Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The author has compiled this information.

The author struggled quite a bit during this period... (ε??) It always took a considerable amount of time, but not much was written, and the author ended up feeling dizzy and overwhelmed... Later, the author realized that the information in the book had become quite complex without them realizing it, and it was no longer as easy to work with as it was at the beginning, and the author had not yet done a systematic organization and planning...

So the author is going to take a good rest today and organize the remaining plot properly, otherwise, constantly experiencing writer's block is really frustrating, and I can't keep staying up all night... That's about it (||?_?)

465. A difference of a fraction (3)

The rough bark doesn't feel pleasant to the touch. These cracked parts have lost most of their moisture, becoming inelastic and rough like stones. If someone were reckless enough to rub their hand on it, they would get more than just a little pain; they would often be rewarded with broken skin and scratches.

These are scars left by time, formed by the cracks and attachments of the parts that died during the growth process. It also means that there is tough wood under this bark. Young trunks with smooth bark are often not very useful and will not even be given a second glance by craftsmen. Only those woodcutters who are eager for quick success will favor them.

Such large trees are destined to be lush and leafy, enough to block out large areas of sunlight. Even the sharpest-eyed eagle cannot penetrate their barrier. Once they form a forest, they can be enough to hide an army in them, turning the place into a dangerous trap.

A large army was advancing on the road, their armor rubbing together with a fine rustling sound, the shields on their backs clashing against the armor plates, the tips of their spears swaying like seedlings in the wind, forming a dangerous forest of spears, swords, hammers, axes slapping against their thighs, and their sturdy leather boots pounding the ground like the beating of war drums.

They were marching in armor... which meant the area was a threat to them and needed to be guarded against. Even the archers in the ranks had their bows and crossbows strung, ready to fire at any moment and fulfill their duties.

Any commander with a sound mind would send out a large number of scouts when the army passes through such dense jungles to thoroughly explore the surrounding terrain. After all, the army is bound to be very long on such roads, and if it is ambushed, even if it manages to turn the tide, it will inevitably suffer heavy losses. The scouts responsible for reconnaissance bear an unimaginable responsibility—it is not only a matter of their own lives, but also of the safety of the entire army. If they are not careful, the annihilation of the whole army is not out of the question.

Standing on a nearby hilltop, Bosdo wiped the sweat from his brow, reached out and took the water bag handed to him by his comrade, drank half of it in one gulp, and then relaxed. He took off his helmet and used the large leaves of a nearby plant to fan himself.

He was glad that he hadn't forgotten everything he had learned in the past. The horse assigned to him wasn't the best, but it was strong and stamina-rich enough, and not very tall, which allowed him to easily navigate through narrow and cluttered places. He searched the entire forest, and even managed to shoot down a wolf that had fled in panic along with his comrades.

He was quite certain that he had done a good enough job... After so many years, taking on such an important task again had made his heart pound for a long time, but once he actually went into the forest to explore the places where he could hide, he relaxed and quickly realized that he was doing something familiar.

Those places that novices easily overlook or neglect are as conspicuous to him as torches in the dark. He also knows very well how to hide and protect himself when the situation is unclear, and how to escape cunningly and calmly if he is discovered by the other party. These experiences are difficult to pass on verbally, and those who have not experienced them firsthand cannot truly understand the details.

It was precisely because of his skillful and superb scout skills that Bosdor was able to lead a scout squad as soon as he joined the legion... Although most of them were clever men selected from the greenhorns, it was the first time in his life that he was not taking orders from others, but giving orders to others.

He was initially somewhat apprehensive, but the salary, which was half again as high as that of an ordinary scout, quickly dispelled his concerns. Not to mention that becoming a captain would give him more opportunities to earn merit, so he had no reason to refuse.

Just like when he served in the legion, his goal has always been very clear, and he will continue to work towards that goal without being easily distracted.

"...Damn it! What did this beast eat? Its stomach stinks so badly."

