Medieval Gacha Lord-Chapter 68: The King’s Dignity

Chapter 68: The King’s Dignity

Even if you consider it purely from a benefits perspective, curing Baldwin IV’s leprosy would be more advantageous to Lothar. If he had to wait for a healer retainer from an unknown future card draw, Baldwin IV might not last that long.

So, Lothar made up his mind.

Just then, the room door was pushed open. Fringilla hurried in. She had been outside, thoroughly enjoying watching the training of new recruits. These recruits, using wooden swords and shields, were making a lively clattering sound, which was much much more interesting than the tedious and dull formation drills. freewёbnoνel.com

Fringilla entered the room, sniffed the air, and said with a suspicious look, "I seem to smell the stench of those filthy wolf cubs. Milord, surely you haven’t summoned a wolf cub, have you?"

Lothar was surprised. "You can actually smell it?"

"Yes, though it is very faint." Fringilla twitched her nose, sniffing her way closer until she was right before Lothar. She stared at the crystal vial containing the werewolf bloodline.

"Is it because of the thing in this bottle?" Fringilla was somewhat curious, then suddenly became horrified. "Milord, if you desire a supernatural bloodline, I can give you the First Embrace! Please don’t be momentarily foolish and turn into a werewolf!"

Fringilla’s face was a mask of tragedy, as if Lothar were about to fall into boundless evil, and she herself were a priest earnestly trying to dissuade him from the call of Devil.

"How is it being momentarily foolish? There’s nothing wrong with werewolves."

Seeing Fringilla’s unusual expression, Lothar had no choice but to reassure her, "Relax, it’s not like that. I don’t plan on giving up my human body for the time being."

The mortal enemies of the Blood Court were the various werewolf families of the Two Sicilies. If the Blood Court merely held animosity towards Banu’s ’Hell faction’, then their relationship with the werewolf families of the Two Sicilies was one of sworn, irreconcilable enemies, like Germany and France.

Fringilla let out a long sigh of relief. "That’s a relief. Milord, you must believe me. Werewolves, those stinking filthy mutts, are barbaric and primitive, completely unbefitting of your status and temperament."

Lothar, looking at Fringilla who was uncharacteristically complimenting him, reached out and playfully ruffled her soft white hair. "Since I’ve promised you, I will not go back on my word. There is no need for such nonsense talk."

"Fringilla, you and Banu will accompany me. I need to have an audience with His Majesty the King."

***

Lothar walked through the royal palace in the afternoon, which was somewhat quiet.

The Queen Mothers and Princesses mostly resided in the courts of their own fiefs. The only royal family members who regularly lived in the palace were Princess Sibylla and her son. And even those two spent most of their time on their own lands.

His passage was unimpeded. No one approached to question him. As Grand Master of the Royal Knights, all security within the royal palace was his responsibility. In other words, apart from Baldwin IV, he was, ostensibly, the person of highest status within this palace. If he wished to harm the King, the probability of success would be very high.

The position of Grand Master of the Royal Knights was equivalent to being Baldwin IV’s absolute confidant.

Arriving outside the door to the inner court, Lothar announced himself to an attendant and was soon led into Baldwin IV’s bedchamber.

Beneath the candelabra, Baldwin IV, uncharacteristically not wearing his mask but only a face cloth, was holding a book. He said casually to Lothar, "Baron, have the affairs of the Knightly Order been sorted out?"

His hair had completely fallen out, and his scalp was covered in large patches of wrinkles and scars, looking somewhat frightening.

Lothar forced himself to look away and said in a low voice, "Yes. The Royal Knights can now muster one hundred armored cavalry and three hundred sergeants. As soon as the knights from the various royal domains return with their contingents, we can leave Jerusalem at any time to battle the infidel armies."

"Good, Lothar. One hundred armored cavalry is not a large number, but it is certainly not small either. If utilized properly, it can have a decisive effect." A hint of reminiscence entered Baldwin IV’s voice. "Back then, in the Battle of Montgisard, the armored cavalry I led numbered only five hundred."

