Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

In a very short time, everyone stopped moving. They no longer wavered, nor did they allow their warhorses to disrupt the formation. Those who were flustered shut their mouths, those who were timid stopped their melancholy, and those who were irritable began to quiet down. After all, they were well-trained elites, not some farmers who went to war with pitchforks...

“My cavalry! I know what you’re worried about… and I can answer you. Yes, what you feared has indeed happened. We’ve been abandoned here by those shameless villains! What a despicable and shameless act! They’ve abandoned their comrades, handing our lives over to the enemy without reservation…”

Marcus gripped his spear tightly. He didn't know why he felt so frustrated. Perhaps he still had a sliver of hope, but it wasn't until their general spoke that his last illusion was shattered, and he truly understood his current predicament.

"We are now in dire straits, that's an undeniable fact... But!! My cavalry, tell me, even in the face of such a desperate situation, are you going to stay here and wait to die? Are you going to sit here and wait to be killed, letting those Holsmen pierce you with their spears?!"

"If anyone truly harbors such thoughts, then let me tell you, after you die here, the enemy who killed us will only clap his hands in glee. He will remain the high and mighty ruler, while we are merely a pile of corpses left on the battlefield to rot!! I do not wish for that. I do not wish to die while watching my enemy fully enjoy wealth and glory. Even if I must die, I will die in front of that bastard! I will bite off his fingers and tear his eyes apart!!"

Marcus's breathing grew heavy, bloodshot veins appeared in his eyes, and his face turned crimson. His hot breaths echoed from within his helmet, as if he had just downed a large bowl of strong liquor. From every helmet came heavy breathing, perhaps driven by anger, perhaps by hope; every cavalryman gripped his weapon.

"So take your lances, restrain your horses, and let's launch one last charge!! If you still acknowledge me as your commander, then, soldiers! Obey my orders, let's charge out together! This time, we're not fighting for anything else but our own survival, for the rights that each of us deserves, for our sacred revenge, for our loved ones! I urge you to summon your courage. I will be in the first line. If I fall in battle, do not stop your horses. Even in death, we will die on the charge!! They cannot stop us!"

Thesolius's eyes were bloodshot. He turned and gently nudged his horse, positioning it at the very front of the wedge formation. As he reached back, several spears were offered to him, but he only grabbed the one furthest from him. He then hung his iron staff at his waist and pointed the finely forged spearhead at the opposing army.

The scraping sound of armor clashing echoed, just like in countless training sessions and battles. The armored cavalry began to form their ranks. Their armor gleamed in the rain, the brass components shimmering like gold. Sharp spears stood tall like bamboo shoots after a spring rain. There was no more wavering or doubt. They would once again launch their most proficient charge, forcefully piercing through the enemy's formation.

On this hillside piled with corpses, a forest made of steel has sprung up.

"Cavalry!!...Charge!"

08 Breaking the Formation (2)

The charging distance was far too short, so short that the warhorses could cover it in just three breaths, and this distance was constantly shrinking. Like a butterfly that had been bound, they no longer had the strength to maximize their impact.

But the speed can still meet the standard... The reason Tersolius was so confident was because this was a hillside, a downward slope, and as long as they urged their warhorses to the top, they could easily reach the appropriate impact speed, like mercury flowing down the ground.

The dense clatter of iron hooves enveloped him completely. They surged down like an unstoppable torrent forged of steel, the ground trembling violently. Warhorses panted heavily, their powerful muscles contracting, carrying their riders in an unstoppable downward rush. Sharp spears were leveled, shields were raised, and chain hammers and iron clubs were in hand. Whether they succeeded or failed, they had only this one chance to charge. After that, there would be no turning back; they would be completely trapped in the enemy's ranks, fighting hand to hand.

Everyone gritted their teeth, no longer holding back their horsepower, and pushed their mounts to the limit, all for this final gamble...

——————————————————————————————————————

The infantry's formation was so tight. They wore heavy chainmail, held sharp spears upright, and their shields were stacked on top of each other, like a wall that appeared out of nowhere. But even so, they had no sense of security. Everything that had happened before told them that even such a formation could be shattered in the blink of an eye by human armored cavalry. Even if the enemy would pay some price, the scene of flying flesh and piled-up corpses would still put enormous psychological pressure on the infantry.