A curse came from the side. He turned around and saw a tall, thin middle-aged man, who looked like a standing piece of dry wood, cursing as he skinned a wolf with a dagger. At this moment, because he used too much force, the sharp blade cut open the wolf's belly and internal organs, and the contents were already flowing out along the cut.

His name was Sother, and he was the second person in the squad, besides Bosdor himself, to have military service experience. Just over a month ago, he was a shoemaker who made a living repairing shoes for others. He didn't have a fixed shop and lived a very hard life. The reason he had fallen to such a state was not worthy of any sympathy at all—after receiving the resettlement allowance provided to retired veterans, he spent one-fifth of it on brothels and gambled away the rest in casinos within just a few months.

Having no relatives and no intention of marrying anyone, he only knew how to enjoy life. If he hadn't had a little money left to buy a set of tools for self-reliance, he probably would have starved to death in that corner long ago.

"You're right, the smell is indeed too strong."

A pungent, sour stench immediately began to torment his nose, aggressively probing his olfactory nerves, while the yellowish-green paste was completely unrecognizable, making one wonder if it was really a carnivorous wolf.

Only then did he have time to carefully observe this unexpected gain, and then he quickly found the reason:

"This wolf's fur is dull, its teeth are falling out, and it's an old wolf that's about to die. After being abandoned by its pack, it can't catch any prey at all. It can probably only find some random bits of rotten flesh and weeds to fill its stomach, and it might even have eaten excrement..."

Upon hearing this, Sother, who was busy skinning the wolf, trembled violently. He quickly sped up and peeled off the entire wolf pelt. As for the remaining wolf meat, he completely ignored the contaminated parts and only took the four legs.

"I almost got it on my hand just now, luckily I dodged it quickly. But I need to wash this knife... I was hoping to use it to cut meat tonight."

"Old wolf meat isn't very tasty, it's dry and tough... but it is definitely better than jerky."

The two of them stood together and chatted casually, while the others sat in the woods behind them to rest... They had been running through mountains and valleys for three whole days, and everyone was quite exhausted. They had all learned, without any instruction, to seize every opportunity to rest.

"...Speaking of which, have you noticed?"

He rolled up the blood-soaked wolf pelt and tied it around his waist. Sother suddenly narrowed his eyes and asked him a serious question, which Bosdor answered without hesitation:

"I saw it. The horse manure is still relatively fresh and it's densely distributed. It should be a reconnaissance team like ours. At most, no more than three days have passed, which means we're not far from the rebels... Everyone be careful these next two days. We might run into them at any time. Whether we live or die then will depend on how clever we are."

The second half of the sentence was addressed to everyone, and he kept his face very tense as he said it... Those newcomers who hadn't truly experienced it didn't understand, but he knew exactly how brutal and bloody the battles between scouts were. They were the eyes of the army, and also the tentacles that probed each other, always touching each other and drawing blood.

Just like a person who doesn't look where they're going will definitely fall hard, and might even break their teeth or smash their head, thus dying... Their duties are so important and so dangerous that they cannot afford to be negligent in the slightest.

These eight inexperienced young men were lucky to survive half of the war. Most people would only pay the price for their mistakes with their lives, thus becoming more ruthless, calm and composed, and eventually becoming veterans like him.

He was even somewhat afraid of that time coming... or rather, he had always been somewhat afraid. In the past, he was the most cautious in the legion, seeking neither merit nor demerit, and never actively vying for any opportunity to fight and earn merit... But now, he could no longer be as composed as before, and he was no longer young.

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

Small red flowers bloom among the inconspicuous grass blades by the roadside. Each flower hangs like a bell on a stem that is only a few strands thick, swaying in the breeze and shaking off the dew.

This unassuming scene is generally hard to notice. In the shadows of the forest, in the grass by the roadside, countless plants, some even unrecorded, are growing. To ordinary people, they are neither important nor worth their attention. Only those with knowledge understand the true value of these little things.

Carefully inserting a small shovel made of soft yet sturdy willow wood next to the plant, precisely controlling the distance to avoid damaging the roots, and then lifting it upwards, the entire clump of damp soil along with the plant was pulled out. Grabbing the strongest leaf, the soil on it was gently shaken off onto a nearby stone, and a whole, intact plant was obtained.

