A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

At this time, the sacks were also pulled from the heads of the other Frank and German nobles. They found themselves in a bright and magnificent hall.

They couldn’t remember the last time they had seen such a clean place, breathed fresh air, or been free from the unbearable stench of excrement.

Their time in captivity had almost made them forget they were once part of the Nobility, that their lives were meant for everything that was the opposite of filth and squalor.

Their gazes then fell upon the people in the hall. Besides the usual, detestable Heretics, there was…

They quickly noticed the man surrounded by the Heretics. He was not one of the Turkic People, nor a Saracen, and certainly not one of those perfidious Greek converts, but a pure-blooded Frank.

A year ago, the title “Frank” would have meant little to them, and it certainly wouldn’t have stirred such powerful emotions as it did now.

They had had enough of the self-righteous Greeks who treated faith as a mere tool, and of these Heretics who blasphemed God at every turn.

Never before had they felt such love for their homeland and their kinsmen.

“In the name of my lord, Robert, King of England, I, the Earl of Gloucester, offer my highest respects to all of you, God’s Warriors, who have fought and bled in Syria for more than a year. Your courage has irrefutably proven your devotion to God, and your firm, unyielding will is as unshakable as a rock.

On my own behalf, I extend a solemn invitation to you all: fight alongside us. Lend your strength for the glory of the Lord of Heaven, for the Holy City of Jerusalem, and for the Christians who suffer in the East. May the grace of God be with you always, and may the teachings of Christ make us invincible!” Eric said, bowing to the prisoners.

The prisoners were silent for a moment, then some of them broke into cheers.

“Almighty God has blessed us!”

“Thank you, merciful Father in Heaven!”

“Glory to you, Father in Heaven!”

“…”

“You spineless cowards, shut your mouths! Must you be in such a rush to expose your true, craven nature? Which one of you actually deserves any of that praise?

You are nothing but a pack of shameless oathbreakers, even more repulsive than those Greeks! You remember God only when He shows you favor, and you raise your swords to fight for Him only when you stand to profit!

A pack of cowardly, self-righteous wastes of space! You should all go to Hell! May your souls be damned for all eternity!”

It was the same burly German noble from before, roaring at the Frank nobles who were so eager to rush into Eric’s embrace.

His voice was booming, despite his clumsy Frankish. It was thick with a German accent, wasn’t it?

No, it seemed he even used a few Danish words.

The burly German noble’s words jolted the jubilant Frank nobles from their celebration.

Although they were angered by the German noble’s words, they had to admit his accusations hit their mark. Just half an hour ago, they had indeed resolved to forsake God.

And so, they lowered their heads.

“God does not save flawless saints. Who among us here can claim to be without sin? It is precisely because we bear the weight of our sins that we crossed the seas to come here, is it not?

The Holy See has promised that the moment the Holy Sepulchre is returned to the Lord of Heaven, all sins will be washed clean. The instant you enter the Holy City, your souls will be destined for Heaven,” Eric said, looking toward the Frank nobles.

“I have no desire to see these spineless worms in Heaven. It would be the greatest insult to the truly devout. If I ever get to see God, I’ll be sure to give Him a piece of my mind!” The German noble spat in their direction, then fixed Eric with a sharp gaze. “And will you be in Heaven, you Spider of Normandy? I have heard of you. You are a formidable warrior, but you are still no different from these weaklings. I don’t want your praise, full of its flowery words!

Do you not know that a warrior of the Lord of Heaven should speak to Heretics with a sword, not his mouth? You should have entered this place as a Conqueror, bringing the baptism of the Father in Heaven, not as a groveling toady, compromising with these Heretics to buy our pathetic survival!

If walking out of here means owing my freedom to Heretics, I would rather die in this prison as a Christian Warrior. That would be my glory.”

The other Frank nobles’ faces instantly turned deathly pale, terrified that this Teutonic Barbarian would anger the well-intentioned noble who had come to rescue them.

Eric’s arrival was an incredible stroke of luck. They wouldn’t have to write to their families back in Europe to beg for their lives, families who had seen them off as heroes when they first departed.

“You should at least state your name before you insult someone. I don’t wish to waste my breath on a nobody,” Eric said with a smile.

“My name is Sven, Lord of Holstein.”

