Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

Thus, the highland fortress, built at the cost of countless gold coins and 10 years of time, completely fell. The entire process took less time than a skilled cook could prepare a lunch.

A wry smile appeared on the face of the wizard captured in the northern mountains. The screams from the fire grew weaker and weaker, but each one was still jarring to him. Finally, he sighed.

"I am willing to serve you, sir, but there is no need for credit... To be honest, I did not expect your methods to be so... efficient."

Natamus, mounted on his warhorse, stood a few dozen meters away from the fire. He turned to look at the sorcerer, whose face was filled with bitterness. His hardened expression softened, and a smile appeared on his face.

"Hehe, I know you're not your average charlatan, otherwise you'd be showering me with compliments right now... To be honest, you seem overly kind and empathetic compared to your peers."

"Perhaps, perhaps that's why I'll never make as much money as some of them... But I still have some doubts, esteemed general."

“You can ask me questions, but only for a short time.” Natamus waved his hand, signaling the guards beside him to tie up the count and send him to the back. He didn’t even look at the man once, completely ignoring the man’s urgent and pleading eyes. “At least we have a lot to do tonight. We have very little time to rest or waste.”

"Ah... I hope you can forgive my offense. What I want to ask is why you ordered this castle to be set on fire? It is strategically located, controlling the transportation routes of several nearby territories, and its walls and towers are very sturdy. But now it has been burned down to more than half of its original size. The remaining ruins certainly won't serve their original purpose. Wouldn't it be more valuable to occupy this place?" The wizard's eyes gleamed with a strange light, and his cleanly shaved lips pursed slightly.

“You’re right about that. This castle is indeed valuable… but compared to our purpose, that value is negligible.”

Natamus looked up at the distant starry sky:

"Do you know where my legion's greatest advantage lies compared to the armies of the Western nations?"

"Discipline and organization—in that respect, they are far apart. There are differences in other areas as well, but not to this extent." The wizard had clearly considered this, so his answer was without hesitation.

"...You see things very clearly, but that's not quite accurate for the present moment. Our biggest advantage right now is that the enemy is in the open while we are in the dark. We have the initiative and the first move, while my enemy is completely unaware of it."

"War always requires preparation and mobilization, no matter where it takes place. Soldiers need to be gathered to repair their weapons and armor, receive rations and train, roads need to be planned and repaired, food needs to be stored and transported, and laborers and conscripts need to be mobilized from the fields... In short, there needs to be a reaction process, whether it's offense or defense. And now, our preparations are already complete, while they are completely unprepared. Therefore, we must seize the opportunity to crush their manpower, occupy their cities, and destroy their castles as quickly as possible. Before their army can truly react, I will have already achieved my goal."

"Try to guess what our army has accomplished by the time their king receives news of the attack here. How much land will the legion's iron hooves trample? What consequences will their main force's move to the east have? This is our greatest advantage, like stabbing the enemy in the heart before they can react. From then on, the tide will be turned, and we can proceed with ease. At that time, I will naturally adopt a more prudent tactic, but for now, I will not allow any castle to slow down the legion."

416 The Crucial Strike (2)

How long does it take for a region to fall? The answer here is a week... In just one week, the southern border of the Kingdom of Salanod was completely destroyed. The imperial legions rampaged through the land, blasting one noble castle after another into pieces, burying the bodies of those nobles who refused to surrender in the earth and stones.

Caught completely off guard and unprepared, the lords' armies were utterly powerless against this swift offensive. Often, just as a territory received news of its neighbor's destruction, the imperial legions would appear on their horizon, unleashing new devastation upon them once more.

With the help of numerous transport vehicles and livestock, the iron torrent advanced rapidly, crushing everything in its path. Imperial banners spread across the land like flames, banners fluttered like a forest, and iron hooves rolled on. Leading this wave of destruction were tens of thousands of Imperial light cavalrymen who had been recalled from the south.