Next, the plant must not get wet again. It needs to be carefully wrapped in birch bark and then hung in a well-ventilated, dry place to air dry. Finally, it should be bundled with straw into a bunch of four, which will fulfill its intended purpose.

The most difficult part of the entire harvesting and processing process is the brightest red flowers. The flowers themselves are not important, but the calyx and pedicel must not be damaged in the slightest, otherwise their value will be greatly reduced. In fact, some merchants who specialize in buying this kind of medicinal material will value and grade it based on the damage to the calyx and pedicel.

"This is *Hibiscus syriacus*, which is quite useful for fractures. It can also relieve fatigue, soothe the mind, and help with sleep... It is said to have the effect of prolonging life, but there is no conclusive evidence to prove it. But I think if it were true, they would probably have been dug up long ago."

Thesolius reached out and took the unremarkable little plant, examining its smooth, spindle-shaped leaves, its stem covered in fine hairs, and its slender, moth-like flower stalks, with bell-shaped red flowers swaying constantly with his movements.

"Huh?! ...Is it fake?!"

Before he could say anything, Colin beside him showed an extremely surprised expression, and not just ordinary surprise, but a sense of sudden realization that a truth he had taken for granted since childhood had been overturned.

“Everyone in my area believes in this! They even believe that the most effective ones are those that birds carry to the trees and thrive in tree holes and crevices. My dad told me with absolute certainty that an old man lived to be 110 years old by drinking this…”

"It's definitely fake. If it really worked, long-lived people wouldn't be so rare, and this kind of medicine wouldn't be so expensive. Truly wealthy people would never hesitate to spend money on it."

Tersolius clenched his fist into a knife and slammed it down on Colin's head, causing his unruly, bouncy, golden short hair to bend downwards with the movement, splashing a few drops of morning dew that had been standing on it.

This was less of a reprimand and more of a joke, and more of a way to get the attention of others and draw their focus to this place.

Tersolius carefully handed the intact little thing over again, while Talina had already prepared a small bag made of birch bark to store and dry it.

"...That's certainly true. Although this saying is popular in our area, I've never seen anyone live a long life because of drinking it. People who are destined to die still die, and they die even earlier than the elderly in the plains because of the lack of clothing and medicine. Many who could be saved can only be watched die..."

Colin scratched her head, looking somewhat lost, and quickly accepted the fact... or rather, she had been somewhat skeptical to begin with, and now she was completely certain... after all, many things cannot be completely concealed by wishful thinking.

"It's just a medicinal herb. It does have effects on many symptoms, but it's broad but not precise. Generally, it's used in combination with other medications. If used alone, its only truly effective effect is sleep aid."

Tarina wiped the dirt off her small shovel on a nearby tree trunk, then used her feet to bury the excavated soil and stones back in. Only then did she lift her skirt slightly and walk briskly out of the damp grass.

466. A difference of a fraction (4)

This was a high hillside, a flat and beautiful meadow with no weeds or shrubs. Flowers of various colors grew among it, nestled between two groves of trees. Below the hillside lay the imperial provincial highway, where rolling torrents of iron steeds kicked up dust as they passed.

The sun in the sky had not yet reached its most scorching and unbearable moment, and the soldiers still had some time before setting up camp to rest. Meanwhile, the scouts sent out were conducting a thorough search. This land, which should have been the safest in the central province of the empire, was being searched more carefully and cautiously than any barbarian land.

Thesolius stood on the hillside with several girls, watching his army march steadily into the distance. The cavalrymen relayed orders back and forth along the column, with saddlebags transporting goods in the middle of the road while soldiers walked on both sides. Everything was orderly and undisturbed, displaying a seasoned and experienced demeanor.

This is not the capital garrison regiment that has been established for a hundred years. The flags fluttering in the hands of the regimental commanders are topped with ferocious wolf heads. Although there are many veterans in this regiment, there are also many new recruits who have never served. Although they have received a lot of training, it is difficult for them to be as orderly and error-free as they are now.