So no matter how much the officers urged them, not one of them was willing to quicken their pace. Everyone maintained a slow step, shrinking the distance between themselves and the enemy. Until the terrible, dense, thunderous hoofbeats came again, the entire formation began to waver. The river of steel poured down on them, and the spear in the hand of the tall knight at the front gleamed coldly, eager to drink the enemy's blood.

The soldiers in the first rank at the front planted their feet on the base of their spears, raising them upright. Heavy shields formed a shield wall in front of them, with spears protruding from the gaps, turning the phalanx into a porcupine-like formation. Their archers had been wiped out, and the few survivors were of little use. Now, they could only rely on their heavy formation and discipline to withstand the enemy charge. This was a huge challenge even for the most elite infantry, and the Hols' infantry was far from being the most elite…

With their elevated position and such a short distance, the iron cavalry charged forward in the blink of an eye, splashing mud and water everywhere with the hoofbeats. Sharp spears were only three meters away from clashing. Under this terrifying pressure, the Holsian infantry wavered once again, and this wavering was especially fatal...

Some of the Holstein infantry in the first rank even dropped their spears in panic. Their instincts overrided their reason, causing them to swarm towards any available space, trying to escape the terrifying iron cavalry. This created fatal gaps in the impenetrable forest of spears. Thasorius dodged two spears aimed at his head, then without hesitation spurred his horse into the fray. In an instant, the earth trembled! The sounds of bones breaking and spears piercing flesh filled the air. The cries of panic and wails reached their peak at that moment.

Just like every previous charge, the heavy armor easily withstood the slashing of swords and spears, and the few spears that remained couldn't stop the horses' charge. The heavy shields were trampled to the ground by the immense force of the horses, and the soldiers supporting them screamed in agony as they were trampled under countless hooves. His spear had already pierced the bodies of two infantrymen, yet his wrist remained as unmoved as if cast in steel.

The spear could no longer be pulled out, so he released it and grabbed a spear that was piercing his chest. Then, to the soldier's incredulous expression, he reached out and pulled him and the spear out of the formation.

In mid-air, the soldier was pierced through the chest by a spear thrust from behind. He continued to penetrate the formation before him with his new weapon. Dense swords and blades scraped sparks against their armor. Countless infantrymen were trampled and crushed by their horses. The dense forest of spears was like bushes growing out of the roadside, catching people off guard. A swinging chain hammer shattered skulls, and a thrusting spear tore through armor and pierced hearts. Row after row of infantrymen were easily torn apart. Countless lives were screaming under their iron hooves. Even the warhorses went mad, desperately charging forward under the cavalry's command.

What a magnificent and awe-inspiring scene! These elite warriors had long since molded themselves into warriors, and at this moment, they felt no fear or hesitation, only extreme anger and determination. They were like a pack of lions driven mad by hatred, recklessly tearing apart anything that dared to stand in their way. The cavalrymen roared and fought fiercely, charging wildly amidst the splattered blood, entrails, and brains. One after another, cavalrymen were caught off guard and stabbed off their horses, but the others continued their advance without regard for the consequences. One formation after another was quickly broken, and the casualties rapidly increased. Blood and viscous entrails had already covered the ground in a layer, and fallen warhorses and corpses were piled on top of each other. Eventually, the warhorses trampled not the ground, but the dripping flesh and blood.

All the Holsian officers were utterly shocked. They thought they were prepared, they thought they would win… but everything before them told them: why were humans allowed to occupy the rich Central Plains… why did they always lose in wars? Why did human nations possess such wealth…

………………

As his warhorse trampled the last enemy, Tersilius, or rather Xu Ning, had already lost his helmet and half of his left ear. A gruesome knife wound ran from his forehead to his right cheek, nearly slicing through his eye. His short black hair was soaked in blood, his armor was covered in marks from swords and axes, several broken spearheads were stuck in his warhorse's body, and the iron staff he held, forged from fine steel, was covered in layers of sticky blood.