This was a decision made by Tersolius shortly after the war ended. Apart from leaving about 1000 cavalrymen as a precaution, he sent an entire legion of light cavalry to the north to support his brother's campaign. As it turned out, this arrangement was just right. It was precisely because he had a large cavalry force that Nathamus dared to use such fierce, sharp and aggressive tactics to spread the flames of war across this land in a short period of time.

King Jottheroh of Salanod had transferred most of his army to the east a few months earlier, believing he could seize a crucial opportunity to plunder vast territories, people, and wealth for his country. But now, he had been stabbed in the back without even realizing it.

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

The city's steel gates and drawbridges were retracted in time, saving everyone's lives.

Panting heavily, Ferdinand removed the jar helmet from his head. The cotton cap underneath was soaked with sweat, and the longbow in his hand had become sticky, filthy from the cold sweat and dust mingling with his palms.

The once bustling market outside the city walls was now a mess. Overturned stalls and vegetables trampled underfoot were everywhere. The usually muddy roads were now a chaotic mess. The city gates were crowded with panicked civilians and merchants, their voices surging in like a horde of wasps, assaulting his eardrums and making it impossible for him to hear anything.

Some things don't need to be tested; you just need to see them to understand what they mean… just like what he saw now—cavalrymen, draped in red cloaks, their silver armor and helmets gleaming, galloping and weaving around the city's left and right flanks. The tips of their lances flashed coldly, and the arrows in their quivers spread out on their saddles like peacock tail feathers. Their banners were also a dazzling red, decorated with brass emblems and golden tassels. The horses beneath them were strong and powerful, with excellent stamina. Even after a long run, they showed no signs of fatigue.

Just moments ago, before the city gates were even lowered and while the soldiers were still quite relaxed, they appeared at the end of the road like a burning flame, surging towards the city with terrifying aggression, attempting to rush onto the drawbridge and through the gates before they were lowered, and to enter the city directly.

He dared not think about what would happen if the cavalry actually succeeded. He only knew that it was definitely not what he wanted to see. At least now there were still city walls to block the enemy. Once this last barrier was lost, the hundreds of defenders in the city would be completely overwhelmed and crushed by the enemy in the blink of an eye.

Not everyone managed to escape into the city; they could only flee from the left and right, crying and screaming, trying to stay away from the direction the cavalry had come from. These imperial soldiers, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, had no interest in hunting down civilians. They calmly opened gaps for them to escape, but would mercilessly kill anyone who held a weapon and tried to resist.

He knew these men couldn't attack the city, but he still couldn't help feeling fear... After all, they were supposed to be soldiers guarding the city, but they usually only dealt with those tax-refusing, rebellious peasants. They had never faced such elite troops before! Let alone actually fighting, just standing on the city wall and watching the enemy maneuver around the city in orderly ranks sent chills down their spines.

Perhaps it was because they saw through the weakness and absurdity of the city's garrison that the Imperial cavalry dared to send their own warhorses to fire arrows at the city walls from very close range, while the sparse counterattacks from the walls posed little threat to them.

He held a longbow in his hand, but he no longer had the strength to draw it. Whenever the cavalry approached, he would panic and frantically draw his bow, but before long he would not only run out of arrows but also exhaust his strength. Most of the other archers beside him were in the same boat, being lured by the enemy and wasting their arrows and energy.

Now, he didn't even dare to stick his head out of the battlements. One of his companions had just vividly demonstrated the consequences of doing so—whether it was an elite archer aiming or sheer luck, an arrow shot from below the city wall pierced through the wide brim of his helmet and went straight into his eye socket. He was now lying on the side, barely breathing, and his body was about to grow cold.

He definitely didn't want things to turn out this way; in fact, he's already thinking of running away...

Ferdian has been doing this job for 12 years. 12 years in the army has not made him strong and brave. He has only picked up a slippery habit and a cunning and greedy character. What he thinks about most every day is how to get some benefits for himself and how to intimidate the peasants who come to the city and squeeze a few copper coins out of them.

He absolutely did not want to stand here. After all, the few dollars he earned each month were not enough for him to fight those ruthless imperial people. Finding a way to get out of this terrible situation was his top priority.

