A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

The surrounding villagers quickly noticed Gaston’s fawning and began to gather around.

”My Lady, please try this cheese. My ewe has had plenty of milk this year.”

”No, My Lady, you should try mine! My cheese is sweet.”

”My Lady, my baked apples are delicious too.”

”...”

What began as enthusiastic offers grew more and more heated until the villagers started arguing amongst themselves.

”Alright, alright. I’m certain that gifts offered with such respect and generosity are sure to be sweet and delicious. I’m grateful for your enthusiasm, and I am honored to be the Lady of Saint Martin Village. However, at this moment, in this place, there is someone here who is even more deserving of your respect than I.

Father Louis of Chartres Monastery! With piety for our Lord, he has crossed the turbulent channel, prepared to redeem every soul in England with the Lord’s gospel. Let us show him our respect! With your cheers, let us put Father Louis in a joyous mood to preach his sermon!”

With a grand wave of her hand, Emma directed the crowd’s attention to Father Louis.

The tide of people quickly surged toward the bewildered Father Louis.

”Praise the Lord!”

”In the name of the Lord of Heaven! Let His glory shine upon the world!”

”May the Lord’s will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.”

”...”

Standing in the crowd, completely unfazed and ready to enjoy the show, Eric was suddenly yanked away by Emma.

”What’s wrong? Didn’t you want to embarrass him?”

”Isn’t there a simpler way?”

Emma mounted her own horse, chuckled, and pointed a pale finger at the Priest’s rather sturdy white horse nearby.

”True.”

Eric’s eyes instantly lit up.

He’d actually had his eye on this horse for a while. It was handsome and strong, far superior to a typical riding horse—it could even serve as a Knight’s Warhorse.

He nimbly untied the reins from the tree trunk, stepped into the stirrup, and swung himself onto the horse. As if sensing a scent that wasn’t its master’s, the horse’s closed eyes snapped open. It reared up on its hind legs, ready to neigh.

”What are you doing? Just let it run off.”

Emma’s heart tightened. She glanced at Father Louis, who was surrounded by the crowd, hoping the villagers’ ruckus would drown out the horse’s impending neigh.

But just as it was about to cry out, Eric placed a hand on its cheek. As if touched by some magic, the white horse instantly calmed down, lowering its front hooves. It even nudged Eric’s chin with its head in a show of affection.

”Good boy.”

Eric vaulted onto its back in a flash. With a gentle flick of the reins, the white horse obediently trotted to Emma’s side.

”How did you do that?”

This left Emma a little surprised.

”You wanna learn? I can teach you.”

”I was just asking.”

Emma snorted, then sharply flicked her reins. Digging her spurs into her horse’s belly, the bay instantly galloped away, kicking up a cloud of dust.

”Let’s catch up to her. That should be easy for you, right?”

Eric patted the white horse. It shook its head, gave a few snorts, and pawed at the dirt with its front hooves before shooting forward.

[Successfully tamed a Warhorse (1/1). Horsemanship EXP +26.]

Soon, the white horse was about to overtake Emma’s reddish-brown Norman Warhorse.

However, they weren’t heading in the direction of Xialing at all.

After riding for about half an hour, Emma stopped in front of a mountain forest and dismounted.

”Aren’t we going back to Xialing?”

”Why go back so early? So you can keep stealing things?”

Emma watched Eric, her eyes narrowed slightly.

”You didn’t really think I didn’t see you, did you? I wasn’t asleep at all. Though I wish I had been.”

”Ah, what fine weather we’re having today. And this is a nice forest.”

”Relax, I’m not going to report you. You can keep that stuff. It will all go to my brother in the end anyway, so it has nothing to do with me. Honor, titles, property, power... See how good it is to be a man? No matter what good things there are, they’re all left to him in the end.”

Emma took two Bow and Arrow sets from her own bay horse and tossed one of the bows to Eric.

”Why do you have two bows?”

”To avoid you thinking I’m about to execute you.”

As she spoke, Emma nocked an arrow, drew her bow, and aimed it at Eric.

Then she twisted her aim and fired. The arrow landed not far from Eric’s side, striking a white rabbit.

”What did you think of that?” Emma lowered her bow, smiling faintly at Eric.

”My Lady’s archery is superb,” Eric immediately flattered.

”No, I meant back in the village.”

”An excellent judgment. A model for the Nobility.”

So Emma wouldn’t think he was just being perfunctory, Eric emphasized,

”That’s the honest truth.”

”I hope so. Did you know? My father initially raised me to be his heir. After I was born, he always wanted a son. My mother gave birth to three younger brothers for me; the first two died in infancy, and only Richard survived. But my mother paid for his birth with her life.

”If things had gone differently, I probably would have ended up just like her, my life concluding just as pathetically. After he was safely born, I lost everything. He can be unruly, eccentric, arrogant, and selfish, yet he will have it all.

”You know of Adelaide of Susa, the Marchioness of Turin, the Countess of Savoy? And Matilda of Canossa, the noble Marchioness of Tuscany, the Great Countess of Spoleto? And...”

”I know them,” Eric nodded.

”She was so brilliant. For more than a moment, I’ve admired her, respected her. I wanted to be a woman like her. But it’s all just a delusion. What does the Bible say about it?”

”The Old Testament says, ’She is bone of his bones and flesh of his flesh.’ Since they’re made of the same material, there’s naturally no difference. But Ephesians also says, ’Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.’”

”But there’s no need to get hung up on it. Those Theologians always pick whichever verse is most convenient for them.”

Eric shrugged.

”After all, the Bible also forbids sodomy. And yet some people never seem to tire of it.”

”But that’s your bread and butter! How can you say that?” Emma looked at Eric, surprised.

”At least I don’t call myself a Theologian. Besides, I’d much rather pull the rug out from under someone. Like with this. I bet his face will be a picture when he finds out. I’m best at making those sanctimonious old coots lose their composure.”

Eric hooked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the white horse behind him.

”Hahaha. Yes.”

Emma’s mood brightened considerably. She tossed the spare quiver from her side to Eric.

”Did you know? The Welsh believe that Elves live in the Forest, and that they will guide the good-hearted to legendary treasures. Perhaps the Elves will bless me with a bigger catch.”

”Give me a break. I’m more or less a servant of Christ, you know.”

”But how many people really care? The English still keep slaves. Some even have more than one wife.”

”True, how many people really care? But speaking of which, is there a prize?”

Eric slung the quiver over his back and drew the bow.

”You’re that confident you’ll win?”

”If there’s a prize.”

”Hmph, fine. But if you lose, there’s a penalty.”

With that, Emma plunged into the Forest.