With that, he looked at the two ladies behind Lothar. "These two ladies are the witches who follow you, correct? Please be seated, two honored spellcasters."

Lothar gestured for Banu and Fringilla to find chairs and sit. Leprosy was not as contagious as people thought; it had merely been demonized by common folk. Otherwise, there would have long since been no healthy people left in this palace.

"Your Majesty, someone wishes to see you. According to him, he is the son of King Nur al-Din, as-Salih, master of Aleppo and Syria."

"As-Salih? He actually managed to escape from Aleppo? Truly surprising." A rare note of astonishment entered Baldwin IV’s tone. "No problem. I will receive him tomorrow and grant him the courtesy due his station."

Lothar looked at Baldwin IV, hesitated for a moment, then finally said, "Your Majesty, I wish to know, how exactly is your condition?"

Baldwin IV, with some effort, lifted one hand, rolled up his silk sleeve, and revealed an arm completely wrapped in bandages. He said calmly, "The physicians have examined me. The illness is worsening rapidly. I probably don’t have much time left to live."

’As expected...’

Lothar took out the crystal vial, placed it on the table, and said softly, "Milord, this is a potion my witches have prepared for you. There is a high probability it can cure leprosy."

Baldwin IV looked at Lothar in surprise. After a long while, he finally said, "And the price? I know the potions witches concoct always come with a price."

Lothar said in a low voice, "The price is that you will become a werewolf."

"Cure leprosy at the cost of becoming a werewolf..." Baldwin IV sighed deeply. "Lothar, the Church says leprosy is a curse, a punishment for those heavy with sin. I do not believe that, or rather, I do not much believe in the Church. To them, I am not a devout believer. Only I myself know that I am, because the Church cannot represent the will of the Heavenly Father."

"Lothar, I appreciate your kind intentions." Baldwin IV’s smile remained gentle. "I once sought out a witch, attempting to have her cure my illness. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it; it was that I refused her. Her method was to sacrifice the blood of one hundred children to an evil entity in exchange for my metamorphosis. I must admit, I was indeed somewhat tempted by this. That itself was a great wrong."

Lothar said urgently, "How can these two be the same? Concocting this potion does not require taking others’ lives!"

Baldwin IV smiled. "Lothar, for the Kingdom, I have already endured enough. I have lost my hair and beard; my body becomes daily more twisted, too hideous to behold. Now, my only wish is to die in a human body."

Baldwin IV’s expression was very calm, as if all he described was happening to someone else.

"My affairs after death are mostly arranged. After I die, my nephew will succeed the throne, with Queen Sibylla as regent, but her husband will be Balian."

"During the Battle of Montgisard, I once thought I was a king chosen by fate, but... this was a rude awakening." Baldwin smiled. "Lothar, do not see me as someone that is indispensable. I am not as talented as you think. Even if I were given a healthy body, what I could achieve would still be very limited. On the bright side at the very least, while leprosy has taken away my senses, it has also erased my pain."

Lothar fell silent. He knew what kind of suffering lepers had to endure: twisted muscles, atrophied hands and feet, even the five senses continually fading.

It wasn’t just physical pain, but a spiritual torment and agony over one’s progressively decaying body.

Lothar found Baldwin IV’s obsession with remaining human somewhat difficult to understand. In his view, as long as one could live, human identity wasn’t such a crucial thing. In later ages, many people even looked forward to shedding their frail human forms and becoming something else, something better.

"Your Majesty, I only wish to try and persuade you one last time."

Baldwin IV shook his head. He pointed to his own head. "Lothar, you simply cannot imagine what a terrifying thing it would be if a werewolf became the King of Jerusalem. One’s thoughts, one’s desires, all will change with the body. Perhaps one day, I would issue an order to you, wanting to eat a child. At that time, would you still fulfill your oath of loyalty to me?"

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