A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

”Then that solves the problem,” said Abdullah.

”What?” Yajisiyan asked, stunned.

”I can have a group of people stoned to death, but they don’t have to be Shiite Believers,” said Abdullah.

”Perhaps there’s no need for such extremes. I’d rather not kill too many people if I can help it. My child was just born, and a Christian ascetic offered me a blessing that year,” Yajisiyan mentioned.

To this day, he still didn’t know who to credit for the birth of his son, because he had sought help from every mystical power he could find.

”You’ll need to resort to it sooner or later.”

A sudden, violent crash echoed from the courtyard, and Abdullah poked his head out the window again to look.

He had to lean far forward to see what was happening below. Even here, forty feet up the High Tower, the castle walls were nearly five feet thick.

A cavalryman in full Zha Armor had just charged a wooden target in the courtyard. His Long Spear slammed into the Wooden Shield, and the entire apparatus collapsed with a crash.

”Your nephew is just playing around,” Abdullah said, straightening up and turning to Yajisiyan.

”My nephew and his friends are practicing,” Yajisiyan corrected. ”Practicing how to become worthy warriors.”

”But that’s no longer necessary, is it? He’s destined to leave this place. This place doesn’t belong to him anymore. Maybe in the past, but now...” Abdullah shook his head.

”...” Yajisiyan grew visibly annoyed.

Three years ago, his nephew had been his designated heir. No one expected that right after the designation, his own son would be born.

Now, his nephew seemed somewhat out of place in Hama.

”Perhaps...”

Just as Yajisiyan was about to say something, the chamber door was thrown open, slamming loudly against the wall.

”Ahmed? Has the riot been sup—” Yajisiyan began to ask.

But before Yajisiyan could finish his sentence, Ahmed had latched onto his leg.

Ahmed wailed, rubbing snot and tears all over Yajisiyan’s trousers. ”G-Governor, L-Lord... Lord Balha... has returned to the embrace of Allah...”

”What happened?” Yajisiyan asked.

”We... we were ambushed! We thought it was just a mob, but... it was an army! A massive army!” Ahmed cried, clinging to the leg and wailing even harder, as if about to dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Ahmed let go of Yajisiyan, bowed his head, and began to recount what sounded like an epic tragedy. ”Governor, the situation is terribly complicated, and it all happened so suddenly. We were ambushed by Heretics outside the village. The enemy surged forward like a tide, their cavalry as swift as the wind, their numbers so great it was dizzying. Lord Balha remained unruffled, calmly commanding our army to face them. To ensure the main force could retreat safely, he made the decisive choice to engage the enemy vanguard, throwing himself into the fray without a moment’s hesitation.”

He paused, as if savoring the memory of the ”glorious” battle. ”In that moment, the battlefield was ablaze, swords rained down, and Bow and Arrow whistled. Enemies swarmed from all directions, pressing in until we could barely breathe. But Lord Balha was as if forged from steel, never backing down. His eyes held only one conviction—to defend this land and protect his brothers until the very last moment.”

Ahmed took a deep breath, his voice growing heavier. ”The enemy was too strong. Lord Balha fought alone, standing firm like a rock. Thousands of enemies surrounded him, but he still showed no sign of retreating. He wielded his Longsword, staining the battlefield with blood. He repelled every wave of the enemy’s attack, advancing over corpses with every step. Until the very end, he held his ground, trying to buy us time.”

Ahmed’s tone grew increasingly heavy, layered with a theatrical sorrow. ”But... there were too many of them. Lord Balha eventually collapsed from exhaustion. Surrounded by countless enemies, he held on for so long. Despite his peerless courage, the enemy’s merciless Sword finally struck him down. In that moment, his body fell, but his soul continued to burn in the air, a blazing flame. His sacrifice... was for all of us...”

Yajisiyan looked at his soiled trouser leg, his brow deeply furrowed. ”Your words are indeed moving, Ahmed. It sounds like you were right there beside Balha. But... it doesn’t look like you were injured at all?”

”Injured?” Ahmed froze for a moment, then immediately clutched his chest, collapsed to his knees, and reached again for Yajisiyan’s trouser leg. ”Governor, I-I-I was struck in the chest with a heavy hammer! My ribs... my ribs right here...”

Yajisiyan hastily dodged away.

”N-no, I-I wasn’t actually beside Balha. Lord Balha had us retreat first to avoid unnecessary sacrifices.”

”We learned of Lord Balha’s death from one of his Personal Guards who narrowly escaped,” Ahmed said, looking rather awkward as he knelt on the floor. He waved to the soldiers behind him.

Two soldiers carried in Eric, whose face was covered in bandages.

”This brave soldier was blessed by Allah to bring us news of Lord Balha’s valor. I implore you, Governor, to reward him—for Lord Balha, and for all the Warriors of Allah who are willing to fight for Hama,” Ahmed pleaded with Yajisiyan.

Yajisiyan’s attention was immediately drawn to Eric. He sized the man up. ”You’re one of Balha’s Personal Guards? I... I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?”