Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

"Go back and tend your fields! Peace will soon be restored here; we must survive."

The old man nodded slowly, and the surviving villagers gathered at the village entrance, watching the cavalrymen in their bright red cloaks depart until they disappeared on the horizon.

………………

The legion's soldiers marched across the vast land in neat formations. They had set up their battle array to meet the enemy, and their gleaming armor stretched as far as the eye could see, making them an impenetrable steel wall that swept across the land.

The Kurist people around them, who were still hesitating, began to flee in panic. Anyone who was even slightly slow would be covered by a barrage of arrows, slaughtered by the scattered light cavalry, and become corpses lying dead by the roadside.

Just like using a fine-toothed comb to brush through your hair, dandruff and mites will be driven out in the process, cleaning up the scraggly surface.

No plans or strategies are needed; simply by relying on the legion's overwhelming strength to sweep across the land openly and honestly, the enemies ravaging this land will flee in panic.

The legion's infantry formed the most solid foundation of the army, marching unstoppably toward victory in a magnificent formation. Their dense footsteps formed angry thunder, raging and echoing under the clear sky and amidst the billowing dust.

Bright armor and sharp spears clustered together, forming a steel jungle. Archers and crossbowmen, clad in chainmail and helmets, were protected by infantry, holding powerful bows and crossbows, ready to unleash a deadly rain of arrows at any moment.

Among them, a group of imposing figures, each wielding a longbow, stood out. Their marching formation was always slightly distorted, but each of them possessed an undisguised ferocity, like a bloodthirsty beast grinding its teeth in the jungle, cautious yet unrestrained.

The most eye-catching figure among them was a short woman named Colin, wearing an exquisite helmet, who drew her longbow. Because of her height and arm span, she was a little shorter than her subordinates, but relying on the girl's superhuman strength, she was still able to shoot powerful heavy arrows.

As the three fingers loosened slightly, a large arrow, as thick as a little finger, flew out. A Kurist who was fleeing in the distance fell off his horse. Only then did the sound of the bowstring vibrating reach the ears of those around him.

The surrounding mountain people cheered in unison, applauding their warriors, and the soldiers of the Imperial Legion also struck their shields with their swords, letting out a tacit cheer.

Seemingly encouraged, the hard bows were drawn one after another, and heavy arrows as thick as fingers flew out in succession, shooting down a small squad of Kurist raiders driven over by light cavalry. Only two out of ten heavy arrows missed their mark.

Such a superb skill naturally drew thunderous cheers. All the soldiers cheered as if they had seen a star in an arena, and many even whistled. It was as if they were not fighting, but participating in a large-scale hunt. Everyone cheered for the outstanding warrior.

That's not a problem—these wandering Kurist raiders, as long as they don't form a large force, are no more difficult to deal with than wild beasts in the jungle. Coupled with the elite light cavalry surrounding and capturing them, they pose no threat whatsoever.

Thesolius was drawn by the cheers around him, but even from his high horse, his view was too good to see what was happening in the crowd. When the news reached him, he smiled and his fingers unconsciously touched the large bow beside him.

Drawing a longbow on horseback is very difficult. Such a powerful longbow is generally only suitable for use while standing on the ground. There are fewer muscles available to draw a bow on horseback, making it difficult to draw a strong bow. Moreover, the excessively long bow arm will collide with the warhorse's body.

But this is not something he cannot overcome.

Unfortunately, the Kurists weren't fools; those who could run had already gone far away, and no foolish enemy dared to come within range. So he could only regretfully let go of the bow handle.

Despite his limited forces, he had no intention of dividing his troops... Tesorus was well aware of the tactics that the powerful nomadic tribes on the steppe were good at. Facing them, failing to protect one's supply lines, rashly advancing, or carelessly dispersing one's forces would all be fatal.

All he has to do now is reclaim the empire's lands, eliminate the rebels and enemies, and bring these lands back under his control. Of course, at the same time, plans against the Kurist are also underway.

During this process, he must not disturb the dangerous wolf pack until he is absolutely certain of victory.

"Legion soldiers, advance! We will reach Dakeryat today!"

A wave of cheers surged forth, and several military formations advanced irresistibly. Even the crows in the wilderness began to flee in panic, leaving the area where armor gleamed in the sun and the sounds of battle shook the heavens.

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

This is a stunning tent. Whether it's the snow-white felt, the heavy and magnificent golden dome inlaid with rubies, turquoise, and sapphire, or the two acres of land it occupies, it is enough to attract anyone's attention.

The most eye-catching feature is the flagpole at the top of the tent—a slender black flagpole with a heavy gold ring every arm's length, arranged all the way to the sharp trident at the top.