But they finally broke through. No one could count how many enemy lines they had routed. The moment they emerged, everyone spurred their horses forward without hesitation. The joy of surviving the ordeal and the still barely suppressed anger made them cheer loudly and curse wildly.

The Hols could only watch as their cavalry, now reduced to half their original number, decisively defeated their infantry, who outnumbered them several times over, and rode away. The armor and weapons, no longer gleaming, vanished from their sight, leaving only the soldiers' pitiful cries echoing from the devastated breach.

The place had long since become a living hell. Broken corpses and flowing entrails covered the ground. The wounded soldiers who were still alive reached out from this bloody hell, crying and wailing loudly. Their minds and bodies had been completely broken. They begged their comrades who were still alive to drag them out of there. Some of them only had half a body left, but they still used their two hands to desperately pry at the ground, trying to get themselves out of there.

Silence descended upon the center of the army formation; all the Holsteins fell silent…

09 Villages

"How many more people are there?"

“316 adults, and some who fell behind.”

Tersolius gripped the reins tightly, and his warhorse spun restlessly in place, causing his armor to rustle. The heavy horse armor, weighing over 100 kilograms, would severely slow them down, so on his orders, all the cavalry's horse armor was gathered together and placed in a dry, cool, secluded cave deep within the dense forest.

Before leaving, they sealed the area completely with heavy stones, then covered it with layers of mud. In just a few days, no trace of the place would remain. And thus, these precious armors were preserved.

The wound on Tersolius's forehead was twitching slightly from the pain. A heavy curved sword had struck his forehead with great force. If he hadn't dodged in time, his entire head would have been split open. Now, through the gaps in the flesh, one could see that the snow-white bone was stained with blood. The skin of the wound had also turned white, and the situation looked dire.

The knife grazed his eyeball almost to the side, slicing his eyelid in two. A fraction more and he would have lost his right eye. Most of the other scars, big and small, had only grazed his skin. Only one ear had been severed in half by the spear. Only now did he have time to properly bandage his wound. Before, to stop the bleeding, he had simply torn off the hem of his clothes and pressed the blood-stained strips of cloth against the wound.

Even though the wounds on his body kept throbbing with pain, he didn't show any unusual expression. Some intense emotion overwhelmed him, making him ignore all the pain...

When they launched their attack from that hillside, there were a full 1132 armored cavalrymen, each a highly trained elite. Each of them was skilled in controlling their warhorses, and each of them possessed enough equipment to bankrupt several middle-class families. As soon as they appeared on the battlefield, the enemy's morale would suffer a devastating blow, and their comrades would be greatly encouraged and charge forward with courage.

But these noble and brave cavalrymen were abandoned worthlessly in the enemy's encirclement because of the filthy desires of some people, and suffered such heavy losses that only about 40% of them escaped... As the man to whom these cavalrymen had entrusted their lives, his rage was completely uncontrollable.

From yesterday to today, in this short period of time, it felt like he had experienced a terrible nightmare... but he adapted to it so naturally. In the quiet of the night, he also thought about it alone: ​​...what happened to him was extremely abnormal. He was like a general who had been in war for more than ten years, able to lead his cavalry to charge the enemy with ease, and even in such a desperate situation, he could bring out these cavalrymen who believed in him...

These are things that Xu Ning, an ordinary college graduate, could never have accomplished. Only the owner of the glorious black double-headed eagle banner, a general of the Golden Legion directly under the Emperor, and the Empire's first champion warrior, Tersolius Gais Jarneus, could have done them... He obtained this information after breaking out of the encirclement by subtly gathering information... He didn't know who he was now. The face reflected in the pool was clearly his own, but all the soldiers around him called him Tersolius. The respect and admiration in their eyes were genuine, especially after he, as the general, led them out of the encirclement of tens of thousands of enemy troops.

He seemed like that champion warrior, leading all the cavalry, the first to charge into the dense forest of spears, yet still surviving with only minor wounds. In just yesterday's brief engagement, over a hundred Holsteins had died at his hands. Killing a fully armed heavy infantryman was no more difficult for him than killing a chicken. He knew perfectly well how to use his spear to pierce the weak points of the enemy's armor, and he knew even more clearly how to swing his iron staff to maximize the power boost from the speed of his warhorse... as if he were a born warrior and a strongman.

