover, when morale was low, allowing soldiers to plunder was a common solution.

Of course, the lord also had a share in this process...

Disappointingly, the nobleman who enthusiastically proposed the suggestion was simply thrown out, treated like a commoner. The "Camuss" whipped him, sending him fleeing in terror.

These arrogant and domineering individuals generally only obey the orders of the king or his appointed chief minister, so the attitude of the military commanders was clearly displayed to the nobles.

The nobles and soldiers, who had been so enthusiastic, were immediately dejected and disappointed... The fertile lands of the surrounding towns and villages produced a large amount of grain every year. Although most of it was taken by the lord, it was enough for them to live a relatively wealthy life.

Most of the land around the city was cultivated by slaves, but some villages on the outskirts were able to survive by paying taxes to the lord.

Every soldier longed to go to these villages and make a good harvest; the continuous rain had put them in a very bad mood, or rather, they were hoping for it to happen.

Now that this matter has been completely rejected, it has naturally caused great dissatisfaction among them, and the entire army has become somewhat restless.

Instead of suppressing the unrest, the nobles seemed to be indulging it...

Under such indulgence, the Hols camp became noisy, with every soldier loudly venting their discontent, their hissing and complaints almost reaching the city.

………………

Looking at the chaotic scene before him, Taloris couldn't help but let out a long sigh... How could he not know what these soldiers and nobles were thinking?

The country has encountered an unprecedented crisis, but their first thought is whether they can gain more benefits... They even become anxious and restless when they encounter the slightest setback.