The reason is quite simple—partly because of Tersolius's experienced command and coordination as a veteran general, and partly because of the familiar figures among them who were in charge of command... These were all elite guards who had returned from the south with him and survived countless battles. Each of them had been in the army for many years, and the word "elite" was not even enough to describe their discipline and experience. Under their influence, even the worst of them could easily do the job of a centurion.

It can be said that as long as they are around, there is a ready-made officer structure. As long as the troops are complete and the weapons are in order, Tersolius can raise an army at any time and put it into the war in a short period of time.

They had been away from the imperial capital for about two days, but Tersolius did not order the legion to march hastily. Instead, they advanced steadily at a normal marching pace, doing everything flawlessly and without revealing any loopholes.

This was partly because their legion had already left the capital, so the roads were no longer threatened by being blocked, and partly because he already had a general idea in mind, so he wouldn't act rashly and expose his weaknesses... And now, based on the traces discovered by the scouts in the army, he was indeed right.

"According to the plan, we should be able to rest in Dasos today. According to the intelligence gathered by our scouts, we are no more than a hundred miles away from the main force of the rebels, and at most no more than Pelifel."

As always, Talina had finished preparing military affairs early and was now standing beside him reporting. He listened while gazing thoughtfully at the distant mountains—the central province of the empire was mostly plains with few undulating terrains… but not none at all, like the Broken Neck Mountain right in front of him.

It's a rather simple and straightforward name, which easily evokes images of historical anecdotes... In fact, the mountain is called this because a nobleman once went hunting here and accidentally fell off a cliff, breaking his neck. Because this story was so widely circulated, the mountain's original name was forgotten, and later people called it the Mountain with the Broken Neck.

As the name suggests, this area is different from the surrounding endless plains. It has many hills, cliffs and slopes, making the terrain quite complex. It is also the only dangerous terrain within a radius of hundreds of miles.

Intelligence is still being gathered, and the true state of the empire will gradually become clear. But at least for now, according to the worst-case scenario, large areas in the north could become breeding grounds for rebels. He needs to eliminate the threats to the emperor and the capital first before he can free up his hands to deal with other places.

Thinking of this, he felt genuinely fortunate... Fortunately, these guys underestimated the speed at which he conquered the south. Otherwise, if a rebellion had suddenly broken out while he was probing and stalemate with the Assele army, he would probably have had to consider abandoning some of the conquered lands to return home and quell the rebellion, instead of being able to calmly deal with the situation according to the original plan as he is now.

Although the current situation still seems obscure and extremely dangerous, he is well aware that the rebels are at a disadvantage—they have neither succeeded in assassinating the emperor and placing the remnants of the previous dynasty on the throne, nor have they completely purged the dissidents in the Senate, allowing the current imperial center to function effectively, nor have they managed to exclude him from this rebellion, giving his massive army a chance to return…

To be precise, in his view, the rebels had made almost no effective progress. Their opportunities were scarce, and they had few choices left. It seemed that they were forcing themselves to go out of the city and fight in the open, but wasn't it also the general trend that was forcing them to fight to the death? Otherwise, once the empire mobilized the forces belonging to this vast country, these rebels would be completely trapped in the worst possible situation.

Of course, he did not neglect the city's defenses... Before he left, the capital had already begun to re-enlist legions, with a large number of young men and men of good age with training and service experience being conscripted. They would serve as the capital's defense force during this period—relying on the capital's formidable cliffs, even they would be enough to give the elite army a hard time. The Imperial Guards in the palace would be responsible for forming the backbone of this legion, and Ingersoll was the newly appointed commander of the capital legion.

All of this was proceeding according to their pre-arranged plan... The best outcome, of course, would be to change the entire country without bloodshed and concentrate power in their hands, but neither Tersolius nor the emperor would naively believe that things would develop as they envisioned, so they naturally took countermeasures.