His personality also underwent a subtle change. No matter how bloody and horrific the scene in front of him, it would not attract his attention as much as the stones on the roadside. He could ride his horse and trample those mutilated corpses without changing his expression, and calmly slash off the head of the other person when the entrails splattered on his face... He could perceive all of this and view his own changes with a calm attitude.

This attitude, however, also troubled and confused him. He suppressed these emotions in his heart and did not reveal them at all. He also knew clearly that a leader should never show such emotions in front of his soldiers.

…………

"Akar, the general's wound needs to be treated as soon as possible... The air here is so humid, it will fester in a few days!"

Akar finally removed his helmet, revealing his square face, just as he had imagined. A long scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his jawline. His facial features were sharp and direct, his hair was shaved very short, with only a short stubble, and his two thick eyebrows gave him an imposing presence.

The person who made the suggestion to him was Marcus, who no longer looked young, with a thick mustache and a large goatee. He appeared to be a very composed middle-aged man.

"Of course I know, but how are we supposed to find a doctor here?! Without a doctor, who would dare to treat an eye injury? Are you going to come?!"

Arka appeared extremely agitated. His right hand, the flag bearer, was tightly wrapped in white cloth, yet a glaring red glint still peeked out. As the flag bearer following the general, he naturally received more attacks, but the glorious black flag never fell once in the battle. Even now, marching through the jungle, he carefully rolled up the flag and put it into the leather tube on his back.

Marcus was completely speechless at this rhetorical question. Of course, he had no solution; he had just been worrying blindly. They were currently resting briefly in the jungle, waiting for the straggling members to catch up. This rest period wouldn't last long; their supplies were running out, and they needed to reach a known human town as soon as possible. Otherwise, these armored cavalrymen, who basically didn't hunt, would probably starve to death in this forest.

So, with no other choice, the group led their warhorses to Tersolius's side, awaiting their commander's next orders. They had already sent out scouts to explore the way ahead, and if all went well, they should be back in a little while...

The rapid sound of hooves rang out, and the cavalryman, clad only in chainmail, dismounted.

"Sir, there are no ambushes ahead, and we have discovered a village."

Everyone perked up.

"That's a Holstein village..."

………………

As the other party continued speaking, the atmosphere became tense and tense.

10 A doctor

A low, mournful scream echoed from the dilapidated house. It was a typical wooden hut common among forest dwellers, with a dry thatched roof that risked leaking during heavy rains. While adequate for daily living, it appeared exceptionally run-down; even the thatch piled on top was rotten and moldy, seemingly untouched for years.

Outside the house stood a Hols man with an anxious expression. He had started a fire on the stove and was constantly adding firewood to boil the water in the pot. A wooden basin and a blackened towel were placed next to it. The Hols man would occasionally glance back at the room, his heart aching at the low screams coming from inside. But he dared not leave without permission. At least for now, the doctor's words were enough to keep him in check.

With fuel added without regard to cost, the large pot of water quickly boiled. He used a wooden ladle to pour the boiling water into a basin, let the towel soak for a while, then added some cold water and began to wash the towel and several white bandages. He stopped washing when the water became murky, poured out the dirty water, and carefully rinsed the basin with boiling water before carrying the large basin of hot water into the room.

On the low wooden bed were their best bedding, which, though still tattered and blackened, was enough to keep them alive in the cold winter, thanks to a few hunted pelts.

His wife lay on the bed screaming, her face flushed red, her flaxen hair plastered to her cheeks with sweat, struggling violently in agony. Several experienced elderly women from the village were helping; one of them took the basin from the man's hands and continued to urge him out.

"Get out of here for Aphrodite's sake! You're getting in our way. And don't forget to boil those twoleaf clovers in the pot; we'll need them later."

Before the man was kicked out, he saw the most striking sight in the room: a voluptuous and tall figure directing everyone. She wore a simple gray dress that reached her ankles, and a leather corset accentuated her slender yet powerful waist. The originally loose fabric accentuated her full curves, and a small deerskin herb-gathering pouch hung from her ample hips. Her breathtaking curves exuded an undeniable feminine charm.

