Armored Cavalry, survive in a world full of mods

The guards gasped in silent astonishment; almost everyone was surprised… They hadn’t expected anyone to be able to hold their own against their commander in terms of strength, and not even be at a disadvantage until now, especially since the other party was just a lowly slave.

Each of Tersolius's attacks was powerful and heavy. Unlike swords, the muskets of his armored cavalry did not require discerning the direction of the blade; a mere graze or touch could turn flesh and bone into mud, and break limbs.

Carila, whose center of gravity is also forward, swings her axe with equal speed. Both the sharp blade and the heavy back of the axe are used to attack, and every move is aimed at vital points such as joints and neck. At the same time, she always manages to avoid the dangerous staff head with her agility, preventing her fragile body from touching the heavy steel.

In the blink of an eye, this head-on clash had lasted for over a hundred moves. The two axes were deformed and dented by the steel-forged iron staff after repeated collisions. The heavy recoil also made the slave's hands increasingly sore and numb, until finally he was forced to take a step back...

This step was like a flood bursting its banks, a torrential downpour of attacks that brought the next retreat in an instant. The strength that had been holding on was suddenly released, making it increasingly difficult to sustain.

However, Tersolius felt no heaviness or fatigue. Instead, he felt his shoulders and arms burning hot. He swung his iron staff faster and faster, his emotions becoming more and more intense. A bloodthirsty pleasure made him swing his two iron staffs like a whirlwind. Even elite soldiers in full armor would be smashed into mincemeat in front of him.

A deep roar came from beneath the helmet. Tersolius pressed forward relentlessly, while the slave who had just been attacking retreated continuously, seemingly on the verge of defeat... But just as the slave's back touched the wall, the equally crazed slave suddenly swung his axe in a bizarre arc from below, aiming directly at his jaw and wrist.

Thesolius showed no intention of retreating or parrying. Instead, he instantly switched from defense to offense, raising his staffs and slamming them down heavily on his opponent's head. The powerful downward strike was as swift as lightning, reaching the golden head first and forcing his opponent to raise his axe to block...

boom! !

A sharp metallic clang rang out as the two axes were slammed down heavily, then raised again and chopped down once more! A deep gash appeared on the axe blade, and large bursts of sparks flew everywhere. The slave threw away his axe and, as if he had lost his mind, opened his mouth to bite at Tersolius's throat, which was covered by chainmail.

At the same time, the magnificent winged helmet also rose upwards and then fell heavily! The hard, gold-plated steel collided with the flesh-covered skull. With a muffled thud, Karila's head tilted back, but before it could touch the wall, it was grabbed by a large hand covered in steel and pulled back forcefully, slamming it hard against the hard visor again.

…………

After five repetitions, Tersolius finally released his grip, letting the unconscious slave fall to the ground, blood slowly trickling down his gilded winged helmet.

………………

"I think I'm getting a little tipsy..."

142 Strange Slaves (2)

Thesolius let out a long sigh, removed his blood-stained helmet, and looked at the unconscious slave at his feet. A smirk appeared on his lips, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Arka immediately stepped forward, drew his leather whip from his waist, and bound the dangerous slave tightly. Neither of them had forgotten the other's incredible strength in prying open the cage with an axe... The solid steel was molded as easily as soft noodles, and the two axes hidden under the tattered hemp clothing opened the cage with ease, as if they were divine weapons.

So the guards not only bound the man's hands, but also his feet, and then bent his body backward like a shrimp to ensure that the dangerous slave could not make any unnecessary movements.

Thesolius stretched his shoulders, the crisp sound of bones grinding against each other coming through his armor. His surging emotions had not cooled down; his shoulders and arms were still burning hot, a long-lost passion being awakened within him.

The guy named Carila was caught up in excitement, and so was he... It was rare to encounter someone worthy of being called a worthy opponent, and a surge of instinct from deep within him made him accept the challenge without hesitation.

After a hard-fought battle where he managed to knock his opponent unconscious, he felt an immense sense of accomplishment. He tossed the battered iron staff back to its original owner and, without hesitation, headed towards the basement entrance.

"Bring them all out."

………………

With the crisp clanging of shackles, a total of 95 slaves were brought out of the basement. Each of them was strong and tall, but because they had lived in a place without sunlight for a long time, their skin was pale, and even normal light outside would hurt their eyes, causing them to involuntarily raise their hands to try to block out the strong light.

Every slave here is carefully selected, with the vast majority chosen and trained from childhood. Unlike ordinary slaves, they never suffer from malnutrition; they are provided with plenty of meat and vegetables every day, allowing them to grow tall and strong.