In fact, their contingency plans included far worse scenarios... In the worst-case scenario, the entire Senate, representing all the nobles, would betray them, and the flames of rebellion would spread across vast swathes of the empire. The legions controlled by the nobles would also extend the fighting to the empire's important cities. Even neighboring enemies would seize the opportunity to plunder, plunging the entire country into internal and external troubles.

If it really comes to that, the intensity of the war would be unimaginable; the entire empire could be reduced to ashes, and their original vision would be completely destroyed.

Now, he must resolve things quickly before they worsen... even if it means killing countless people, even if it means letting rivers of blood flow... because if he fails to stop the evil flames from growing and burning, the number of people who die will be hundreds or thousands of times greater, and this country and this land will be plunged into suffering and war forever.

"Because of the special circumstances surrounding this army's departure, our supplies are not sufficient. In the past, according to custom, legions would receive supplies in Turquoise before setting out, but we are unsure whether the city is still safe. However, we have already sent messengers, and we believe we will have results soon..."

Talina's report concluded, but the iron torrent before them was far from over. Various intelligence reports continued to arrive, and the sound of galloping horses, like a constant, urgent drizzle, never ceased. Meanwhile, Tersolius reached out and gently tapped a tree trunk, then turned and walked down the hillside, the rustling of his armor plates echoing in the breeze.

"It's time to set off. Let's go take a look at the town to the west."

467. A difference of a fraction (5)

A semi-dried tree stump, with a hard knot growing in the middle, is now suspended between two tree trunks and secured with four hemp ropes to form a sturdy and durable target. Under the cover of leaves, it sways slightly, a result of the flexibility of the ropes.

There are four hand axes in total, each no longer than the sum of the forearm and the palm of the hand. The sturdy handles are made of hickory wood, while the axe heads are forged from fine steel. They are thick and narrow, just like a sturdy chisel. The weight is just right, neither cumbersome nor lacking, yet providing enough inertia to achieve the desired power.

Carila tossed the short axe in her hand, gazing thoughtfully at the target before her. The dangerous, sharp steel danced nimbly between her fingers, yet never caused any harm. Her long, scarred fingers gleamed with refined lines as she exerted force, much like a longbow gradually tightening and accumulating power.

Her breathing remained unchanged throughout, as calm as a falling leaf. But the next moment, accompanied by a scream as if the air was being torn apart, the axe in her hand slammed heavily into the thick tree stump target. The end of the axe was even trembling like an arrow. A crack was torn in the target, but it was very light and thin, far from splitting the tree stump.

With a gentle toss of the hand upwards, the axe rotated mid-air, then the hand was raised, the shoulder lowered, and the elbow swung—

when! ! !

With a crisp metallic clang, an axe spun and plunged into the grass beside it, while the axe that was originally embedded in the stake was knocked in even further by the back of the axe, and the crack widened at the same time.

Dang Dang! !

Without the slightest deviation, the remaining two axes struck the same spot precisely, driving the axes deeper and deeper. The wood fibers were gradually stretched and cracked, to the point where they were visible to the naked eye from several steps away. But in the end, it did not completely break apart; the knot in the center of the stump stubbornly supported the integrity of the structure.

Karila stopped what he was doing, his handsome face showing a slight upturn of long, slender eyebrows. He looked down, glancing left and right, before finally picking up a fist-sized, flat, round stone from beside his feet. He held the stone by its thicker end and, like skipping a stone on water, leaned his entire body backward, raising his right arm high like a taut longbow. In the next moment, he took a heavy step forward with his right leg, and the stone in his hand shot out like an arrow, carrying a terrifying impact.

Thump! Snap! Thump...

The first sound was the heavy impact of the stone against the back of the axe; the second was the crisp crack of the wooden stake splitting open; the third was the sound of the stake, now broken in two, hitting the tree trunk. The axe, which had been deeply embedded in the stake, fell onto the grass below. The stone that delivered the final blow shattered into several pieces and disappeared back into the grass.

Seemingly satisfied with her outcome, Karila remained in the motion of throwing the stone for a while before straightening up, gently clapping her hands, and preparing to retrieve her axe.

"You threw it very accurately; this is the first time I've seen you use this."

