A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Under the watchful eyes of the surrounding Guards, the prisoners began to frantically scramble for the weapons on the ground.

Eric silently retrieved his Kuman Saber and Round Shield from his space.

Eric decided to find a spot for himself in the middle. ’In a battle formation, the center is always the safest place.’

Eric immediately lowered his head, hunched his shoulders, and silently backed away, taking a dozen or so steps.

’That feels about right. Any further back would be rude.’

Eric nodded in satisfaction and raised his head.

’What the fuck, where did everyone go?!’

The crowd that had been packed shoulder-to-shoulder just a moment ago was now completely gone.

Then he heard murmurs of discussion coming from behind him.

”My, this Priest is so earnest.”

”I’d bet my life he’s a truly devout Priest, a true Servant of God. He’s practically a living Saint.”

”I thought all the honest and kind people in the world were dead. I never expected to meet one today. It really makes you feel ashamed of yourself.”

”It’s true. But it’s just freedom, you know? Even if we’re not slaves anymore, there’s no guarantee we can even feed ourselves. Why risk your life for something so trivial?”

”...”

Eric was speechless.

He even saw Hessin, who was covering his mouth, moved to tears.

’Goddammit, I tell you to stay behind me, and this is how you do it, huh?’

Over on the other side, Leif waved, a quizzical look on his face. But then he seemed to understand something and gave Eric an approving gesture and a look of admiration.

’Fine, fine, fine. So that’s how we’re playing this, is it?’

Eric curled his lip, then walked over to the formation behind him, taking a spot in the front row.

Even the prisoners in the very front row looked at him with admiration, their eyes shimmering with tears of gratitude. If they weren’t about to go into battle, Eric figured they might ask him for a bit of his blood, or maybe a fingernail or a toenail clipping.

He wouldn’t be surprised if, after the battle, should he ”unfortunately fall,” they would happily dismember his corpse and take the pieces home to build shrines.

The prisoner army was then herded toward a Scottish-occupied castle to the north.

The moment he laid eyes on the castle, its drawbridge lowered and an army poured out.

Bit Island itself had little value, except as a staging ground for Viking raids. The enemy was definitely low on supplies, which meant they needed to eliminate their foes quickly.

An army nearly twice the size of the prisoner force marched out in formation. In the vanguard were twenty cavalrymen, though they were a shabby lot compared to proper cavalry, with only a thin-looking metal plate on their chests and leather on the rest of their bodies.

Two-thirds of the infantry wielded a motley collection of weapons. They seemed to be slightly better-quality conscripts, tenant farmers with a little something to their name, and there was also a decent number of archers.

For Eric, this was a small consolation.

Still, it was hardly good news for Eric’s side. They had no archers. Or rather, the Vikings had never intended to give them any bows and arrows in the first place.

’This prisoner army is probably just bait, meant to draw the enemy’s attention. The main Viking force will likely attack from a flank.’

’We’re not even cannon fodder to hold the line; we’re just sacrificial pawns.’

Just then, the enemy cavalry leader blew his horn—the signal to attack.

Spurred on by the horn, a portion of the Scottish infantry, brandishing their assorted weapons, began to advance on the prisoner army.

”Brothers! We may have been strangers before today, and I know you’re all afraid, but right now, we have to fight for our lives! We need to keep our shields locked tight and hold the shield wall. When their cavalry charges, you absolutely cannot panic. Hold the formation!”

”If the shield wall breaks, what awaits us is Hell! We’ll be lambs to the slaughter! Have faith! Whether it’s the Lord or Sol, they will protect us!” Eric shouted, having noticed the believers of various gods in their ranks.

But many were already lost to fear. They just stood there, trembling, weapons in hand, imagining the impending slaughter, too terrified to hear a word he said.

Only a few who had seen war before, or who could still keep their wits about them, along with some who believed—or wanted to believe—that Eric was a strong-willed ”Saint,” followed his words. They raised their shields, protecting those beside them who had none.

However, with so few shields, the resulting shield wall was a very fragile one.

Perhaps unable to bear the invisible pressure of the battlefield, some men couldn’t stop themselves from breaking out of the shield wall to charge. They didn’t make it more than a few steps before the enemy archers shot them down, leaving them to writhe and scream on the ground.

One burly Nordic man who had charged out heard Eric’s shout, managed to luckily dodge an arrow, and scrambled back into the formation.

”Everyone, hold your ground! Do not attack! Hold the shield wall! Wait until they’re on top of us, then we attack!”

Eric roared at the men behind him.

Scarcely had the words left Eric’s mouth when the enemy archers reached their position and a volley of arrows flew through the air.

Prisoners in the middle of the formation without shields were struck and fell. Some panicked and tried to flee the ranks, only to be shot down by the archers of the rearguard enforcers.

Seizing the opening, the enemy cavalry struck. A Long Spear punched straight through a shield-bearer on the perimeter.

In an instant, the fragile shield wall shattered.

”Everyone, hold! Hold! Don’t attack! Keep the formation! Maintain the shield wall!”

But Eric’s roars were not enough to stop the rout. The rear half of the prisoners broke completely, and the shield wall was cut in two.

The fleeing prisoners were quickly cut down by the Scottish cavalry.

Fortunately, those who remained were all either strong-willed or had some combat experience.

Leif, holding his shield, was the first to move to the rear to plug the gap created by the rout. The men beside him saw what he was doing and quickly followed suit.

The Scottish infantry drew closer. Ten meters, nine, eight... one!

”Attack!!!!”

In an instant, the two lines of infantry crashed into each other. The fact that some of the enemy’s front-rank soldiers had no shields helped to slightly even the odds for Eric’s side.

Longswords, Nail Hammers, and Long Spears stabbed violently through the gaps in the shields.

”Do not fear! Do not falter! Our Lord Christ has already triumphed over death! He has swallowed up death forever! The Lord Yahweh will wipe away the tears from all faces! Now, raise your voices with me! God is with us!”

Eric bellowed, unsure of how much effect his words would have, but knowing it was better than nothing.

’Hopefully, this can whip them into a frenzy, boost morale, and give this rabble some Courage.’

A Long Spear pierced his wooden shield and sank into Eric’s waist. The searing pain almost made him drop his saber.

”God is with us!”

”God is with us!”

”God is with us!”

What had been a few scattered echoes suddenly became a chorus.

In moments of desperation, faith can always make a man hold on just a little longer.

”You are the god of war, the god of slaughter, the god of the gallows! You are the seeker of truth, the hooded one, the lord of might, the god of the scepter, the glory of the North! Odin protects all valiant men! Odin is with us!” Leif roared.

”Odin is with us!”

”Odin is with us!”

”Odin is with us!”