A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”I bet he pissed his pants! Now he’s regretting his arrogant behavior!”

”Yeah, I can already smell something weird in the air! Hahaha.”

Gary put one hand on his hip and pinched his nose with the other, looking like he couldn’t stand the smell.

With such a smug look, who could imagine how pathetic this guy looked just a minute ago?

Eric looked at the glob of cow dung stuck to Gary’s backside and shook his head.

’There was no need to stoop to an idiot’s level.’

He turned his gaze back to the burly man before him—Hereward.

’He knew the name: Hereward. One of the leaders of the English rebellion after the Norman Conquest, nicknamed ’the Knight,’ and just as famous as another English rebel leader, Adric ’the Wildman’.’

’The only Warrior in all of England with the title of Knight.’

’He was under the impression, however, that Hereward had been killed in battle two years ago. The story went that he had made peace with King William, only to be betrayed by him.’

’The King had sent sixteen Norman Knights to ambush him in the streets. Unarmored, he had supposedly killed fifteen of them before succumbing to exhaustion.’

’So how is he here now?’

”Then let me see for myself, ’Knight’ Herewar—”

Eric raised his Nail Hammer toward Hereward, but before he could finish speaking, Hereward cut him off.

”That pendant,” Hereward said, pointing to the Cross Pendant on Eric’s wrist. ”Where did you get it?”

”What?”

”I asked about the pendant.”

”The pendant? It was a gift from my dearest friend,” Eric said, without the slightest hesitation.

”Is that so? Then... you may go.”

Hereward suddenly tilted his head back, a trace of sorrow in his eyes. His voice turned melancholic.

He then waved a hand at Eric, the gesture filled with a sense of weariness.

Eric was completely baffled.

”Don’t tell me this damn Danish guy is an old friend of Sir Hereward’s. Come to think of it, I remember there actually was a Dane in Hereward’s crew before. Unbelievable. No wonder he’s such a fierce Warrior.”

”Guess it makes sense we were no match for him. This Danish brother is definitely destined for great things.”

Gary and Tokel’s attitudes did an instantaneous one-eighty.

”So, is no one at all concerned about me now?”

Gwen stood up, patted the dust from her clothes, and said, looking speechless.

The words had barely left her mouth when an arm draped over her shoulder.

”Who says? I’m paying plenty of attention to you. I reckon I could sell you for the high price of one pound in the Glamorgan market.”

”Sir Hereward, a little reaction, please? You did promise you’d keep me safe.” Although her words were a plea for help, Gwen’s tone was purely teasing.

The youth named Ared instantly grew alert. He drew his bowstring taut, the Arrow aimed at Eric, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.

”Relax, he won’t. I’m sure of it. He’s a good Cultivator, despite his aggressive posturing.

A good Cultivator ought to know: ’By day Yahweh went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night.’”

”This is why I sometimes hate dealing with smart people.”

Eric tossed the Arrow aside and tucked his Nail Hammer into his belt.

However, the next moment—WHOOSH—another sharp Arrow flew at Eric, this time aimed for his eyes.

Unsurprisingly, Eric caught the Arrow just as precisely.

This time, however, his catch was a little sloppier. The arrowhead brushed his eyebrow, barely a centimeter from his eye.

”Of course, compared to a despicable coward who launches sneak attacks, the smart-aleck seems downright friendly.” Annoyed now, Eric threw the Arrow to the ground.

The young Ared shouted something at Hereward in Welsh, then shot Eric a venomous glare.

It seemed that Hereward, Gary, and Tokel didn’t understand Welsh, just like Eric.

Gwen chose that moment to act as translator.

”’He says a true Hero shouldn’t avoid a fight, and no amount of goodwill should make you ignore the facts.’ Then Gwen looked at Hereward with keen interest.”

”I don’t know what a true Hero looks like, but I do know that any Warrior who calls himself a Hero would never shamelessly attack someone after they’ve lowered their weapon. Not even the Vikings are that despicable, Ared.”

....

Since he hadn’t yet figured out where on earth he was, Eric chose to stay with them for the time being.

He had only mentioned it casually, but to his surprise, Hereward agreed without the slightest reservation.

’I wonder what Lagman’s relationship with this guy is.’

’Could Lagman be his illegitimate son?’

The absurd thought crossed Eric’s mind.

Of course, besides such pointless speculation, Eric had also managed to piece together the group’s objective through some subtle questioning.

Hereward planned to rescue an old friend, Dean Brand of Peterborough Monastery. (Near Lincolnshire, east of Leicestershire.)

It was this very Dean Brand who had granted him the title of Knight.

This Dean Brand was also one of the few Englishmen who still held a high-ranking clerical position in England.

However, the King’s patience with him had reached its limit. Previously, he had been wary of the power of the northern rebels led by Hereward, but now the rebellion was no longer a cause for concern.

Coincidentally, Dean Brand had fallen gravely ill this year, giving the King a perfectly legitimate opportunity to appoint a new head of Peterborough Monastery.

The newly appointed head was a Norman named Torod, known for his lawlessness. Poor Dean Brand had been placed under house arrest.

As for Gwen and the Welsh youth, Ared, they were in Hereward’s employ.

Before the Norman Conquest, the Welsh and the English had been enemies. Whenever England enjoyed internal stability, they would launch campaigns to conquer Wales. After the Norman Conquest, however, the threat from the Normans united the two peoples.

Adric ’the Wildman’ was only able to hold out against William for so long because he had the help of the Welsh.

The ironic twist, however, was that this little squad of authentic Britain Island natives, composed of Welsh and English, appeared to be lost.

The main reason, of course, was that they’d discovered the King had been surprisingly active in central England. To avoid a clash with the King’s Army, they kept taking detours, and had ended up completely turned around.

What’s more, the local English population around Leicester had been all but cleared out, so they couldn’t even find a guide. As a result, they had become completely and utterly lost two days ago.

So, it was basically impossible for Eric to get their current location out of them.

’I wonder who won the battle between Robert and William.’