Chapter Fifty-Five: The Army of Glory

The Thirteenth Cavalry Legion of the Byzantine Empire, aside from this official designation, bore a special name: "Vexillatio." In the ancient Byzantine tongue, "Vexillatio" meant "The Mighty Knights." Within the empire, only those cavalry units with the most illustrious battle records were deemed worthy of such an honorific. And indeed, the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion was more than deserving of this title.

Throughout the military annals of the Byzantine Empire, the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion had carved out a history both glorious and formidable, standing as the empire's unparalleled elite force. Its origins lay with the "Rhodria Cavalry Regiment," a unit whose legacy stretched back two centuries to the time of the Empire’s Sixth War of National Defense. Then, Emperor Aurelius the Great, seeking to quell rebellion, raised a cavalry regiment from the valiant knights of the Rhodria region. In the ensuing war, they achieved resounding victories, quashing six uprisings and repelling nine invasions by the Odinmen. The people of Rhodria, with their indomitable spirit and martial blood, fought with exceptional bravery and resilience. In the annals of the empire, their regiment set a record unmatched by any other force since the founding of Byzantium: sixty-four battles, large and small, and not a single retreat. Not even the famed Imperial Guard could boast such a feat, for even they had records of defeat and flight.

At that time, the Rhodria Cavalry Regiment numbered only two thousand, yet their style of combat was remarkable: in battle, they wielded lances four meters long and bore massive oval shields—a feat only possible for the robust men of Rhodria. In their charges, they knew no fear, nor did they ever shrink back. Notably, in the course of that war, among their sixty-four battles, there were thirteen instances where the entire regiment was nearly annihilated, yet not once did they retreat.

Their battle cry resounded through the ranks of the Byzantine army, causing even the bravest to blanch: "Advance, or die!" This was no hollow slogan; from officers to common soldiers, each proved with blood and life the truth behind these words.

Through one bloody trial after another, the regiment's spirit only grew stronger. Even when rendered nearly extinct in fierce combat, the ruling powers of the empire never hesitated to rebuild it time and again. Even the most foolish of emperors understood the value of such an ironclad force, forged in blood.

After the Sixth War of National Defense, the Rhodria Cavalry Regiment was transformed from a temporary levy into a permanent, regular unit of the Byzantine army. It was renamed the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion and expanded to a strength of twelve thousand, a number that has endured to this day.

In the two hundred years since its founding, with the shifting borders of the empire, political upheavals, and the migration of peoples, the once-martial land of Rhodria has become a desolate backwater. The original, pure-blooded Rhodrians have long since dispersed, their identities lost within the empire like a drop in the sea.

Yet the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion has preserved the iron-blooded spirit of its forebears. "Advance, or die!" Generation after generation, the soldiers of the Thirteenth have defended this proud motto with their own blood. In the past two centuries, they have been stationed in the southern provinces, suppressed rebellions by military governors, resisted nomadic invasions in the west, and fought in countless engagements against the Odin Empire on the northern front. No matter the commander, the Thirteenth was always sent to the hardest fronts, given the most arduous tasks, and faced the toughest foes.

Even when confronting the Odinmen’s Berserker Sacred Legion, the soldiers of the Thirteenth never retreated a step. Thus, the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion holds a record in the empire’s history: the highest casualty rates of any unit, and the most frequent reconstructions. And still… not a single retreat.

Another record: it seems as though, two centuries ago, the fierce and combative spirit of the Rhodrians was imbued into the very soul of this legion. The Thirteenth has always been the most unruly unit in the Byzantine army, and its commanders have invariably been madmen or zealots. Even when the high command attempted to rein them in by appointing "steady" or "seasoned" officers, these men were quickly assimilated—no matter how calm, they too became fanatics.

On one occasion, a young noble, known for his upright character and refined manners, was assigned as their new commander. Within three months, his first notorious act was to lead his men in burning an allied camp to the ground in a dispute over supplies and, without trial, executing several logistics officers he deemed corrupt. He became infamous for brawling and covering up for his men, repeatedly running afoul of military law. He rose to the rank of lieutenant general and, as a district governor, reminisced: "Once you join this unit, you feel its battle spirit everywhere. Then you have only two choices: leave, or become one of them. I was fortunate—I chose the latter."

Every subsequent commander of the Thirteenth has taken those words as their motto. The legion has never produced a single obedient or docile general; in the records of the Military Law Department, it is perpetually ranked first for infractions.

***

After General Adrick departed with his entourage, Shaya made a brief stop home, as Adrick had left Kevin, the man who had sparred with Shaya, to wait for him and escort him back to camp.

Shaya’s bundle was simple: a pouch of gold coins, a folded piece of dragonhide at the bottom weighed down by a few dragon scales. The deadly fire trident, naturally, still hung at his waist. After fetching a horse from the back hill, he instructed the goblin briefly: “I’m joining the army. Take good care of the house.” Then, with a flourish, he set off.

Along the way, Kevin showed no enmity toward Shaya, despite their fierce duel. He removed his full-faced helmet, revealing a gleaming, polished bald head that made Shaya stare in wonder.

Kevin was by no means unattractive: thick brows, large eyes, a tall and muscular frame, and powerful arms. Yet the shaven head added a savage cast to his appearance.

It was Shaya’s first time enlisting, and he was curious about everything. Kevin, solemnly, gave him some instructions, especially sharing a brief history of the Thirteenth Cavalry Legion, his tone brimming with unconcealed pride.

After listening, Shaya couldn’t help but exclaim, “That’s incredible! ‘Advance, or die.’ Now that’s guts!”

His temperament and youthful age naturally inclined him to admire heroes—inspired, his heart burned with yearning.

Glancing at Kevin’s bald head, he couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, Kevin, why did you shave your head…?”

Kevin glanced at him and replied in a deep, gruff voice, “On the battlefield, it’s easy to get wounded by arrows. Shaving your hair makes it easier to treat and bandage wounds on the head or face.”

Shaya nodded repeatedly. Then, a mischievous thought crept into his mind: The head is easy to injure, but what about the rest of the body? If you get wounded on your thigh… do you shave down there too?

At this, he couldn’t help but cast a furtive look at Kevin’s nether regions, his eyes turning a bit shifty.

(Note: In actual history, “Vexillatio” does not bear the laudatory meaning of “Mighty Knights,” but simply refers to “cavalry.” In the Byzantine military system, the term “Vexillatio Palatina” referred to guard cavalry formations. The author has altered this for the sake of the story—historians, please take it lightly.)

(PS: The Byzantium in this book is, of course, not the Byzantium of real history, though I’ve borrowed some governmental and military structures—I did do some homework while writing, heh heh.)

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