Her long, pale blue hair was tied back with a deer bone hairpin, revealing her slender, white neck. Two slender but not very sharp ears extended from her temples. In this dimly lit room, they were not very noticeable, and one might easily overlook them if not paying attention.

This woman was the village doctor, or rather, a witch doctor... and now, she was the only person in the village who could ensure her child's safe delivery, even if...

The man shook his head, dismissing his slight hesitation, and returned to the stove. He grabbed a handful of green grass leaves from the wicker basket beside him and put them into the pot. In the blink of an eye, the clear boiling water turned into a bluish-blue color, and this color continued to deepen.

Giving birth to this child was not easy, especially in this forest...

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The worst-case scenario still occurred. His wife failed to give birth until nightfall. Her once loud cries of pain had become weak and feeble, clearly indicating that she had run out of strength. The man paced anxiously outside the house, even trying to rush in several times, but was stopped by the old women.

Just as he was feeling helpless and extremely anxious, he suddenly stopped what he was doing. His long, thin ears twitched slightly, as if he had heard something… and a look of panic quickly appeared on his face. To confirm his guess, he pressed his head to the ground, and then he clearly felt the thunderous vibration…

In the blink of an eye, the tremors turned into real thunder, and the sound of hundreds of iron hooves pounding the ground began to echo throughout the village…

…………

The woman lying on the bed was already quite pale, but under the tall woman's direction, the other elderly women poured a large bowl of bluish-green liquid down her throat, which quickly improved her complexion. Then they prepared to continue what they hadn't finished: giving birth to the child.

"cavalry!!!…………"

A scream of extreme fear suddenly echoed throughout the village, followed by the loud banging of the iron pot hanging at the village entrance. The crisp, sharp sound filled the small village, and then more panicked shouts and cries rang out, instantly turning the quiet village into a bustling hubbub.

But just as the clanging of the iron pots continued, a thunderous, storm-like sound engulfed the entire village. A large number of ferocious warhorses began to surround the small village. Their hard hooves trampled swathes of grass into the soil, leaving deep marks on the ground. In this terrifying storm-like sound, everyone panicked like blades of grass in the air. The women dropped what they were carrying and ran out of their doors.

Only the pregnant woman, who was still unable to move, and the doctor remained in the room; no one else, including the pregnant woman's husband, appeared...

The pregnant woman was terrified and even started talking nonsense. Her face was covered in sweat and tears. She even tried to get out of bed, but her body was so weak and in excruciating pain that she couldn't move.

"Lie down."

A slender yet strong hand pressed against her chest, guiding her back to her bed. The doctor continued his work calmly, showing no intention of running away.

"Follow my instructions and keep pushing. Our only chance of survival now is for you to give birth to the baby and then we can run together... Hurry up."

Because she had been giving instructions all afternoon, the woman's voice was slightly hoarse, but it carried a reassuring power that put the pregnant woman at ease. With a painful scream, perhaps the crisis had unleashed her potential, and the baby, which had been motionless all afternoon, was born smoothly from the birth canal this time.

Unsettlingly, the baby remained motionless and showed no sign of crying, causing the mother to panic and cry out. The doctor, however, remained calm. His slender, white fingers moved with surprising dexterity and strength as he swiftly severed the umbilical cord with a small, gleaming scalpel. He then grabbed the infant by the feet, lifted him upside down, and gave him a few light slaps on the bottom. Several red marks quickly appeared on the pale skin, soaked in amniotic fluid, and some cloudy fluid flowed from the baby's nostrils. After a few coughs, a loud cry immediately filled the room.

The mother used a large towel to cleanly and neatly dry the baby's body, and then placed him in her arms. The baby, who had been crying incessantly, immediately quieted down upon feeling the familiar scent and curled up his entire body as if desperately trying to stay still.

The new mother was still weak, but they dared not delay any longer. Just as the doctor was about to help his patient up, a sound of metal scraping against metal suddenly came from the side.

