Loser System and Berserker Me-Chapter 13: The Priest King Descends Upon the Holy City

【Amazing, my host! You totally imprinted yourself on Momoana within such a short time.】

System 12345 cheered in delight. I can’t drag down my host at this critical juncture! It gritted its teeth and stomped its leg.

【My host, I’ll use my internship score to secure some resources for you. These valuable gifts will become the foundation for you to solidify your standing in Momoana’s heart. She’ll be even more interested in you.】

Things are going well anyway. I’m sure my host will repay my internship score several fold.

【Here, accept my gift!】

…

The ships filled with reinforcements and rations arrived at the Golden Horn to resounding cheers that sounded like they were going to jolt the sky down. The Romains were overjoyed.

The Eastern Romain Empire only had their capital, Constantinope, left, so they were heavily reliant on sea transport for their food, clothes, and other necessities. The moment their sea route was blocked, they felt suffocated as if someone was holding them by their throats.

From her coronation, Sultana Momoana had never tried to conceal her ambition of conquering Constantinope.

While her army cornered the Eastern Romain Empire, she built a naval fleet to sever their sea routes. The churches and agricultural fields in Constantinope’s suburbs were burned down. A huge barrack was erected right outside Constantinope’s walls…

She pushed the Eastern Romain Empire to its last leg.

It had been a long time since any ships visited Constantinope. Its people, from Constantin XI down to the ordinary populace, could hardly eat or sleep well.

But today, a few ships cut through the Ottomains’ encirclement in the Bosphorus Strait and entered the Golden Horn?!

If such a thing could happen once, perhaps there might just be a second time, or even a third time? Could this be the turning point for Constantinope, a revelation from their Lord that things were going to get better from this point onward?

Morale in Constantinope reached a new high. All of its people rushed to the harbor and excitedly welcomed the arrival of their reinforcements.

“They look like beggars,” Shu Yichao, who was looking at the Romains gathering at the port from his ship’s deck, murmured under his breath.

The Romains looked emaciated with sickly, yellowish faces. Their clothes were riddled with holes, hardly looking presentable at all. They were in an even worse shape than the merchant’s coolies, let alone his brawny Grassland Horse Archers.

The city was also in tatters. Most of it had been reduced to ruins, except for the few places where people dwelled. Other than its towering city walls, it looked nothing like the legendary ‘City of the World’s Desire’.

As their ships docked at the port, Constantin XI, who had been waiting quite a while for them, quickly tidied up his clothes and walked over.

At the same time, a rites official unfurled a scroll and loudly announced, “Our one and only Augustus, the conqueror chosen by our Lord to rule over the land and the oceans, the master of the invincible army, and the ruler of the Romains welcomes our guest from afar!”

None of these titles were applicable to the Roman emperor anymore, but it didn’t stop Constantin XI from bragging about past glories.

Then, he saw an incredibly dashing young man alighting from the ship.

The young man took a moment to look around the harbor before walking straight past Constantin XI.

“…”

The crowd was dumbstruck. What does this mean?

Shu Yichao failed to recognize Constantin XI as the current Romain emperor.

An old man with white hair, dressed in a faded purple robe and a crown embedded with glass beads instead of jewels… This was very different from the Augustus in his imagination.

“Ey?” Shu Yichao suddenly halted his footsteps upon receiving a notification. He quickly tapped into it. “There’s an update?”

【You have received black pepper, salt, alcohol, sugar…】

A bunch of resources popped out. These were all top-tier luxuries in the Middle Ages.

“I’m rich!” Shu Yichao was so happy that he did a backflip.

These resources could easily fetch him a fortune and solve his financial woes. Otherwise, he might just end up having to rob the Romans while protecting Constantinople.

“I must have triggered the main storyline, receiving so many rewards as soon as I entered the city. Soon, I’ll bring Rome back to the peak of its glory!” Shu Yichao was excited.

