A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”What’s going on? Where did these crazed bumpkins find so many Knights?”

”These crazed bumpkins must have allied with Baron Turin.”

”It looks like there are Normans, too?”

”Cut the chatter and open the gate! Let us in! Ludovico! You bastard! They’re about to charge!” Sforza roared.

The Guard Captain panicked. He quickly cleared the way and ordered the guards to lower the drawbridge for Sforza’s men.

The Crossbowmen on the walls immediately opened fire on the approaching Norman Army, trying to buy time to close the gate and raise the drawbridge.

However, the Welsh Longbowmen, who had already crept into optimal range, immediately loosed a volley. The Arrows took out more than a dozen daring Crossbowmen leaning out from the battlements. The Crossbowmen’s bodies plummeted from the walls, crushing a guard below and sparking even greater panic.

Eric and his men swiftly entered the city.

However, once he confirmed that all his men were inside, he halted.

”Are you ready?” Eric shouted suddenly, gripping his reins and wheeling his horse around to face his Knights.

”How can we possibly prepare? They look like they have at least ten thousand men—” The Guard Captain, thinking Eric was speaking to him, instinctively turned to look.

Yet before he could finish, a Longsword plunged into his abdomen. Blood instantly welled up in his throat. Before he could even groan, the Guard Captain collapsed, his face a mask of disbelief.

In the next instant, the Norman Knights drew their weapons. Before the city guards could react, they were cut down with brutal efficiency.

The stench of blood filled the air, magnified by the heat.

The sudden turn of events stunned the soldiers who had been preparing to raise the drawbridge. They subconsciously let go of the winch. The wheel spun wildly under the force of gravity, and the half-raised drawbridge came crashing back down.

Another long horn blast sounded from outside the walls. The five or six remaining guards knew it was the signal to charge. Realizing they had let the enemy in, they scrambled desperately into a nearby guardroom and bolted the door.

The Knights paid them no mind. They tore off their plain outer cloaks, revealing the surcoats beneath bearing the arms of Gloucester and Shrewsbury, Eric’s blue field with a saltire, and Belem’s lion surrounded by stars.

The Knights stormed the walls. The Crossbowmen, who were still exchanging fire with the Welsh Longbowmen, had no idea what was happening before sharp blades slit their throats.

The first wave of Norman Knights from outside charged in, followed by a second, and a third... More people poured in behind them: Attendants, cooks, carpenters, blacksmiths, and even the camp prostitutes. Villagers and townsfolk who had joined the Norman Army merely to swell its ranks, with no intention of fighting, flooded in as well.

They roared with excitement. This was it—the time for Milan to weep had begun. The Normans had taken the city.

Just then, the Church bells began to ring. The sound was like the apocalypse—the dead rising from their graves, the Gate of Hell opening for the sinners.

The unarmored, those with little fighting ability, set fires and looted... Smoke soon billowed into the sky.

Like a wolf pack that had scented blood, the Welsh Longbowmen fired Arrow after Arrow at the barricades, forcing the defenders to duck behind overturned carts. Then, with a cheer, the Norman Knights and the rest of the rabble charged the barricades with Swords, axes, and Long Spears.

More men followed, attempting to clamber over the makeshift barrier.

Crossbows on the barricade fired relentlessly. Heavy Crossbow Arrows struck down the unarmored, but under the cover of the Welsh Longbowmen, the Knights charged through the barrage.

Knights and soldiers of the Black Rose Corps rose to meet the survivors. Sword clashed against axe, and blood slicked the bridge. A Crossbowman slipped and was trampled to death by his own comrades.

Soon, the Longbowmen ran out of Arrows. They abandoned their Bows and Arrows, drew axes, Swords, billhooks, and Long Spears, and charged with a scream. They let out high-pitched howls as they ran. Crossbow Arrows might strike them down, but the survivors simply vaulted over the dead and tore at the barricade.

A tall Welshman with a Long-handled Axe managed to climb to the top of the barricade. He viciously hacked at a Milanese man who had a ribbon on his Helmet, but was then struck by two Crossbow Arrows. He crumpled, and the Milanese dragged him down their side of the barrier, where three of them cut him to pieces with their Swords.

Then, they used his own axe to chop off his head. They impaled the bloody skull on a Long Spear and held it high above the barricade, taunting the attackers.

The Normans and the English roared in fury while the Milanese screamed in defiance. A horn sounded from within the castle, and every Church bell began to toll the alarm.

Eric led twenty Knights and twenty mounted archers around the barricade. They took a side path and charged toward the nearby castle where, according to Isfuerza, the Marquis was being held.

As they neared the castle, Eric had Sforza order most of the castle’s garrison to reinforce the breached main gate, allowing him to take the fortress with ease.

Eric and his Knights had taken the castle.

And so, Eric arrived at the room where the Marquis was being held.

However, when he pushed the door open, he was met with a woman’s scream. No, it wasn’t a woman. It was a man—a flamboyantly dressed youth, huddled in the corner of the bed and clutching the sheets.