Each of them was proficient in at least two weapons, knew the tricks of killing in various ways, and because of their rigorous training and extreme discipline, they were all as obedient as sheep and would never disobey their master's orders.

It is worth mentioning, however, that these slaves, though obedient, were not fanatical. They had no faith, no family, no interpersonal relationships... the only thing they knew was to obey their masters' orders.

The only exception was Karila, who was brought from the north by a wealthy merchant from Iris. He had not undergone rigorous training from childhood, but with his natural talent and the ruthless skills honed in the harsh environment, he easily defeated every slave and became their leader.

The Iris merchant clearly intended to use these well-trained slave warriors for something... but he ultimately failed. As the emperor's orders spread throughout the province, the angry crowd rushed in, and the injurer, before he could even release his slaves, was dragged out and hanged from a tree.

These secretly trained slaves were locked in the basement. If it weren't for a former servant of the wealthy merchant who had reported the news, these strong slaves, who had cost a fortune to train, might have starved to death inside. At this moment, they were all pale and weak in the legs.

But after exchanging a few words with these slaves, Tersolius almost burst out laughing—each cell in the basement had enough food, but under Karila’s threat, they had to hand over most of it, which was why they were so hungry that their legs were weak.

This guy named Carila eats three times as much as a strong man, and he ate all his food extravagantly from the start, then went on to steal other people's food without any scruples... I guess that was his plan from the beginning.

That cage could never hold him; every night he would tear it open like breaking noodles and wander out. The other slaves dared not tell anyone because of Karila's powerful force, and even the merchant Iris who provided for them was unaware of it... Even if they discovered the deformed parts of the cage, they would assume it was a rebellion by this northern barbarian who wanted to gain freedom.

Thesolius laughed more than usual today. This pure and fierce northerner's simple way of thinking was just like that of a wild beast—if there was no food, he would steal; if he couldn't get what he wanted, he would steal… and he always had a unique cunning to protect himself.

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

"You are now my slaves, so you must obey my arrangements. Next, you will go to the land of the empire to cultivate or graze livestock, and prove your worth with your actions, proving that you are worthy of my support."

Before Thesolius could finish speaking, the slaves were already tense, some even showing signs of despair and confusion. They looked at each other for a while before a broad-shouldered young man bravely stepped forward, then prostrated himself on all fours and said in the most humble manner:

"My most honored and respected Imperial General, may I ask what offense we have committed? If so, please grant us, these lowly people, a chance to atone for our sins..."

Why would you say that?

Tersolius narrowed his eyes slightly, and this slight change in expression caused all the slaves to kneel on the ground in fear, not daring to raise their heads.

Only the young man he questioned continued speaking, gritting his teeth:

“My lord, we know many things—we have been trained since childhood to use swords and various weapons to defeat enemies. We have never been exposed to anything else, so… please give us a chance. We will definitely not let you down! Please do not abandon us!”

"When did I ever say I would abandon you?..."

Theolys's expression remained unchanged, yet it only instilled greater fear and trepidation in the slaves—many powerful figures wore this expression before launching their attacks; the calmer their demeanor, the more terrifying the storm brewing beneath. In such cases, it was not uncommon for offenders to be whipped to death.

The young man slammed his forehead hard against the floor.

"Please forgive my rudeness... but sir, we know nothing but swords and knives, nothing but killing... that is the meaning of our existence. We are hardly capable of any other work, so I humbly beg for your mercy..."

The young man's every word trembled. Although he was broad-shouldered and strong, he was as frightened as a startled deer, afraid of encountering that unknown and terrible fate.

Tersolius slowly stood up and glanced at the slaves—all of them were very young, even the oldest of whom was no more than 23 years old, but they were like eagles that had been caged since childhood, and dared not touch the outside world.

Before he could say anything, a burst of hearty laughter suddenly came from the side. Tersolius turned his head and saw Karila, who had already woken up, laughing loudly with her face covered in blood:

"A bunch of useless things! Even if you can wield swords, you're not warriors, just a bunch of strong children!"

The slave, whose hands and feet were bound, struggled desperately as if he had gone mad, laughing loudly at the same time. His face was covered with a mixture of blood and ash, making it impossible to see the original color of his skin.

But after chatting for a while, he suddenly fell silent again, his hands and feet no longer struggling, and he spoke to Thessalius in an almost calm manner:

"You defeated me fair and square, I have lost... If you can, please chop off my head with an axe, that will kill me quickly, I don't want to dawdle."

"After that, just leave me with the wild dogs in the wild. It won't bother anyone, and everyone can get things done more efficiently."