“Your Majesty, he’s a Khitan. He doesn’t speak our language. He appears to be a little out of it too,” Madam Marti crossed the plankwood and humbly explained the situation to Constantin XI.

“Ah.” The dazed Constantin XI nodded. All of a sudden, he found the voice familiar and turned over to take a look. “Y-you are…”

Before him was a hardy woman who had survived many hardships, yet her voice evoked memories of a noblewoman from his younger days, a fair lady with faint dimples and skin as smooth as milk.

“Your Majesty, it’s me,” Madam Marti took off the handkerchief covering her face, “Suna.”

Old friends reuniting should have many things to share, yet their words clogged in their throats.

In the end, the downcast Constantin XI said, “I’m sorry, Suna. I wasn’t a qualified emperor.”

“Your Majesty, it isn’t your fault,” Madam Marti tied her handkerchief back to her face as she wistfully replied. “When our predecessors squandered their riches on extravagant bathhouses, they must have thought that the empire was as sturdy and lasting as their granite bathtubs. Who could have thought that such a day would come?”

Constantin XI had nothing to say in response.

A second later, he belatedly grasped a key phrase in what Madam Marti had said.

“Wait, what did you say? Khitan?!”

Khitans from the East? The Priest King?!

Constantin XI’s eyes nearly bulged out.

…

Bam!

Ferocious warriors dragged Pasha Baltoghlu up to Sultana Momoana and forced him down to his knees.

The valiant general looked terrified of Momoana, as huge droplets of sweat dripped from his forehead. His back was soaked through and through.

“Sultana,” he called out with a quivering voice. “I was incompetent and deserve death.”

The officials in the vicinity averted their eyes, knowing that this influential admiral was going to become yet another pitiful soul to die under Sultana Momoana’s blade.

Sultana Momoana impassively rose from her seat and slowly strolled up to Baltoghlu. Looking at the shivering man, she took off her imperial robe and placed it around Baltoghlu.

“You have worked hard,” she said.

“S-Sultana?”

“Today’s failure is my mistake.” Sultana Momoana returned to her seat.

“We have witnessed the valor of our fleet’s warriors today, but it hasn’t been long since we ventured into naval warfare; it can’t be helped that our men are lacking compared to those who have lived on the ocean all their lives. It was naive to think we can build a powerful fleet in six months.

“Pasha Baltoghlu, our defeat today isn’t your fault. You have done plenty well. I shall spare you, so that you’ll have a chance to make amends for today’s defeat.”

“S-Sultana…” Baltoghlu’s tears and snot flowed down. He was too moved to say a word. “I-I…”

“But!” Sultana Momoana’s tone suddenly became much sharper. “You allowed those ships to slip past our encirclement, causing a huge setback to our Holy War. Our enemies will think that this is a revelation from their fake god, and they’ll foolishly resist our warriors with greater fervor. And this is all due to your incompetence!”

“I-I…” Baltoghlu’s mood had just swung all the way up, only to fall to the bottom right after.

“Thus, you have to be punished,” Sultana Momoana said. “Your fortunes will be confiscated to reward the bravest warriors in the upcoming siege. Your ducal position will be rescinded and bestowed to the first warrior to plant our flag in Constantinope. On top of that, you’ll be whipped a hundred times for your poor performance today. If you dare let another ship slip past you…”

Her face suddenly turned menacing.

“You and your clansmen will be sentenced to death. Do you hear me?!”

“Yes, my sultana! Our esteemed ruler, I will be eternally grateful to you for your magnanimity. Your loyal servant will serve you for life!” Baltoghlu thanked Sultana Momoana while he was being dragged out of the imperial tent.

“Hmph!” Sultana Momoana glanced at the other officials with eagle eyes. “Those pitiful heretics are celebrating over their measly victory, but they will soon wallow in despair when our scimitars slit their throats! Relay my orders—we’ll siege Constantinope tomorrow!”

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