Medieval Gacha Lord-Chapter 73: Arrest

Chapter 73: Arrest

The battle ended quickly.

Reality wasn’t "Assassin’s Creed." These Hashashins, specializing in assassination, were not adept at frontal combat.

But before dying, these Hashashins, having consumed an unknown berserk potion, still claimed over ten lives, with Princess Sibylla’s retainers assigned to the Crown Prince suffering the heaviest casualties.

"Milord, if you hadn’t arrived in time, I’m afraid we would all have died at the hands of these despicable assassins!" A Royal Knight holding a kite shield had a look of joyful relief after surviving the ordeal.

Lothar frowned and said, "Don’t let your guard down yet. Notify everyone to heighten their vigilance. Who knows if there are other assassins still lurking in the royal palace."

The wounded lying on the ground were already turning ashen. These assassins’ blades were laced with deadly poison; if wounded, given the medical standards of this era, there was simply no possibility of a cure.

Lothar’s face was grim. The losses visible on site alone amounted to three knights, six squires, and twelve sergeants. Those retainers left by Princess Sibylla to protect Baldwin V were a separate count.

"Have the Inspector come here to collect and prepare the bodies and effects of the deceased." Lothar ordered loudly, "Especially remember to sew the heads and bodies of those who were decapitated back together. They fought bravely and honorably fulfilled their duties; they should ascend gloriously to Heaven."

"Yes, Grand Master!" The members of the Royal Knights looked at Lothar with reverence. They had personally witnessed how those savage and tyrannical Hashashins had met their end at the hands of this Grand Master and his subordinates.

The Franks, still retaining their "barbarian" traditions, had a deep-seated tradition of worshipping strong warriors.

Lothar walked towards the room at the back of the corridor.

"Milord, you cannot go there!" The servants, forced to take up arms to protect the Crown Prince, all tried to block him.

"I am going for an audience with the Crown Prince to confirm His Highness’s safety. Step aside immediately."

’Clang—’ Behind Lothar, Hans’s sharp arming sword was drawn, making the servants tremble. Hans’s performance in the recent battle, in their eyes, was like that of a protagonist knight from a legend, favored by witches and capable of slaying dragons and demons. They knew that even if they all attacked together, they would be no match for Hans alone.

Lothar pushed aside the obstructing servants and strode directly into the room. The room was empty. On numerous iron candelabras, hundreds of white candles burned, brightly illuminating the enclosed room, which had only one small window.

Lothar lowered his head and said respectfully, "Your Highness, I am Lothar von Habsburg, Grand Master of the Royal Knights. The assassins have been purged. Please come out."

The room was silent. Only after an attendant entered and whispered, "Your Highness, rest assured, the enemy has truly been purged. It is the new Grand Master of the Royal Knights who has come," did a small, pale head emerge from beneath a bed draped with white gauze curtains.

The little boy slowly crawled out, tilted his head up, and gazed at Lothar. His body was thin, and his voice trembled slightly, whether from fear or not, his small face deathly pale, but he still tried to puff out his chest. "Thank you for arriving in time, Baron Lothar."

Seeing Baldwin V unharmed, Lothar let out a sigh of relief. Turbulent Jerusalem could not withstand such an ordeal.

"Your Highness, I hope you will move immediately and reside in His Majesty the King’s bedchambers. My Winged Hussars will protect you at every step."

Little Baldwin nodded. "As you wish, Baron."

"We can protect the Crown Prince!" A knight loyal to Princess Sibylla stepped out at this moment, saying with some dissatisfaction, "This is the sacred duty Her Highness the Princess entrusted to us. If we hand His Highness over to you, it will stain our honor."

Hans looked at him coldly. This knight felt an terrifying pressure wash over him, as if from a giant wolf howling at the moon. He subconsciously retreated two steps.

Hans said coldly, "Please comply with the Grand Master’s will."

"Y-yes." The knight hastily agreed. No one else dared to speak.

Lothar picked up little Baldwin and, surrounded by a crowd, walked towards His Majesty the King’s bedchambers.

The knight who had just spoken quickly followed behind him, saying very politely, "Baron Lothar, I must inform my mistress, Her Highness Princess Sibylla. She will reclaim guardianship of the Crown Prince from you at that time."

"Mm, just have her come see me," Lothar nodded. He was currently pondering who was the mastermind behind this attack.

First to be ruled out was Princess Sibylla. Though this princess had a strong desire for power, and in his previous life there were always legends of her conspiring with Guy to murder her own son and seize the throne, right now, doing so would bring her no benefit whatsoever.

