Medieval Gacha Lord

Half an hour later.

"Stop! Let's call it quits!" Lothar sat on the ground, panting heavily. His previously inflated ego had been immediately knocked back down to earth. "Hans, honestly, how much strength did you actually use just now?"

Hans considered for a moment, then replied, "Eighty percent, at least."

Lothar suddenly understood. "So, sixty percent then. Not bad." Hans was sparing his feelings; he couldn't take it at face value.

Lothar, in terms of spiritual power alone and his attainments in blood magic, could already pass for a four-star spellcaster retainer. That coupled with his other advantages, he should be roughly on par with Hans, that "disgrace to five-stars," provided Hans wasn't upgraded and didn't use his werewolf transformation.

But the problem was, that was an un-upgraded Hans. He wasn't short of money now; how could he be stingy with wealth for Hans, this retainer who had been with him since the very beginning? He had directly upgraded him to level thirty. Moreover, Hans's template was that of a warrior, different from Banu, who was primarily focused on stamina and endurance. The disparity was immense.

"Come with me. I have a cavalry lance to give you. It's a divine weapon with the characteristic of being indestructible. I believe you can unleash its full power."

Lothar decided to give Hans the Cataphract's Lance. One could imagine, with a fine steed, Hans would be an absolute killing machine on the battlefield.

***

At noon, Lothar held a grand knighting ceremony in Montreal, witnessed by the local parish priest.

He first read out each man's merits to all the Crusader sergeants and knights. Then, following tradition, for each squire, he cut the swallowtail from their pennant, granting them the status of a knight bachelor, and accepted their formal oaths of fealty.

(Note: The designation "Bachelor" means something like junior knight.)

At the same time, Lothar ordered craftsmen to design their exclusive coats of arms and bestowed upon each a roll of silk and a reward of ten Solidus gold coins. From this day forward, they would all enter the ranks of the military nobility.

Lothar had prepared a small fief for them in Jorgklusburg—of course, it was merely a nominal fief, as many parts were simply wasteland. They lacked the financial resources and conditions to build castles, manors, or attract displaced people to form villages there.

For those who already held the title of knight, Lothar could only bestow a few gold coins as a reward; more significant were the honorary rewards. For example, he creatively proposed implementing titles like "Grand Knight" and "Knight Commander" within the Royal Knights' knightly stratum, assigning them partial military duties. This both made the best use of talent and didn't require him to pay out of his own pocket.

The onlooking sergeants were extremely envious. To chance upon such a generous Grand Master was simply a blessing from the Heavenly Father! Inwardly, they couldn't help but feel some regret; if they hadn't shrunk back on the battlefield earlier but had instead fought bravely to kill enemies, might they too have snatched a knight's title?

And this was precisely what Lothar intended. Rewarding according to merit—to this extent, it was already more than enough.

***

A dust-covered messenger galloped through the main street. Seeing Lothar, his eyes lit up. "Are you Sir Humphrey of Montreal? Chancellor Amalric has led a large army and arrived near Montreal. Please prepare quarters for the grand army in advance."

Lothar pointed to the emblem on the surcoat over his chest. "How can someone who doesn't even recognize this emblem be a messenger?"

The messenger's face changed slightly. "My apologies, Milord. Please forgive my offense. I only recently arrived in the Holy Land from Sicily."

"Go fulfill your duties." Lothar waved his hand with some disinterest.

He looked at the familiar faces behind him. The second wave of Crusaders had arrived in Montreal. This meant the day of the decisive battle with Saladin was drawing near. By then, whether even half of these men would survive was an unknown.

***

Outside Montreal, a cloud of dust rolled in the distance. Fifty knights in bright attire on spirited horses, carrying various swallowtail and square banners, escorted Amalric forward.

He looked at the grand army behind him with some self-satisfaction. Though he was the Chancellor, in Jerusalem, he had always been overshadowed by Count Raymond and Count Raynald. It was only after those two had finally departed that his chance came.

Yet Baldwin IV had unexpectedly stepped forward to resume governing. Only during this period of personally leading troops on campaign did he truly enjoy the authority of one's word being law. This feeling made him somewhat elated.

The grand army slowly advanced towards Montreal's city gate.

A knight complained, "Why has no one come to welcome us yet? Don't they know that the esteemed Lord Chancellor has arrived?"

These words resonated deeply with Amalric. He put on a stern face and, disregarding those sergeants whose lips were already chapped and who were exhausted from days of marching, shouted loudly, "Halt! Send someone to hurry them! Sir Humphrey is to dispatch someone of status to welcome me!"

He cursed inwardly. He knew Count Raynald looked down on him, but he was, after all, an important member of the Queen Mother's Party. He had also spent a great deal of money, paying out of his own pocket (i.e., embezzled city defense funds), to raise troops and horses to come to the relief of Kerak. How dare even Raynald's son not give him face?

Little did he know that Montreal hadn't even chosen a person in charge yet; who there would care about possibly offending him, a so-called "Chancellor" who rose to power through a woman?

When Lothar heard this news, he nearly burst out laughing. "Just let him wait. In the end, he'll only embarrass himself. The city gate is open; he can just come straight in. Indeed, the more one lacks something, the more one cares about it."

Lothar wasn't concerned about the Queen Mother's paramour and his three-thousand-strong "grand army."

The quality of this army was too low. Apart from fifty-odd knights and their squires, the rest were mostly hastily trained conscripts who couldn't even scrape together a full set of helmets or iron bracers. This was evident from the fact that though their two armies had set out only half a day apart, Amalric's had arrived so much later, even though the Royal Knights had rested for several days at an oasis in between.

Lothar was very confident that even his currently battered Royal Knights, if they were to truly draw up for a major battle, would absolutely be the victors. And their losses wouldn't even be that great.

To Lothar, Amalric really didn't count as much of a "big shot," even if he was one of Queen Mother Agnes's favorite lovers. This Queen Mother Agnes had far too many lovers; she almost "publicly" kept numerous paramours and promoted them to important positions like diocesan bishops and court dignitaries.

Queen Mother Agnes was the sister of Joscelin III, Count of Edessa. She had been married twice. After marrying the late King Amalric I, her loose morals were despised by the crowned Patriarch of Jerusalem, who publicly declared she was unworthy to wear Jerusalem's crown.

Thus, the late King Amalric I then married Maria Komnene of the Eastern Empire's imperial family. If not for Princess Sibylla having a son, she would be completely unfit to contend with Princess Isabella for the right of succession, because strictly speaking, both Baldwin IV and Princess Sibylla could only be considered "bastards."

After about an hour, some knights finally went to welcome Amalric.

Reportedly, Amalric gave them a severe tongue-lashing. As it happened, that knight was also hot-tempered; the two ended up pointing at each other's noses and cursing loudly, devolving into a complete farce. It was his younger brother, Guy of Lusignan, who stepped forward, claiming he would duel the other party, that finally quelled the farce.

"I really doubt how much combat effectiveness this Amalric and his 'grand army' actually possess." Lothar was enjoying the joke, but little did he expect that this joke would soon involve him.

"What? Amalric wants us to vacate the inn to house him and his knights?"