So, after the soreness in his shoulders and the numbness in his arms subsided, his eyes began to dart around as he began to devise an escape plan.

The soldiers on the city wall were still in chaos, and the officer in charge of leading them should still be rushing to the scene. Only a few captains were there trying to organize and direct the situation. The scene was chaotic, which was a good opportunity to escape. To be honest, he was starting to suspect that some people had already slipped away. After all, everyone's mind was in a mess and no one could remember to count the number of people.

And so, he silently leaned his longbow against the city wall, lowered the brim of his helmet, and quietly spotted a gap. He prepared to slip past the soldiers and walk down the side of the city wall. As he walked down, he could throw away his helmet and take off his armor, getting rid of these burdens that would limit his escape speed.

Of course, a weapon for self-defense is essential. He doesn't think the city will be as peaceful as usual. If he accidentally knocks something over and then throws away the short sword at his waist, he'll be a fat sheep to be slaughtered.

He had only taken two steps when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He immediately stopped, his whole body stiffened, and he silently shrank back.

The reason was simple—a man wearing a green robe and red narrow-legged trousers hurried up the stairs. His intricately woven chainmail reached down to his mid-thighs, and the longsword at his waist had beautifully carved weights. The thick beard beneath his chainmail-protected helmet was trembling with tension.

This was a garrison officer in the city, and because of his hesitation, he had missed the best opportunity to escape. He had run right into the officer and had no choice but to retreat. Otherwise, if he had escaped in front of the officer, he would have been killed with a sword and would have had no recourse.

Fortunately, the other side didn't notice him at all, and after reaching the city wall, they hurriedly headed to the right. The sound of their fine, thick leather boots echoed on the stone bricks, and a strong smell of alcohol wafted over as they passed.

Ugh... this is just incredibly unlucky.

He rolled his eyes, cursing his bad luck—for some reason, this guy wasn't completely drunk today and was still lucid, so he was able to arrive in time, ruining his escape plan as soon as it was born.

Now, he had no other choice. The team leaders present had already begun counting heads, and he couldn't run now; he had to find another opportunity. Before that, he was certain that nothing good was coming his way…

417 Abdomen and back (1)

With a whoosh, an arrow whizzed past the city wall's bricks, grazing his face. The cold steel brushed against his skin, raising goosebumps. He shuddered and quickly pulled back, no longer daring to stick his head out.

A layer of cold sweat had completely matted his hair together, running down his cheeks to his chin. He had tightly bound the helmet on his head to ensure that this life-saving device wouldn't suddenly fall off.

He used to find the helmet too bulky and prone to bumping and knocking when passing through certain places, but now he was sincerely grateful to the blacksmith who forged it for not cutting corners and forging each piece of iron to be very thick and sturdy, so that the arrows could bounce off his head and prevent some terrible "decorations" from growing on his head.

In fact, his helmet was the most reliable part of his body. Underneath his green robe with red patches, he only wore a cotton military uniform, which offered very little protection and was barely enough to deal with the arrows shot by those troublemakers in the forest.

The thunderous sound of horses' hooves outside, mixed with the stench of livestock and horse manure, accompanied the dust kicked up by flags and iron hooves that flowed and roared around the city. There were no declarations, no threats, not even mockery or curses.

The cavalrymen simply circled the city, occasionally firing their arrows, sometimes even five or six of them shooting at the same target at the same time. They calmly and relentlessly eroded the morale of the defenders, constantly intimidating and threatening them. The constant deaths made these already untrained and poorly trained city defenders even more reluctant to peek out.

If the garrison here were a team of elite archers who, under the command of their officers, maintained strict discipline and fired calmly, they would absolutely not dare to approach the city so closely... After all, the enemy standing on the city wall could look down from above, calmly draw their powerful bows and crossbows, and with both cover and range, they could easily inflict casualties on them.

