Medieval Gacha Lord

Through the inn window, one could see large crowds of idlers on the street, madly surging towards the castle.

News that two knights were about to duel in the square before the castle had already spread throughout the entire city.

For Montreal, starved of entertainment, this was undoubtedly a rare diversion. Especially for those of the lower classes, to be able to personally witness their high and mighty knightly lords distinguish themselves not only in skill but also in life and death, was simply too wonderful!

"The duel, is it only starting now?" Lothar didn't know exactly what had transpired.

He truly had no interest in watching a knightly duel with a foregone conclusion, but to not show up at all also seemed inappropriate. After all, that Montreal knight had insulted the honor of the Royal Knights.

"Ulm!" Lothar summoned his first Winged Hussar, took out a heavy coin pouch, and said, "Tell Pepin this is a personal bonus I've prepared for him. Remember, give it to him before the battle begins. And tell him, I am not watching the duel because I know he will surely win this battle!"

Ulm nodded. "Milord, I will remember to tell him what you said."

"Andreas!" Lothar then summoned another Winged Hussar and placed a heavy coin pouch, filled with silver Denarii, into his hand. "Go purchase some silk, and also engage a priest and a craftsman skilled in heraldry. This afternoon, I intend to hold a knighting ceremony."

Andreas's expression changed slightly. He opened his mouth, wanting to speak but hesitating.

"Relax, you are one of them." Lothar patted his shoulder; almost all the Winged Hussars knew this was his signature gesture for showing appreciation to someone. Even many knights of the Royal Knights considered it an honor to be patted on the shoulder by Lothar.

Tears immediately welled up in Andreas's eyes. Being transformed into a Winged Hussar didn't mean they had become unfeeling puppets.

Andreas had once been a knightly lord's personal manservant. He knew better than anyone what a huge leap it was from servant to freeman, and then to a knight. Many squires toiled for their masters until death yet could never possibly attain this singular honor.

Lothar said with a smile, "Do you still remember what I said when I first brought you to the Holy Land?"

Andreas nodded emphatically. "I remember many things, such as you requiring us to forbid vendettas, fulfill military service, and pay taxes..."

Lothar felt somewhat helpless. "Not those. I promised that as long as one achieves merit, I will disregard their background and bestow upon them the honor they deserve."

Andreas's face was filled with excitement. "Yes, yes, that's the phrase! I remember! But I do not think this is what we deserve; this is clearly your generous gift!" As he spoke, he made to kneel.

Lothar caught his arm. "Don't be in such a hurry. When the ceremony is held, it won't be too late to kneel then. Go complete my task, and don't be too stingy; budget as if you're spending all the coins."

Lothar watched Andreas depart. He didn't immediately return to his room but instead tossed a silver coin onto the counter on the inn's ground floor. "A cup of iced wine."

"Yes, Milord." The bartender showed an ingratiating smile. This generous big customer had made them quite a bit of money these past two days.

The streets, due to the impending duel, had become considerably quieter. Lothar took a glass of wine and found a seat by the window.

After downing a cup, faint shouts reached his ears. The Dragonborn bloodline had also enhanced his five senses; not only his vision but also his hearing had greatly improved.

"Lords, knights, sergeants, and all others. This is an honor duel to wash away shame. According to the sacred rules of knightly duels, this contest is strictly limited to Pepin of Mantua and Odolais of Sechem. Squires, sergeants, and any other armed individuals are not permitted to participate. You are required to ensure that you do not use bows, crossbows, witchcraft, or any weapons and methods inconsistent with the identity of a 'good Christian'! Use lances and knightly swords to conduct a duel that adheres to the regulations. If either party uses weapons or armor forged by evil arts or magic, they will be considered a traitor to the Heavenly Father! Even in victory, they will be punished severely as a murderer."

Listening to the pronouncements, most likely from a clergyman, Lothar couldn't help but recall the duel he had personally witnessed between Balian and Guy of Lusignan.

Dueling was a deeply ingrained custom and tradition among the Franks. Sometimes, even on the battlefield when two armies faced each other, they would still resort to sending out champions to duel to decide the outcome of a battle.

The national spirit produced in such an environment was naturally one abundant in martial virtue; it was only logical that Frankish knights were so formidable in combat.

But at the same time, this also meant that reckless brutes constituted the vast majority among the Franks. And when dealing with a formidable enemy like Saladin, recklessness was sometimes more terrifying than cowardice.

"Whoa—" Hans leaped from his horse's back and approached Lothar. "Milord, I watched them leave the city with my own eyes. They didn't linger in the city at all, nor did they converse with any suspicious individuals."

Lothar ignored the inn's dancing girl, who kept throwing him coquettish glances, and headed upstairs with him. "It seems I was being overly suspicious."

Overly suspicious or not, the lesson Humphrey had taught Lothar was to never assume others would act according to common sense.

For example, according to common sense, Humphrey would have absolutely no reason to attack him, yet he did precisely that, because of asymmetrical information—Lothar could never have imagined the factor of evil god bewitchment.

Who knew if Sayf al-Din had also gone mad and, disregarding his esteemed governorship, decided to stir up a riot in Montreal or something similar?

'Am I developing a persecution complex?' Lothar rubbed his temples.

Hans said in a low voice, "Milord, there's no great fault in being careful." He hesitated, wanting to say more.

Lothar said with resignation, "Is there something you can't say directly to me?"

Hans scratched his head somewhat sheepishly. "Milord, to be honest, I'm a bit shaken by what happened to you in the castle... If possible, I hope that in the future, you can keep me by your side as much as possible. Sometimes, there are things General Banu might not be conveniently suited to do, which I can handle."

Lothar patted his shoulder. "I appreciate your kind intentions, but it's really unnecessary. Besides, I am not the same as I was before. Care for a spar?"

"Are you sure, Milord?" Hans looked somewhat doubtful.

In their previous spars, even when Hans went easy on him and relied purely on swordsmanship, Lothar couldn't last more than a few rounds. It was simply a beating.

"Of course."

"Come on, let's go back and armor up. We'll have a good, hearty fight!"

Lothar didn't think he was Hans's match now, but his combat effectiveness had definitely improved all around. As long as Hans went a little easy, he felt he should still be able to put up a decent fight.

Both were clad in armor and had come to the inn's backyard. Lothar gripped his hand-and-a-half sword with both hands, one on the hilt and one on the blade. His field of vision narrowed due to the helmet.

But Lothar's spiritual power had surged; the channels he used to observe the outside world were no longer limited to just his eyes.

"It's about to start, Hans! Go easy at first; restrict your strength and speed to half your usual!"

"Alright!"

'Clang—' Lothar strode forward with a simple, unadorned chop. He saw Hans immediately identify a flaw and swing his longsword up from below to counter.

Hans, who had seemed extremely swift in his eyes before, now had movements that felt somewhat sluggish.

He instantly stopped his chopping motion, dodged Hans's counterattack, and, using the sharp pommel of his hand-and-a-half sword, lightly tapped Hans's helmet, producing a crisp sound.

Hans, stunned, froze his movements.

Lothar lifted his visor and said with some smugness, "Well? Not the same as before, am I? Again! This time, you use your full strength, and I will also use blood magic to assist in the fight!"