A decoration resembling an umbrella, adorned with slender tassels, swayed gently in the breeze. The white tassels fluttered like the mane of a warhorse. A long black banner with a two-meter-long tassel was embroidered with a peculiar pattern set against the swirling clouds—four spears crossed and twisted, forming a harmonious and regular shape.

This was the location of the Kuristian royal tent and the seat of Torid Khan. All tribes, large and small, were ordered to rush to the location of the royal tent, join the Khan's army, and plunder their western neighbors.

This time was no exception. Tents of all sizes stretched out into the distance across the vast grasslands before the hills, and countless Kurist people gathered here, forming more than a dozen markets of varying sizes.

Large herds of cattle and sheep were kept in simple fences, looking frail and weak, but not a single sheep managed to escape.

The Kurist people, returning from their raids, were haggling with the owners of the cattle and sheep, exchanging the gold and silver they had plundered for more tangible wealth, and using the gleaming gold, silver, and copper coins to buy more cattle and sheep for their tribe.

Many raiders were only wearing dirty fur robes; not everyone had the money to get themselves a suit of armor, even the simplest hard leather lamellar armor.

Besides that, there was only a bow, a spear, and a short weapon... Many people rode the most ordinary, inferior horses, which were not even as fast as mules.

They were the largest part of the army, so poor that all they had left was a tent and a flock of sheep, or even no sheep at all, and they were hoping to seize enough wealth from the Khan this time.

Aside from these ordinary nomads, those who could afford to equip themselves with armor, even iron armor, were the true elite of the army. Most of them wore a suit of hard leather armor inlaid with iron plates, while nobles of a few tribes could wear chainmail or lamellar armor. They all had helmets to protect their heads, decorated with white horsehair plumes.

The most outstanding and valiant warriors among them would become the Khan's guards, qualified to be equipped with the finest armor, wear sturdy helmets with iron masks, use the best spears and bows, and serve as protectors before the sacred royal tent.

Cobriello entered the imposing royal tent under the watchful eyes of these warriors...

He was an Aerysian, and a very typical one at that, dressed in a magnificent silk robe, with sturdy boots embroidered with gold thread on his feet, a bowl-shaped black cashmere hat on his head, and glittering gold and silver rings on all ten fingers, inlaid with dazzling gemstones of various colors.

He could sense the greed in the eyes of these guards... almost everyone would look him up and down, wondering how much wealth they could get after stripping him naked.

But they ultimately wouldn't make a move... so Coborino just smiled, lifted the tent flap, and went inside.

These Kurist people are always as greedy and ruthless as hungry wolves, and doing business with them always carries considerable risk—of course, it also offers enormous profits that other businesses cannot match… He was well aware of this, and every year he would smuggle large quantities of steel, salt, cloth… and even armor to the Kurist people.

This is a serious crime explicitly prohibited by imperial law. Once discovered, one will suffer unimaginable torture, including having their tendons and skin peeled off, flesh and bones cut off, and dying in agony... Even in death, they will not find peace, as their body fat will be used to light lamps. It is arguably the most undignified and terrifying way to die.

But he is able to do this business because he has his own advantages. So far, no jailer in black with a copper mask has come to him, and he has always made a fortune.

A pale-faced, smooth-skinned young man without a beard stopped him, claiming that the Khan was talking with the tribe's nobles and had no time to see him for the time being.

While the other party's attitude wasn't exactly arrogant, it clearly carried a sense of superiority.

This did not anger him. Coborino, still wearing a gentle smile, expressed his understanding and extended a black money bag into the other man's arms...

The effect was immediate; the pale and thin man immediately offered to inform the Khan so that he could wait a little longer.

As the other person turned to leave and lifted the curtain, the friendly smile on his face instantly turned into a sinister and disdainful expression. The speed and magnitude of the change were so great that it was almost as if a completely different person was standing there.

"A castrated piece of trash..."

The few words were squeezed out from between his teeth, but they didn't travel a meter before disappearing with the wind. Only he himself heard them from beginning to end.

………………

It was definitely worth the money.

Before long, a group of short, stocky tribal nobles dressed in armor filed out. Some of them would chat with him as they passed by, mostly about the business they had done with him in previous years.

After they had all left, the same eunuch came before him again and announced that the Khan could see him.

Coborino lifted curtain after curtain, stepped onto the soft carpet, and finally met the Khan of the Curist.

Surrounded by carpets and curtains, a tall, middle-aged man was deep in thought with his eyes closed. The slight trembling of his shiny black goatee made him aware that the other person was muttering something.

Apart from that, the man had nothing else remarkable about him—even his thin, rugged face was rough and dark, no different from those of ordinary, impoverished herders. His eyebrows were thin and soft, curving downwards, as if he were born with a troubled expression.