(Note: The movie beautified it by saying Baldwin V had leprosy, and Princess Sibylla, not wanting her son to suffer like her brother, ended his life herself; but there is no evidence Baldwin V truly had leprosy, and leprosy is contagious, not hereditary)

She had not yet ascended to the seat of Queen Regent, and if she wanted to act, she had too many opportunities to make little Baldwin die without a sound.

***

Jerusalem. Count Philip’s manor was hosting an evening banquet. Under a rain shelter, plump lambs were roasting over a blazing bonfire. Saracen slave girls swayed their graceful bodies, dancing lightly to the music.

Count Philip raised his wine cup and said to the assembly, "Praise be Heavenly Father above, thank you all for attending this humble banquet I am hosting. Tonight, there is an ample supply of Bordeaux wine and tender lamb! To hell with those damned peas!"

People cheered one after another, thanking the Count for his generosity.

These days, the people of Jerusalem were generally living much harder lives, especially these knights who mostly held empty titles without fiefs or estates. A considerable number of them relied on the "subsidies" from the Knightly Orders to live.

Just then, someone raised his glass and shouted, "To Count Philip! Only Count Philip is worthy of the position of Grand Master! We must ask His Majesty to rescind his order!"

"Indeed! That fellow named Lothar is completely unworthy to be our Grand Master!"

"As long as all of us refuse to obey that newly arrived country baron’s orders, His Majesty will have to consider everyone’s wishes!"

"Right! Just like tonight, my squires and I all chose not to fulfill our duties, because we will not obey the orders of an incompetent Grand Master!"

At this point, the true purpose of this banquet was laid bare.

Some members of the Royal Knights looked uneasy; clearly, unlike the first few people who were Count Philip’s diehard confidants, they were unwilling to go against the King’s will for such petty gains.

For the Royal Knights, loyalty to His Majesty the King was paramount. If even they defied the King’s will, then there would be no loyalty left in all of Jerusalem.

Wouldn’t the so-called Royal Knights become a joke like the Eastern Empire’s Praetorian Guard?

The atmosphere in the venue stagnated. Count Philip’s face looked somewhat grim; the development of events was clearly not proceeding as smoothly as they had imagined.

’These ungrateful bastards!’

Just then—’Dong—’ A melodious bell tone sounded from a Zoroastrian-style minaret, which had a cross affixed to its top. Then, the sound of dense footsteps echoed from not far away.

’Bang—’ The closed main gates of the manor were pushed open.

One by one, heavy infantrymen wielding two-handed axes, with round shields slung on their backs, clad in multi-layered chainmail and red and white surcoats, stormed in, their feet caked with mud.

In their center, a young knight mounted on a warhorse, wearing a black cape, slowly rode out. Rainwater drenched their clothes, making their blades and iron armor gleam even more brightly.

"Who goes there?"

"Halt! This is Count Philip’s private estate! You are trespassing!"

A few drunken knights, not yet grasping the situation, said with a laugh, "Ha, this boy, is he imitating the Eastern Emperors and getting himself a Varangian Guard?"

"A pity! The Eastern Emperors have thousands of Varangian Guards and are still being beaten back repeatedly by the Turks! How many men does he have here? What use can they be?"

The Franks had always looked down on the "weakness" of the Greeks. Although they secretly envied the wealth of the Eastern Empire, these Imperial-style armies, with their lax armaments, which had suffered successive defeats in Asia Minor against the Turkic states in recent years, were not held in high regard by them.

Count Philip taunted, "What is it, boy? Have you come specially to apologize to me?"

Lothar, mounted on his warhorse, paid no attention to these drunken fools. He announced loudly, "Commander Count Philip, for dereliction of duty, and for unauthorized reassignment of personnel leading to the Crown Prince being attacked by the Hashashins, you are hereby stripped of all your official ranks and will be imprisoned in the main jail to await the judgment of the Great Council!"

"Im-impossible!" Count Philip’s face changed dramatically. He stammered, "H-how could it be so coincidental? What happened to His Highness the Crown Prince? Tell me quickly!"

Lothar did not answer his question, his tone icy. "Commander, were the deployments within the royal palace tonight your orders?"

"Y-yes, they were, but..."

"Then no more nonsense. I now suspect you are involved in the assassination attempt on the Crown Prince. Please surrender your resistance immediately, or I will not guarantee your personal safety."

"M-murder the Crown Prince?" Philip’s lips trembled. "I could never possibly be involved! I swear! I swear on the honor of the Welf family!"

Lothar looked around, a cold sneer on his face. "Furthermore, I have a list here. Everyone whose name is called, step forward. I promise that you all will get a fair trial."

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