But now, there are no such formidable elite troops in this city, only some disorganized and demoralized city guards. So they can bully the other side with impunity, and even swagger to stop their horses and use precise shots to kill those brave souls who dare to peek out.

However, even though they suppressed the defenders, preventing them from raising their heads, they still couldn't directly capture the city, at least not until the defenders made up their minds to begin scaling the walls… It was precisely because they understood this that the demoralized city defenders never collapsed, because they believed that although the enemy had harassed them relentlessly, they would eventually have to retreat. They couldn't possibly conquer a fortified city with light cavalry!

But for Ferdiant, even knowing that these Imperials couldn't possibly storm the city, he still didn't want to stay there any longer... After all, just because the city wouldn't fall didn't mean he wouldn't die. Who knew what would happen if he stayed here any longer?! He wasn't going to take any risks for that. Right now! Right now! He had to find a way to escape.

And so, his eyes darted left and right like a mouse's, the cunning and fear hidden beneath the brim of his helmet, but now they were gradually replaced by anxiety. An ominous premonition lingered, like a fly with a putrid stench buzzing around his head.

That ominous premonition made him panic, like a blade pressed against his back. He did feel that he had found a way to escape, but he was clueless because of the organized order here... If he turned around and sneaked away now, even if it was just to prevent the rest of them from collapsing, the officer leading them would definitely be the first to knock him to the ground and cut off his head.

With so many eyes watching this spot, he couldn't find any blind spots, nor could he see any opportunity... Perhaps staying here cautiously was a better choice than foolishly and recklessly turning and running away?

No! — No, I must leave here!

A sudden, inexplicable panic jolted him, causing him to immediately reject his previous idea and grit his teeth as he continued searching for a way to escape.

"You two, drag this body away! And hurry up."

He abruptly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned his head. He saw an unfortunate man who had just been shot in the face being dragged off the city wall by two soldiers. The blood flowing out drew a rough red line on the ground, a horrifying sight that made the lips of those around him tremble, realizing that they might end up like that if they weren't careful.

But Ferdiant was caught in a blissful realization; he finally knew how to slip away!

A panicked shout came from the side, and several more arrows flew past the city wall. This time, however, he was not as timid as before. He looked left and right, gritted his teeth, and suddenly stuck his head out... And without realizing it, his right hand had already picked up an arrow that the other party had dropped from the ground.

Sure enough, the moment he poked his head out, several arrows shot out from below the city wall, but they were all blocked by his helmet, which he had lowered in anticipation. At that moment, his right hand moved to his neck, and with a determined bite, he plunged the arrowhead into the thick muscle below his collarbone, where his shoulder and neck met.

Blood gushed out instantly, staining his robes red, and he immediately let out a loud scream, falling backward onto the city wall. He deliberately made the arrow stand proudly before everyone like some kind of military merit pillar, while his head was covered in cold sweat, screaming and convulsing loudly.

This horrific sight immediately drew everyone's attention, but he was barely moving, only letting out intermittent screams, tears and snot streaming down his face, making him look utterly wretched.

Keeping such a guy here would definitely affect morale, so just as he had expected, their officer waved his hand impatiently, and two more soldiers immediately came up, grabbed his shoulders, and dragged him backward, preparing to pull him down from the city wall as well.

He almost couldn't help but laugh, but he bit his tongue and held it in... If he laughed now, he would be really doomed.

The arrow pierced only half a finger's width deep, leaving at most a scar, which wouldn't cause any serious harm. Moreover, the spot he chose was one of those places that looked like a serious injury at first glance, but in reality, it wouldn't bleed much—a thick fleshy area with few blood vessels. Right now, he looks like he can't even crawl, but later he'll be able to walk briskly without any problems.

The best part is that because of the clothes, no one else can see how deep the arrow is, only he knows... and that is the best way for him to escape from the city wall.

Of course, a truly seriously injured person cannot keep screaming energetically. That's why after screaming twice at the beginning, he immediately became weak and powerless, his breathing became rapid, his forehead was sweating, and he couldn't even use his legs. This forced the two people supporting him to curse and grab the railing next to them for support.