………………

The man with long, golden hair in front of me was talking nonchalantly about how he would die, and even strongly suggested chopping off his head with an axe, as if he were instructing someone to slaughter a sheep, with an air of lawless indifference.

Even the slaves stared at this man, their faces pale. At that moment, anyone would have thought he had gone mad…

Why should I kill you?

Tersolius raised an eyebrow and asked with interest.

"You're not going to kill me? Fine, do whatever you want. The loser has no rights or qualifications."

Karila replied nonchalantly, completely ignoring the implications of the other person's words. She simply adjusted her posture, and after realizing she had no other options, she frowned and stopped moving.

"There's one more thing I need to tell you first... I've never farmed before; I just grab whatever I need."

"correct……"

The guy with the frizzy, golden hair struggled to lift himself up from the ground, and then, to make matters worse, added at the end:

"You can ask me to sleep with you if you want... it's up to you."

………………

The entire courtyard was deathly silent. A terrifying pressure made everyone hold their mouths shut, not daring to utter the slightest sound...

Thesolius's eye twitched; an uncontrollable rage made him clench his fists, but he ultimately couldn't hold back.

"Has your brain been eaten by rats? Or have you been scared out of your mind?! Why would I like a man?"

"Yes, I know..."

The filthy-faced slave remained nonchalant, relentlessly provoking Thesolius's anger. Just as he was about to unleash a torrent of abuse on the man before him, the slave's next words left him speechless...

"I'm not a man."

------

An even more terrifying silence swept through the courtyard. Almost everyone wore a shocked expression, even the slaves who lived with her day and night—as if they had suddenly seen their own house grow legs and stand up to dance.

Everyone remembered Karila's rough voice and tall stature, her wolf-like greed and ferocity, plus her unkempt hair and dusty body.

Soon, everyone subconsciously came to the conclusion that this guy had probably really gone mad.

Thesolius made a similar judgment. The anger from before vanished from his face, and he stood up somewhat bored, ready to leave, even with a hint of regret...

"I thought you were a brave person, but I didn't expect you to be so cowardly. You were so scared that you went insane..."

The word "cowardice" pierced Karila's eardrums like steel needles, more terrifying than burning coals, more brutal than a knife slicing flesh and tendons... In that instant, this usually reckless fellow was finally enraged, exploding like a lit powder keg:

"Who are you calling a coward! You despicable bastard, take back your words! I challenge you to a duel! I challenge you to a duel!!"

After a very brief silence, the northerner, whose hands and feet were bound and whose body was bent backward like a shrimp, began to struggle desperately. He moved frantically on the ground with his strong muscles, his eyes red with anger, and he even tried to bite Tersolius's ankle.

At the same time, countless profanities erupted from her mouth like an geyser, with countless vicious words and sharp curses pouring out without restraint, like a mad lion indiscriminately attacking everything around her.

With a furious curse, the strong leather whip suddenly snapped in two with a crack, accompanied by the clear sound of bones dislocating. Even though his wrist was a bloody mess, it did nothing to diminish the man's madness.

Even Thesolius had not expected the other party's reaction to be so intense... He was willing to risk the excruciating pain and danger of dislocated bones and torn flesh in order to break free temporarily.

But the well-prepared guards were determined not to let the slave cause any more trouble. Two heavy halberds thrust out from above and then overlapped, like a giant pair of scissors, firmly locking the slave's neck to the ground.

Meanwhile, others rushed forward, some holding his hands down, others pulling his feet, binding him even tighter. Countless punches and kicks followed the process; almost everyone was disgusted with this slave… especially since he had just insulted their commander! Even being torn to pieces wouldn't be enough to atone for such a sin!

Despite being firmly restrained, despite being beaten black and blue, and even having his teeth loose, this guy still kept cursing and struggling desperately, biting everywhere with his sharp teeth... He didn't even care about the halberd blade that was right in front of him, as if he hadn't considered the consequences of running into it at all.

The area fell completely silent for a moment, leaving only the fierce warrior from the north desperately performing his oral gymnastics...

143 Carila

Tersolius immediately forgot about what had just happened; now he needed to think about how to settle these slaves.

A group of well-trained military slaves is someone no one can easily control, as they would inevitably become a dangerous threat. The question then becomes: how to manage them?

These people, raised from childhood, are extremely simple-minded... or to put it another way, they are not well-rounded and lack the common sense and abilities that a person who has grown up in society should have. Just as that young man said, they are not good at anything except fighting, and they are destined to mess up everything else, which is why they are so fearful and think they are going to be abandoned.

Looking back now, perhaps they didn't need to live the lives of ordinary people; for them, it was enough to just do what they were good at.