Even their hair, like that of ordinary Curists, is shaved off at the top, leaving a braid around the edges, which reflects a sticky, oily sheen—the grease left from eating mutton.

But when he heard footsteps and slowly opened his eyes, his ordinary face immediately became radiant! His sharp, long eyes carried an irresistible majesty, like a fierce alpha wolf that had opened its eyes, having weathered many storms and killed countless opponents, now calmly awaiting a new challenge.

At that moment, his magnificent armor, with its finely detailed and gleaming plates, became even more dazzling, enough to convince any visitor without hesitation that he was the Khan of the Kurist.

Coborino bowed slowly and respectfully.

The Khan of the Kurist nodded, nonchalantly sat down on his throne, sighed softly, then narrowed his eyes and scratched his beard.

"Don't worry about these formalities anymore, Coborino. You're an old friend of ours. No one would be hypocritical enough to accuse you of this. We're not those proud imperial people."

His rough fingers screeched his chin, tearing his beard, which was half a palm long, into a mess, with several hairs falling out. He only put his hands down after he had his fill of scratching.

"It is my honor, Your Majesty the Khan..."

"Just say what you have to say. No need to beat around the bush. I don't have the time to listen to your nonsense."

Despite being interrupted once again, the Iris remained unfazed and naturally continued speaking:

"Your Majesty the Khan, I have come here to discuss with you the issue of the Imperial Legion entering this province... Perhaps we are too optimistic."

122 The Rebellion of Cerison (7)

"If you've come here just to tell me that an elite legion of the Empire has entered the province... then that's just empty talk. I knew that earlier than you, unless you have other information."

The Khan of the Curists did not appear strong or tall, nor did he have a particularly imposing appearance. His legs were even slightly deformed from years of riding horses. Yet, Coborino dared not underestimate him in the slightest.

Unlike his compatriots, he did not consider himself the most intelligent race. He knew very well that there were many intelligent people in other races, so he would not show any foolishness.

Especially this unassuming Kurist man in front of him; those who dare to underestimate him generally die quickly.

"Your Majesty, you may not know this, but the general leading this legion is no ordinary imperial general... and this legion is no ordinary legion either. Our initial assessment was too optimistic; this time, we're in serious trouble..."

“I have never underestimated the Imperials.”

The rugged, dark-skinned Khan of the Kurist people stroked his beard, looking languid, like a shepherd lying under a tree watching over his flock.

"So I have made ample preparations and am very clear about the opponents I may face... You have no other choice but to succeed or fail."

“This country will no longer accept you. Unless you Iris people obtain this land, you are destined to suffer annihilation. The best outcome will be that you will be expelled and continue to wander.”

“I won’t give someone a second chance after being betrayed, and I believe the emperor of the empire would be no exception. After all, a vicious dog that bites can never be a sheepdog again... especially since it’s going to eat its own sheep…”

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

As he stepped out of the tent, despite trying to restrain himself, he couldn't help but let out a long sigh...

Coborino straightened up and watched as the elite guards blew their horns, letting the desolate and distant sound travel on.

Soldiers immediately took turns relaying the rallying cry to every corner. Thousands of horns were sounded, and the Kurist camp was instantly thrown into turmoil.

The Khan had already gathered enough troops, and he had no intention of delaying. He immediately urged the army to set off.

The nobles of various tribes began to gather their warriors and join the army beside the royal tent. The order to prepare food had already been given. Countless sheep had their throats cut open, the scarce grains were carefully processed, and the milk in the wooden barrels was boiled and fermented. Various kinds of dried meat, cheese, and fried rice were packed into bags and then hung on the saddles of the tribe's warriors.

Leather straps, whips, flints, strips of cloth, whetstones, belt hooks... all sorts of things were packed and loaded onto the horse's back. The warhorse's hooves were carefully inspected. The army's blacksmiths were highly respected. They heated red-hot, bent iron bars and used nails to fix these sturdy horseshoes to the horses.

The tents were carefully packed up and set up on the wagons. The cattle and sheep were driven away from their pens by the shepherd's whip, and set off again, bewildered yet obedient.

The sound of thirty thousand warhorses trampling the earth was like rolling thunder. The Kurists on horseback, following the command of their tribal chiefs, assembled into a massive army amidst horns and shouts.

The Khan's tent was carefully packed away, and the wool felt filled five large carts. The flagpole that had originally supported the tent was now held in the hand of a guard, and the tassels and pennants of the flag were constantly moving and fluttering in the air.

The Khan of the Kurist wore a sturdy helmet inlaid with gold and jade. The golden plume was particularly eye-catching, like a cluster of moving golden light, enough to make the surrounding tribes see his presence.