The doctor stiffly turned his head towards the doorway, revealing his young, fair, and delicate face. A tall man, clad entirely in heavy armor and bearing a jagged scar on his face, had been standing there watching them for a long time. Several heavily armored cavalrymen stood silently behind him, their weapons gleaming with a blinding cold light…

11. Take a short rest

The moonlight shone on her smooth scales, reflecting a delicate, fragmented light, like sunlight peeking through leaves. It was light and ethereal, but unlike sunlight, it didn't bring warmth. Instead, it sent chills down her spine, a coldness spreading from her spine throughout her entire body.

These exquisitely crafted steel objects were designed to take lives from the moment they were created, especially in this chaotic world. Anyone could tell that these terrifying soldiers were up to no good, especially the leader, whose horrifying stench of blood almost made her faint. A gruesome wound on his face revealed the bone beneath.

The sound of the armor rubbing against each other sent shivers down one's spine. The woman in labor beside her could barely stand. Her already weak body, coupled with such a horrific scene, had caused her to faint. She held her child tightly in her arms, showing no intention of letting go even in unconsciousness.

The newborn baby, feeling discomfort from the mother's sudden increase in pressure, cried loudly, disregarding the surroundings. The child's loud, piercing cry instantly shattered the tense atmosphere. The cavalrymen exchanged glances, and the man at the front spoke first:

"Let this mother who has just given birth go back to bed. We won't hurt you... Besides, if I really wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't be able to escape."

The doctor silently helped the woman back to bed, and after calming the crying baby, he looked uneasily at the man who had already sat down on a stool.

"Sir...may I ask what brings you here?"

The girl carefully chose her words, not wanting to anger this terrifying soldier. An almost instinctive intuition made her realize that this man had killed countless people. People like him valued life very little and were willing to take lives at any time, so she had to be extra careful.

"Oh, I heard that you are the only doctor in this village, so I would like to ask you to take a look at my wound."

The man leaned casually against the wall. The so-called chair beneath him was just a piece of dried-up log. The silvery moonlight from the window illuminated his face.

The most striking feature of his sleek and strong face was his pair of eyes, which resembled those of a hawk circling in the clouds. The corners of his eyes were slightly upturned, yet they were extremely bright, exuding a captivating power and aura. Below his straight nose were thin lips, and his beard was neatly shaved, revealing a clean-shaven chin with strong lines.

Her short black hair was combed back, revealing a broad forehead, and her long, thick, sword-like eyebrows slanted upwards, occasionally twitching slightly due to the pain in her forehead.

Overall, this soldier, who looked like a ruthless killer, was surprisingly good-looking, perfectly fitting the Empire's aesthetic standards. The doctor, who had been to an Imperial city before, knew the Empire's views well, and the man in front of him looked almost exactly like that template, even a little too good-looking.

The only thing marring his appearance was the horrific wound. A cut ran across most of his face, from his forehead down to his cheekbone, even severing his eyelid in two, making one wonder how he ever slept. Moreover, the wound's condition was clearly not optimistic; although it had stopped bleeding, it had a chilling, deathly white hue, and the bone beneath was clearly visible.

Such a terrible wound would be enough to render a strong, middle-aged man unable to move due to the intense pain, but the soldier in front of him remained unfazed. Although his forehead twitched from time to time, his face remained calm and composed, as if he had only been bitten by a mosquito.

"What? Is there any hope for me?"

The man's voice carried a hint of laughter, seemingly quite relaxed. But the doctor keenly heard the sound of the fully armed cavalrymen tightening their grip on their weapons. Their menacing aura almost made the doctor drop everything and turn to flee. One of the tallest men even glared at her menacingly.

It seemed that as soon as she agreed with the man's judgment, these soldiers would immediately do something terrible. Fear made her tongue tremble, and she couldn't speak for a long time.

"Alright, you guys, don't scare the doctor. Go outside and wait for me... Don't worry, I believe this doctor won't do anything irrational. She seems like a smart person."

She immediately breathed a sigh of relief; the terrifying pressure, carrying the scent of blood, vanished in an instant.

Without the slightest hesitation, the soldiers immediately withdrew from the room and closed the door. Only after the clanging of armor had completely subsided did the man turn his head to look at her and continue speaking:

"Doctor, please tell me your name. You can't be nameless, right?"