Then his thoughts suddenly shifted, and he thought of that confused idiot—Kalila who thought she was a woman… Although this guy wasn’t very bright, he was indeed very brave and would be perfect to lead these slaves, especially since the slaves also recognized him as their leader.

…………

Having reached this point in his thinking, he no longer hesitated and ordered that Karila, who had just been taken away, be cleaned up and brought back up, so that his dust and fleas wouldn't get into his tent, and that he be given a good wash.

As the capital of the province, Periat also has a large bathhouse. Although it is somewhat shabby compared to the bustling central areas of the empire, it still provides hot water once a day, but only until curfew.

While waiting, Thesolius drew his sword from his waist and began sharpening the blade on a pebble in the corner of the tent.

This imperial sword, bestowed by the emperor, was forged from refined iron ore mined from the central mine. The craftsmen who served the emperor specially selected two slightly different types of steel and folded and forged them alternately. After the sword blank was soaked in acid, it developed a beautiful feather-like pattern. After fine grinding, the blade could cut through flowing silk simply by standing it upright. The unique structure of the blade angle also gave it excellent edge retention. Even when forcefully chopping through hard iron armor, it was not easy to create a nick. However, dulling was inevitable. Bladed weapons always require maintenance, unlike iron staffs and chain hammers, which can be used indefinitely once they are forged.

The fine stones soaked in water quickly turned into a delicate mud under the friction of the sword blade, and the dulled edges became sharp again. Tersolius's arms maintained a fixed angle like a stable machine, grinding with even force, while he was thinking about the situation he was facing.

The situation within the empire has become stagnant, and neither the emperor nor the Senate can make any breakthroughs... Of course, this is still thanks to him. After two consecutive great victories, the people of the honorable empire have spread his name to every corner, and the emperor who insists on employing him is also gaining increasing prestige. A new power group is growing to the point where it can rival the Senate.

Moreover, this was not achieved through intrigue or trickery, but rather through a situation created by the most glorious victory under the prevailing circumstances. Anyone who wanted to oppose it would have to pay a heavy price, which is why it was so successful.

But Tersolius was not pleased with this, nor were he, the emperor, his brother, or any of the many who stood by them. No one is willing to relinquish the throne, much less allow their enemies to occupy it, and Tersolius was able to maintain control over the entire country.

Therefore, they are destined to have a bloody struggle with the old interest groups... Considering the country's burgeoning martial spirit, such a struggle is bound to be bloody, and once bloodshed occurs, it will inevitably affect the entire country, and civil war is not out of the question.

This was precisely the situation that he and the emperor least wanted to see—although the empire seemed to be at its zenith, it was surrounded by enemies on all sides. The surrounding threats had never disappeared, and the endless blood feuds would not leave any chance for reconciliation. Once the empire was in turmoil, those wolves that were lurking around would definitely not let go of this golden opportunity.

By then, no one will have a chance to stop, the situation will definitely continue to deteriorate, the war will spread to every corner, and even a powerful empire will bleed itself dry in this war.

Therefore, they must prevent the situation from escalating to that point, and they must proceed gradually, dismantling the opponent's foundation of rule from the very root... The first step in achieving this is to liberate the entire country from slavery.

The nobles' power is deeply entrenched in this country, so we need to stir up the soil that their roots are connected to, and once the soil is soft, it will be very easy to pull out their roots.

………………

The sound of the blade rubbing against the stone was delicate and hoarse. From the guard to the tip of the sword, and then flipping it over to continue the process, this process took a long time because the sword had four blades, twice as many as a dagger, making it more troublesome to maintain and more expensive to forge. Therefore, swords were rarely included in the standard equipment of the Imperial Legion. The bladed short weapons used for combat were mostly long military sabers with slightly upturned tips.

However, nobles and military officers favored swords, making them a symbol of status. The state would issue them to officers as insignia, with strict rank restrictions; a magnificent sword like the one he carried was only befitting a general.

Finally, wipe the moisture off the blade with a fine cloth, fully exposing the gleaming sword. Then apply a layer of rust-preventive grease before sheathing it to await the next battle and bloodshed.

As if it were pre-arranged, just as his blade and guard collided, his personal guards were already standing outside the tent announcing that Karila, whom he had just beaten up, had been brought in.

After receiving his permission, the curtain of the main tent was lifted, and a tall figure walked in...

Thesolius had just sat down in his chair when he looked up—

He instinctively kicked his foot, sending a chair flying and creating a loud crash. This prompted the guards outside the door to rush in, swords in hand.

Tersolius waved slightly, signaling his guards to leave... but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable, tinged with an unspeakable embarrassment.