Elite guards surrounded him loyally, with horn bows lined with birch bark hanging at their sides, dozens of feathered arrows in quivers hanging behind them, heavy copper lamellar vests over thick knee-length chainmail, and grease-coated visors reflecting a lustrous sheen on their helmets with chainmail neck guards. Even their warhorses were clad in armor woven from hard leather.

Such equipment, even in the Empire where the armor rate is frighteningly high, is enough to be considered comprehensive protection. This is all accumulated little by little over the years. These elite guards can be called his most valuable assets, totaling only more than 300 people.

The only drawback was that their warhorses couldn't maintain high speeds while bearing such weight—no matter how daring the Iris were, or how much they loved gold, they couldn't possibly acquire the Empire's finest horses…

Shaking his head slightly to stop his wandering thoughts, the Khan, who looked just like an ordinary herdsman, waved his hand slightly. As the bugles sounded and the flags waved, the army of more than 3 people gathered here officially began to move—and their target was the south of the province…

In an instant, billowing yellow dust blotted out the sky and dimmed the sun's rays; where the horses' hooves rolled, only a mess remained.

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

Thesolius sat expressionlessly on a high chair. His white lion fur cloak had become too hot in the past few days, so he had placed it on the chair, which added to his imposing presence.

The presence of the surrounding soldiers, with their fierce and menacing guards, caused the so-called envoy to lose the courage to stand up, and he crawled over on his knees.

Tersolius didn't even glance at the enormous chest beside him, even though it was filled with precious luxury items such as gold jewelry and gemstones, enough to be priceless... as if it were filled with stones.

"You actually want to negotiate with me..."

The cold voice echoed within the tent, accompanied by the sound of rubbing armor, which cut into the envoy's ears like a blade, causing him to bury his head in the ground, afraid to raise it.

"It is a terrible oversight that you cowardly and foolish sinners are still breathing. Your cruelty is only directed at the weak, and your intelligence is only used for betrayal and plunder... Once faced with irresistible violence, you immediately buckle at the knees, hoping that others will forgive you and turn a blind eye to the evil deeds you have committed!"

"How utterly shameless, greedy, foolish, and cowardly you must be to do such a laughable thing! Now that you have committed heinous crimes in the city of the Empire, you still expect me to spare you with your blood-stained gold... Your naivety even makes me laugh."

The other's shout, metallic and forceful, crushed one's will like a storm. The Iris man, kneeling on the ground, desperately tried to stop his trembling teeth; his will to survive compelled him to utter a single sentence with almost all his might:

"But Your Excellency, Imperial General! Your legions will certainly suffer losses if you attempt to capture this city!..."

He didn't say anything more. Suddenly, Alka kicked him, breaking two of his front teeth in his mouth. Then he grabbed Alka's collar and lifted the man, whose mouth was full of blood.

Tersolius had already stood up, stepped out of the tent, and surveyed his surroundings. He noticed that the legionary soldiers were already prepared; the siege equipment they carried with them had been assembled by the craftsmen and was ready for use.

"Losses? With your laughable army?... Then open your eyes and see clearly—whose land is this anyway!"

Hundreds of buglers sounded their horns at the same time, and a dozen drums beat simultaneously. The moment the order to advance was given, the sea of ​​steel began to boil.

The catapults operated by the craftsmen began to unleash their power, hurling projectiles laden with oil or gravel at the distant city walls, causing the dark figures gathered there to scream in agony. In no time, the entire city wall was cleared, and not a single Iris dared to peek out.

The Imperial Legion's formation began to approach the city walls. Elite archers used their powerful bows and crossbows to suppress any reckless enemies. Legion soldiers carrying long ladders placed them on the city walls, and the iron hooks instantly gripped the bricks and stones.

The infantrymen raised their shields and swiftly scaled the walls. Archers rained down arrows on the rioters who tried to stop them, and in the blink of an eye, a silver torrent of steel surged onto the walls and began to clear the way.

Until the city walls fell, the legion didn't even have time to beat the marching drums a second time or sound the horn a second time.

………………

The sturdy city gates were opened, and the legion's soldiers filed in, quickly beginning their assault on the entire city. They drove out the Iris people hiding in every corner, teaching them obedience with swords, hammers, and axes. The ground, which was already covered with congealed blood, was now flooded with new bloodstains.

The horrific scene in the city was beyond expectations. The corpses piled up in the streets and alleys, the wild dogs gnawing on the carrion, the blazing fires with charred, twisted bodies inside... all of this fueled the legion's soldiers' rage and killing intent. More corpses of Iris began to appear in the city and spread rapidly.

The roar of vengeance echoed throughout the city as the imperial legions sought revenge for the blood debts owed to their people. The previously frenzied Iris were now the targets of slaughter, and the entire city was shrouded in a thick stench of blood.