Medieval Gacha Lord

At the mouth of the alley, the two men sat on the ground, gasping for breath. Scott said with some remorse, "We shouldn't have run. That young lady is still inside."

John, with a look of indifference, said, "Look at her attire; you can tell she's a noble young lady. Even if you risked your life to save her, she couldn't possibly marry you. If you died—who would take care of your parents? Besides, didn't someone just rush past? Judging by their clothes, they should also be two nobles. If they can deal with the evil spirit, they don't need us two. If they can't, then us two going up would just mean two more lives lost. People like us should just honestly be grunts."

Suddenly, footsteps came from within the alley. A group of people walked out. Scott exclaimed in pleasant surprise, "Miss, are you alright?"

The noble young lady waved her hand. "Of course, I'm fine. It was just a small evil spirit; it's already been dealt with. Thank you for your concern, kind-hearted young man." This noble young lady then spoke a few words in a low voice to the knightly lord beside her with an air of indifference.

The knight approached them. "Good day, two brave warriors. I am Lothar von Habsburg, Lord of Jorgklusburg, Grand Master of the Royal Knights. Thank you for your concern for my... sister. I would like to ask you a few questions."

"You are Baron Lothar?" John said with some excitement. "Please ask whatever you wish, Milord. If we know anything, we will surely tell you."

"Regarding this evil spirit, do you know anything about it?"

"I think I know a little."

"You think?"

John nodded. "Yes, I'm not too sure either. At the end of last year, the captain of the city guard, raped a young Jewish girl and later killed her entire family. The house in this alley used to be that young Jewish girl's home. Nothing much happened at first, but not long ago, the new owner of this house was found dead beside the well. Since then, someone has died near this alley every two days. If you ask me, it's that little girl's resentment being too deep; she died and came back to life to take revenge."

Lothar nodded thoughtfully. It seemed there wasn't some sorcerer or other supernatural being manipulating things behind the scenes. In that case, once it was dealt with, it was dealt with, and there wouldn't be any further trouble.

"And no one took care of this matter?"

John said with some helplessness, "Sigh, less than ten people have died in total. How could such a trivial matter possibly alarm the noble lords? A priest came, took a look, and then went back."

"Alright, thank you for informing me." Lothar and his party were about to leave.

Scott suddenly spoke up, "Milord, can I join the Knightly Order under your command and become a soldier?"

Lothar was somewhat surprised. "Why would you have such an idea? Fighting with the Knightly Order, the chances of losing your life are not small. Conversely, if you stay in Montreal, you most likely won't have to worry about your life."

Scott's face flushed red. "Milord, I don't want to be just a city guardsman forever! There's more of a future following you!"

John tugged at his clothes, wanting to dissuade him, but didn't dare to speak.

"Alright then. Go find an officer under my command named Ryan. He will give you a position as a sergeant. Consider it a reward for your kind heart."

Becoming a sergeant in the Knightly Order wasn't that easy; new recruits mostly had to start as conscripted laborers transporting baggage. Not everyone in this Knightly Order was a combatant.

"Thank you, Milord!" Scott stole a glance at Fringilla, then quickly lowered his head, not daring to look again.

'Good heavens, how could there be such a beautiful girl in this world?'

***

Lothar didn't rashly use the reward from completing the Demon Hunter milestone. He first rented many inns in the city to house the soldiers under his command. Although they could camp outside the city, simple tents and camp beds were hardly comfortable. Lothar was willing to let his soldiers rest well for a period.

A long march was like a tightly drawn bowstring; soldiers needed good rest to recover their combat effectiveness. In that Battle of Hattin in his previous life, it wasn't Saladin's grand army that defeated the Crusaders, but drought and thirst.

(Note: The Battle of Hattin was a decisive Muslim victory that drastically shifted the balance of power in the region. The Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem was left virtually defenseless. Shortly after that, Saladin proceeded to capture Jerusalem, fulfilling his long-held ambition.)

"Let's go. We'll continue our shopping. I still haven't given you the gift I promised," Lothar said to the expressionless Banu.

***

Kerak Castle. The brutal siege had already lasted for three full days. Count Raynald, his sword at his side, surveyed his surroundings.

Corpses, in various states of death, were distributed across the city walls. The scorching weather had already caused these bodies to begin decomposing and breeding maggots. He knew that if this continued, even if Kerak Castle wasn't breached, the people inside would die from plague.

Not far away, Saracen artisans, as if assembling furniture, were putting together large siege engines outside the city: siege towers covered in iron sheets, battering rams, and giant trebuchets... These immensely powerful siege weapons were putting enormous pressure on Kerak's sturdy defenses.

Outside the city walls, densely packed Saracen soldiers were collectively praying towards the sun. Zoroastrian clergymen preached before the soldiers about the horrifying massacre Crusader pilgrims had conducted when they breached Jerusalem in the past.

"When the Franks breached Jerusalem back then, they slaughtered indiscriminately, regardless of gender or age, dashing children's heads against walls, and spearing unborn infants with their lances! Then they forced those captive Zoroastrians to burn the bodies of their own co-religionists with fire! In the end, they themselves were also burned to ashes! We must remember this hatred! When the city falls, we will repay in full the slaughter the Franks inflicted upon us!"

The clergymen tirelessly recounted this history, which was already over a hundred years old. It was indeed very effective. The morale of these soldiers, from various tribes and chieftains, greatly increased; they wished they could immediately rush onto the city walls and slaughter all those detestable Franks.

In reality, the victims of the Jerusalem massacre probably numbered just over ten thousand. Many were still sold into slavery or escaped Jerusalem alive through various channels. But the Western clergymen who recorded these events considered the slaughter of infidels a great merit, so they exaggerated the numbers. And Saladin's clergymen, following suit, treated this as the official historical record to proclaim the evil deeds of the Crusaders.

Count Raynald, feeling mentally and physically exhausted, said, "Send someone to negotiate with Saladin. Say we agree to his request to exchange corpses. We need time to rest and regroup, and to burn all the bodies in the city. If this goes on any longer, Kerak Castle will become a city of the dead."

A soldier received the order and left. A moment later, a white flag was raised, and he was lowered from the battlements in a hanging basket, heading towards the Saracen army.

"Haven't Humphrey's troops from Montreal arrived yet?" Raynald suddenly inquired. No one answered him. He cursed angrily, "That damned little bastard! Does he intend to watch me and his mother perish together in Kerak Castle before he's satisfied?"

"Immediately send someone to urge the King's grand army! Tell them Kerak is about to fall! Whoever arrives first to provide aid, I will grant them my fief of Hebron!" Count Raynald gritted his teeth.