And so his energetic performance continued until he was thrown into a shack at the foot of the city wall, where there were already more than a dozen corpses, all unfortunate souls like the one before him, but he was the only one still breathing.

After several breaths, when he heard the footsteps truly fade into the distance, he suddenly scrambled to his feet, reached out and pulled the arrow from his chest, then removed the helmet that had saved his life several times. He dragged a corpse of similar size from the side, put the helmet on his head to cover his face, and then tore off his cloak before crawling out from behind the shack.

"Haha, you guys can fight to the death here. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure nothing good is going to happen here. I'm going to run for my life..."

He hurried forward, sweating profusely, a smile occasionally playing on his lips. He tried to avoid crowded areas, moving along the edges of the city walls and the corners between houses, before crawling out through a dog hole where smuggled goods were sold—he had previously received bribes from that group and needed to cover for them, so he knew exactly where the place was.

He definitely couldn't stay in this city anymore; he needed to find a safe place... That's it! There was a forest to the east of the city that hadn't been completely cleared out yet. He could sneak in from there, hide in a small shed in the forest, which was very secluded. He could scout out the situation there before making any plans.

His boots stomped on the ground of the ditch, splashing mud as he walked forward excitedly. But after a moment of blurred vision, he crashed into hard steel and a thick chest. The force of the impact pushed him backward, and his nose was hit hard without warning, causing tears to well up in his eyes and stream down his face.

"Damn it! You blind fool, you!—"

Suddenly struck like that, he was initially furious, but after uttering a curse, he became like a duck being choked. His voice became thin and weak, his face turned as pale as paper, and he froze completely.

What comes into view is a tightly woven steel scale, each piece polished to a gleaming shine, covering the broad and sturdy chest down to the knees. Strong and beautiful leather straps bind the iron armor made of scales, and the inner chainmail precisely fits to protect the joints. Plates draped from the shoulders to the elbows are secured to the chainmail with leather straps.

Moving your gaze upwards, you can see the pointed helmet with four brass reinforcing beams, which, along with the chainmail neck guard, firmly protects the entire head and neck, leaving only the eyes and mouth exposed. The blood-red horsetail is gathered at the top of the helmet with brass and hangs down behind.

The other party seemed surprised to bump into him here, but reacted in an instant. A flash of cold light appeared, and the heavy battle axe was already coming down on his head.

In that instant, the hairs on his body stood on end, and he instinctively drew the short sword from his waist to block it... This wasn't the stupidest thing he had ever done, but at this moment it was the most deadly.

Bang! Smack!

The thin dagger was easily deflected by the battle axe, and the force of that instant made his wrist go numb, realizing what he had just done—he had actually tried to meet the opponent's armor-piercing battle axe with a one-handed dagger, not to create distance, not to turn and run, but to instinctively take the hit head-on!

But it was too late for him to think anything at that moment, because the shield in the opponent's left hand had already smashed down on his head. The iron-clad corner was as heavy as a warhammer. With a bang, it broke his nose, causing his eyes to roll back and him to collapse to the ground, half of his face buried in the muddy water.

The centurion, who had quietly climbed up the eastern city wall, easily overthrew the uninvited guest. He waved his hand behind him, and immediately the sound of clashing armor came from the shadows. More than a hundred heavily armored legionary soldiers were silently waiting for orders.

"The first group goes to open the city gates, the second group follows me to the city walls to clean up! Hurry up! If anyone resists, kill them without mercy!"

The armored soldiers roared their orders and, led by their captain, advanced swiftly along the city's roads. By the time the defenders on the northern city wall, drawn to the scene, discovered the situation, it was already too late…

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

After an unknown amount of time, the excruciating pain in his cheek finally roused Ferdian from his unconsciousness. When he managed to utter a muffled groan and barely open his eyes, the burst of pain immediately turned his groan into a scream.