Sven walked toward Eric. Turandot signaled to a few guards, who immediately thrust out their long spears to block Sven’s path.

However, Eric waved his hand, gesturing for the guards to step aside.

“All I know is that you dying here does nothing to help retake the Holy Sepulchre.

No one is better suited for the role of Conqueror than the Normans. The armies of England have traveled from Constantinople to Antioch with barely a scratch. We have close to five thousand Knights and twenty thousand Infantry.

We landed in Cilicia only four months ago. While you have been imprisoned, we have conquered all the coastal lands from Cilicia to Antioch and restored the shipping routes along the Anatolian coast.”

The moment Eric finished speaking, his words set off an explosion among the nobles.

“God, what am I hearing!”

“What in God’s name have we been doing?”

“…”

“This expedition is the will of God,” Eric continued. “God is always watching, and He does not spare His blessings for those He favors. And you? You led fewer than three hundred knights to attack a city garrisoned by ten thousand men.”

“We fought with valor and did not yield! We beat them back three times. They were terrified!” Sven’s expression soured.

“Terrified? Only thirty-odd of you are still alive. I doubt you scared them very much.” Eric patted Sven on the shoulder. “As for a man of mixed Danish and Saxon blood barking at me, I feel I must remind him that the bond between the Franks and Christ was forged six hundred years ago. Just two centuries ago, the Saxons were still worshiping a Forest God. And half a century ago, the deeds of the Danish were hardly more noble than those of the Saracens. Let’s leave it at that. If you wish to expend your energy on cities unrelated to Jerusalem, then I will respect your choice.

But I trust that rational Franks will not make such a foolish choice—unless they believe that ignoring the call of the Lord of Heaven in Jerusalem can be considered true devotion.

The Lord of Heaven, speaking through His Holiness the Pope, summoned us to the East not merely to skirmish with Heretics. In fact, all of you know this, don’t you? Otherwise, wouldn’t it have been a better choice to remain in Constantinople and die reclaiming the ancestral lands of the Greeks, our brethren in faith?”

“Am I wrong, my lords?” Eric asked, looking at the Frank nobles in the hall.

“Yes, we agree with you!”

“We must go to Jerusalem!”

“The Lord of Heaven calls to us in Jerusalem!”

“…”

Seeing that Sven had no response, Eric ignored him and instructed Turandot to return the nobles’ equipment and banners. The nobles quickly put themselves in order and followed Eric, preparing to leave the city. As for Yuge, whom Eric had knocked unconscious earlier, Turandot had him carried out on a stretcher.

Incidentally, Suleiman Shah had known all along that Yuge was a Prince of the Frank Kingdom, the younger brother of the current King of the Franks. One of Yuge’s Knights had revealed his identity immediately upon capture. This Knight had been appointed by the Regent Queen Mother to prevent her son from dying of his own foolishness. The Knight had already set off to return to the Frank Kingdom and ask Yuge’s brother, the King, to raise a ransom for his idiotic sibling. Therefore, Yuge’s so-called “brutal torture” was merely a pretense, designed to frighten the other nobles.

Suleiman Shah had shared this information with Eric as a show of good faith. Eric, however, suggested that when the Frank Knight returned to the East to ransom Prince Yuge, Suleiman Shah should by all means accept and keep the ransom. Suleiman, though stunned, readily agreed.

Released along with the Frank nobles were their attendants and just under a hundred pilgrims who had followed them. They had been barely surviving as slaves in Antioch for more than a year.

These were all the captives remaining in Antioch; the rest had already been sold off to other regions. Suleiman Shah claimed he would order the other cities under his rule to return these Christians, but Eric knew this was mere lip service.

The next time he and Suleiman Shah met, it was hard to say whether they would be friends or enemies.

In addition to the prisoners’ release, Suleiman Shah also granted Eric several castles he temporarily occupied south of Antioch, near Tripoli. He also provided Eric and his party with thirty carts of grain and fresh water.

This was because as they marched further south, God’s Warriors would face not only harassment from the Turkic Cavalry Archers but also the harsh environment of southern Syria—a dry, rugged, and barren land utterly unlike Europe.

Of course, Suleiman’s goodwill came at a price. In return, Eric had to give back all the gold, and also keep Tutush occupied on behalf of Suleiman Shah, preventing him from attacking Antioch.