Not surprised by the sudden sound, Carila calmly picked up her four hand axes and inserted them one by one into the buckles on her belt before turning to look at Tersolius, who was leaning against a tree trunk behind her.

Because of the double-layered full-body heavy armor, the commotion caused by the other party's arrival was not small, so she was never able to hide it from him. Or rather, Tersolius never intended to conceal his whereabouts and walked here openly and frankly.

"What I did was nothing compared to what I did back home. The best axe thrower in my hometown was my dad. He could use his axe to cut the mooring lines of enemy longships, bringing their sails down so we could catch up more easily. He could even rip hair off someone's head... He used this trick to scare prisoners of war several times. Generally, by the third time he threw the axe, even the toughest guy would have to speak up."

“A remarkable skill.”

Tersolius sincerely remarked that he did not believe Karila was a boastful person; the old man who frequently appeared in her words must be an extraordinary warrior from the North.

This goes beyond simply aiming and hitting anywhere; if he wanted, he could throw his axe into the gaps in the enemy's armor. With just this skill, he would hardly encounter any opponents in the small-scale tribal wars of the north, and could basically take down several people on the other side in a single encounter.

Moreover, these throwing axes are powerful and heavy. Even if they don't pierce through armor, the impact is enough to hinder the opponent's movements. They should also be quite effective against shields. The thick and sturdy axe can easily destroy the opponent's defenses.

"So you feel you're not yet proficient enough in this area, which is why you don't use it on the battlefield?"

Tersolius walked over and extended his hand, and Carila, without hesitation, drew her axe from her waist and handed it to him, knowing his intentions from the beginning.

"No, I just didn't think of it at the time, and I was also a bit too lazy to bother. After that big battle, I asked the army craftsmen to make these axes for me, and so far they haven't been used."

Tersolius squinted at the tree trunk in front of him—it was a sturdy beech, as thick as an adult's waist, which could already be called timber, but from a dozen paces away it looked only as thick as a chopstick.

He began adjusting his movements according to the Imperial Legion's javelin throwing technique, but the instant the axe left his hand, he realized he was going to miss... The center of gravity of a javelin and an axe were too different, and even though they were both thrown weapons, their trajectories and postures in the air were quite different. So he could only watch helplessly as the flying axe grazed the left side of the tree trunk and continued to spin, finally landing with a clang on a large rock in the forest.

Stone chips flew everywhere, and even sparks flew. He immediately walked over and picked up the axe with a guilty conscience... Fortunately, after inspection, the thick and sturdy steel axe was not damaged in the impact. Instead, the stone was dented.

This scene was so rare that even Karila couldn't help but smile and let out a soft laugh. Her voice wasn't particularly clear, but it had a unique heroic quality in its hoarseness. A gentle breeze blew by, and a strand of her golden hair that wasn't tied up at her temple fluttered in the breeze. A blush appeared on her face, which was as white as snow.

"I'll try a few more times; I've figured out some of the patterns now."

As if to conceal something, Tersolius reached out and took the remaining three axes, then began to toss them in his hands, getting used to their shape and weight, feeling the unique feel of these throwing weapons—unlike javelins, axes spin when they fly, and the weight distributed on one side ensures that the steel part always hits the target first, cutting in hard with its hardness and inertia.

The feel is quite subtle, like wielding a large stick that is thick at one end and thin at the other. It doesn't require particularly skillful technique to use, but it does require sufficient strength and body control.

To put it simply, get your eyes, arms, and body working together, and then try it a few times to get the perfect timing and feel.

So he began to try throwing the axe a second time.

The next moment, Karila's eyes widened in surprise—looking at the axe that was straight and deeply cut into the tree trunk, precisely in the center, halfway in, requiring considerable effort to pull it out... and this was only the man's second attempt.

"Good luck."

Tersolius whistled, then tossed the axe handle in his hand, raised his hand and threw it again, this time hitting directly below the first one. Then he threw it again, this time directly above it. The three axes were perfectly aligned in a straight line, looking neat and without any mistakes.