A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”Exercising in bed?”

”Er... because it’s convenient. Besides... it’s a Normandy custom. At all times, in all places, one must maintain the self-awareness of a warrior, train their body, and hone their combat skills—even in bed, even at the first light of dawn.

This usually demonstrates a warrior’s unwavering will.”

”Is exercising fully clothed also a Norman custom?” Matilda continued to ask.

”Er... this is a tradition from Scandinavia. Our ancestors came from the far north, a land far colder than any part of Gaul or Italy. It is a world of snow and ice, where the cold seems to freeze everything, even time itself.

Crops struggle to grow in the barren soil. People toil to farm through the seasons, yet they can never fill their bellies. Every spring, the cries of newborns are more punctual than the birds that herald the season, because even mothers have no milk to give.

At some point, people there stopped learning how to be farmers from birth, and instead learned how to become an outstanding warrior.

Children are trained by their elders until they come of age. The summers there are quite short. Most of the time, if you weren’t wearing woolen clothes during training, you’d quickly lose your body heat. Even so, people would still die from the cold every winter.

The finest warriors travel to distant lands in their youth. The Danish and Norwegian go west, the Swedes go east. When they return, they are laden with honor and riches.

Of course, the bravest and wisest among them, guided by the gods, felled oaks and pines. They built bridges to worlds beyond, venturing fearlessly into unknown seas. They sought better, warmer lands, hoping for a place with enough grain, enough milk, and an eternal, peaceful spring.

So when they landed in Normandy and set foot on that fertile land, they held on to their Scandinavian traditions so that future generations would remember their ancestors’ spartan lives in Scandinavia and, at the same time, commemorate their legendary deeds.

It’s a way of preserving primal memories.

The traditions were passed down alongside their legends, which is why they are still kept today,” Eric said, then did another set of push-ups.

”A fine story, a fine custom. I assume the heroes of this story weren’t pirates, were they?” Matilda said, crossing her arms and tilting her head to look at Eric.

”You could say that, in a way. Further north, they were called merchants,” Eric said with a wry smile, trying to ease the tension.

The Saracen girl pinned beneath Eric seemed to misunderstand. Eric felt her start to unfasten his clothes.

Eric patted her on the head, signaling for her to stop, but she completely misinterpreted the gesture and sped up.

”Merchants who sell stolen goods. I don’t have a high opinion of merchants, but now I’m starting to feel I should stick up for them against you,” Matilda said as she walked toward Eric.

Eric noticed her movement, and his breath hitched.

Just then, the Saracen girl under him unfastened his clothes and began kissing his abdomen.

”Is that so,” he said, struggling to act as if nothing was happening.

But just when she was a meter or two from Eric, she stopped and turned around.

”Something important has happened. Get up. Right now, you’re not a warrior, you’re a Marquis.”

With that, Matilda left the room, slamming the door hard behind her.

It wasn’t just Eric; Otto also breathed a sigh of relief and peeled himself off the wall.

Otto had been pretending he wasn’t there, holding the pose of being plastered against the wall.

Otto wiped his bloody nose with his sleeve and rubbed the spot, which had been slammed by the door.

”She didn’t see me, right?”

”Only God knows,” Eric snapped irritably.

He then pressed down on the Saracen girl beneath him, signaling her to stop.

”Relax. She probably saw me,” Otto said with a shrug.

”Yeah. Two of us. That leaves even more to the imagination.”

”Sorry. I actually came to tell you about that. I just saw the guards reporting a death in the castle to her, but... I didn’t expect her to get here so fast.

But on the other hand, maybe this is good news. It shows she still has some respect for you.”

”Is that supposed to be comforting?” Eric asked, getting out of bed and glaring at Otto.

’He suspected Otto was here to get revenge for Mann.’

”If you can take any comfort from it. Besides, she’s a beauty. It’s just her temper... it seems, and I only say *seems*, not so... good.” As soon as Otto finished speaking, the door was kicked open again, slamming into his nose once more.

Eric jumped, quickly turning to cover the Saracen girl on the bed and pretending to be making it.

”Meet me in the great hall later. Before you come, clean yourself up. I hate the smell of sweat,” Matilda shouted from outside the door, not entering the room.

Before Eric could even think of a reply, he heard her footsteps walking away.

”Alright, well, now the outcome is obvious,” Otto said, plugging his gushing nose with his sleeve again. ”But you have to believe me, Eric. If not for God’s sake, then for my nose’s sake.”