A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”And so, a terrible thing happened. The Anjou People burned my Church, the plague carried away my parishioners, yet I alone was spared. I believe God let me live because He must want me to do something.” The Priest gazed up at the sky.

”Do what?”

”I haven’t figured that out yet. Perhaps He will tell me when the time is right. Until then, I must be as devout as possible. I will hold myself to the standards of a Cultivator.” The Priest waved his hand.

”And so He had you run into a robber like me?” Peter shook his head.

”Perhaps you won’t be, in the future.”

The Priest smiled, seemingly very confident.

”Don’t give me that. The plague took many people, good people included. So I decided to live life to the fullest, however I see fit.” Peter wiped the wine trickling from the corner of his mouth. ”Still, I’ll pray for you. You saved my life.”

The day they had met, Peter had eaten a diseased chicken and was in agony. The Priest had cured him.

”And you saved mine.”

”Seriously, I’ve never had wine this good. Where did it come from?” Peter burped.

”It’s from Beaune, but it came by way of Rome. It’s from His Holiness the Pope’s private collection.”

”What? So you’re some kind of big shot.” Peter looked at the Priest in surprise.

”No, that would be my younger brother. He’s a steward, one of the men who provides vestments for His Holiness the Pope. Or, he used to be. His current position is less... official.”

”But, still...”

”My handsome younger brother is eight years my junior, but he looks quite young. A certain Cardinal... appreciates masculine beauty, and this Bishop is known for his generosity—even towards vices he dislikes.”

”Maybe I should apologize.” Suddenly, the wine didn’t taste so good to Peter anymore.

”My brother is not the one at fault, and neither are you. Why should you apologize?” The Priest shrugged.

”Yeah, you’re remarkably clear-sighted. Seriously, you should be the Pope.”

Peter chuckled, corked the wineskin, and handed it back to the Priest.

”Speaking of which, this Prince William fellow seems to be into the same sort of thing. I’ve heard he likes men with beards. He’s not fond of women, and thinks men without beards are all effeminate.”

”Now that sounds like a man of character. Yes, men should be with men, shouldn’t they?”

The two of them exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

As the two were enjoying their laugh, the foreman’s roar echoed from a distance. It was time to change shifts.

”Dammit, this job is a killer. We have to work from morning till night.”

Peter grumbled, shouldering a crudely made spear, and walked toward the city gate with the Priest.

The foreman began to lay out the reception protocols.

Today, the Nobility of Mann and Persh would be arriving in Laponti City to swear allegiance to the Count of Mann and Prince William.

To avoid unnecessary trouble, they needed to limit the number of retainers the Nobility brought, especially their household knights.

Since last night, some nobles, eager to display their loyalty, had been traveling through the night to Laponti City for an audience with Prince William and the Count of Mann.

It was not an easy job, as most knights and nobles were not known for their good tempers.

But Peter was adept at finding joy in his miserable life. At least the noble wives, their daughters, and their maids who accompanied the Nobility were easy on the eyes—as were the many gaudily dressed court courtesans.

”Priest, seriously, I’m starting to love this job,” Peter said, leaning unsteadily against the wooden fence, his head still spinning from a scented kiss from a lady-in-waiting. He turned to the Priest.

”I’d advise you to exercise some restraint. This is only the first day. If you have any... ideas, you should wait until the third day.” The Priest stood ramrod straight, his back to Peter. His tone betrayed his disappointment, and to any observer, he looked the very picture of righteousness.

”Alright, alright, I was just making a comment. I haven’t been near a woman in at least six months.”

Peter whistled at a passing maiden, then walked over to the Priest and patted his shoulder. That’s when he saw them: no fewer than seven or eight lipstick marks running from the Priest’s right cheek down to his neck.

Peter’s mouth twitched, utterly speechless.

He shifted his gaze to the road outside the gate. A beautifully crafted carriage was approaching, surrounded by fully armed knights—nearly a hundred of them.

The carriage bore a vibrant, shield-shaped coat of arms on a blue field.

”My heavens, which lord from Mann is this? What a grand display.”

Peter stroked his chin. The Priest was also stunned, but the two of them steeled themselves, walked to the gate, and barred the convoy’s path with their crudely made long spears.

”Apologies, my lord, but your retinue exceeds the limit. Prince William and the Count of Mann have ordered that no more than ten knights may enter the city,” Peter said, mustering his courage.

The knights, however, had no intention of stopping.

”Sirs, please don’t make things difficult for us,” the Priest added. ”Today is the day of the allegiance ceremony. No one wishes to displease the Prince and the Count.”

The Priest had barely finished speaking when the knights erupted in derisive laughter.

”Look at this. What’s this country bumpkin blabbering about?”

”Our Lord isn’t here.”

”They think we’re guests. HA HA HA!”

”...”

Hearing the commotion, the knights stationed at the gate ran out. The phrase ”Our Lord isn’t here” immediately put them on high alert.

A young man in a fine green robe approached. He had a bowl-cut and a thin mustache.

”Your Excellency, are you perhaps here to cause trouble?” he asked with a smile, his tone dripping with arrogance.

He noticed Eric was wearing a Monk’s Robe and assumed he was merely an attendant Priest.

Therefore, his gaze passed over Eric and fell upon the carriage behind him.

”If I were, you wouldn’t be standing so close,” Eric said with a smile. ”My lord, please, lift your noble gaze and take a look at the coat of arms on that banner.”

The young man in green robes glanced at the banner and fell silent.

One of the knights behind him stepped forward and whispered in his ear.

”I apologize to you and your family for my previous presumption, esteemed Lady Helia. I hope the ignorance of myself and my subordinates has not soured your mood today.” The young man in green immediately placed a hand over his heart and executed a perfect bow in the direction of the carriage.

A hand then emerged from the carriage and gave a dismissive wave toward the young man.

The young man in green bowed once more.

”Does the mistress of this city need to be treated like any other visitor? To leave her own knights outside the walls? What kind of logic is that? We have traveled all the way from Italy to Mann, a journey plagued by bandits and brigands. The Duke, fearing for his daughter’s safety, specially dispatched his most elite knights to escort her.

”After such an arduous journey, can she not even enter the city to rest? If that’s the case, then I see no need for this marriage alliance. It shows a complete lack of basic respect for the Duke.” Eric’s expression darkened as he spoke.

”These two servants are simple men, my lord, please pay them no mind. Laponti City is Lord Hugo’s domain, which naturally makes it Lady Helia’s domain as well.” The young man in green smiled, turned, and waved at the knights who had gathered behind him, signaling for them to part. ”Clear a path! This is the Countess’s convoy! Everyone, back to your posts!”

The young man in green gestured with an outstretched hand and began walking briskly into the city.

”Now then, allow me to lead the way for you. I’m sure Lord Hugo will be delighted to see his future wife on such an important day.”

Eric didn’t press the issue further. He waved to the knights behind him, and the convoy continued its procession into the city.

Eric had replaced all the knights Otto had brought from Italy with his own men and had disguised his archers as servants.