His left cheek was in excruciating pain, as if it were being burned by flames and bitten by a venomous snake. Just as he instinctively reached out to touch it, he was startled – like an overripe, bulging pumpkin, the left side of his face was so swollen that it bulged out, and he couldn't even open his eyes.

"Don't move around. This guy's lucky. I'll bleed him a little and he'll be fine..."

An old voice sounded from the side, followed by a dark figure approaching. However, because his vision was too narrow and blurry, he couldn't see who it was, and he didn't even have the strength to struggle... He was exhausted just moving his hands and feet.

"Your bones are fine. The person who knocked you down showed mercy; otherwise, that shield could have smashed your head. The swelling should subside within a month. Now we need to drain the excess blood, otherwise you'll go blind."

The cold steel touched his cheek and, before he could react, deftly and cleanly cut a gash. Then, something hot and burning ran down his cheek... Strangely enough, this new pain actually made him feel a little relieved, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

418 Abdomen and back (2)

The blade cutting through the skin would normally bring pain and a terrible sense of invasion, which would be difficult for anyone to get used to. But now he felt a sense of relief. As the dark blood flowed down his face, he was finally able to open his eyes temporarily.

"...Damn it, I never thought my cleverness would backfire—"

He couldn't contain his urge to say those words, and his mind quickly grasped his predicament... Undoubtedly, his supposedly brilliant strategy had landed him in a trap, and he was so unlucky as to run into the Imperial army that had secretly infiltrated the city, where he was knocked to the ground in two blows.

He had thought he had done a good job, that as long as he sneaked away from the city wall, he would have plenty of chances to survive. But he never expected to run headfirst into the hands of the Empire. Before, he was wondering why those cavalrymen, who were clearly unable to attack the city, would stay there. Now he realized that they were simply trying to attract the attention of the defenders so that other attacking forces could enter through the weak points.

When he finally managed to get himself up from the ground, he immediately realized that he was in a prison cell in the city, surrounded by his old acquaintances—city guards stripped of their armor and weapons.

His expression immediately became even more unpleasant, to the point of gritting his teeth.

If he had stayed on the city wall, he could have surrendered with the others—judging from their appearance, they hadn't suffered any hardship at all, not even a single wound on their bodies. On the contrary, he had secretly slipped away and gotten a good beating, almost losing his life there, and had to face their strange gazes, which felt like needles pricking his face.

He was certainly thick-skinned enough, otherwise he wouldn't have done it, but at this moment he still felt a little hot... After all, there is a big difference between sneaking away and being caught after sneaking away. In the former case, since he wasn't there, they could curse him all they wanted without getting hurt, but in the latter case... he even worried for a moment that he might get beaten up.

"...Thanks, old man. By the way, why are you also locked up here?"

He then recognized the old man who had treated his wounds and bled him out—an old man from the nearby market who made a living selling dried herbs. He was wrapped in a strange black robe, but this attire made many people think he might have some skills, and they were more willing to buy herbs from him.

But no matter what, such an old man shouldn't be locked up with a group of soldiers, especially since he's the only civilian there. They shouldn't be divided like this.

The old man, when asked the question, gave a wry laugh. His head was bald except for a ring of hair around the edges. His skin was dark and shiny, with many wrinkles, making him look like an old farmer. His smile at that moment added a touch of simple honesty.

"It's my own fault for being stupid. I thought this place was doomed and ran around aimlessly, which resulted in me running into the Imperial army and being captured. I don't know why I was assigned here. Maybe they didn't have enough cells..."

"Oh—" He nodded. That was indeed very possible. After all, his cell was crammed with over 50 people, filling every corner completely. He couldn't even stretch his legs out and had to curl up in a corner. Because of this, he wasn't too worried about the others beating him up... After all, how could he freely hit someone else when he couldn't even move?

Moreover, as things continue to unfold and everyone else accepts reality, he won't need to worry about it anymore. After all, he's already lost, and the city has been taken by others. What's the point of arguing about who ran first and who ran last?

The blood flowing down his face had become thick, like thin syrup, which was unpleasant. He rolled his sleeve down for a moment, then wiped his face hard.