Medieval Gacha Lord-Chapter 76: Magic-Resistant Gold

Chapter 76: Magic-Resistant Gold

A moment later, Baldwin IV’s attendant returned from the corridor and handed a slip of paper to Count Raymond. He spread it open, a look of profound astonishment flashing across his face. Then, he held the paper high, signaling for everyone to draw near and look. "His Majesty the King has agreed!"

The great hall fell silent, then cries erupted one after another.

"Long live the king!"

"In the name of the Father, to war!"

"Kill all the infidel whelps!"

After the council session ended, Lothar went immediately to the King’s bedchamber.

Before Lothar could speak, Baldwin IV said, "You also find it very strange, don’t you? But going north is to accord with the will of the people. It’s not just Count Raymond who can see Saladin’s intentions. Raynald, Hugo, Joscelin... they are not fools. Saladin’s intent is obvious, but this isn’t some hidden plot or conspiracy; it’s an overt grand strategy."

Baldwin IV pointed to the chair opposite him, gesturing for Lothar to sit. "Suppose, when you are fighting alongside me, your fief of Jorgklusburg is attacked by infidels. Wouldn’t you feel the urge to immediately lead your soldiers back to rescue Jorgklusburg?"

Lothar was silent. This was human nature. For many, though the safety of the Holy Land was important, it wasn’t as important as their own territories.

"Let those who should return, return. And let those energetic Crusader knights go north. Only by sweeping the court clean can Jerusalem’s strength be better consolidated."

"I understand."

Baldwin IV continued, "Also, I met that as-Salih. That little fellow... although he is many years my senior, I still feel he is a spirited young man full of drive. He told me he has already united with the Armenian mountaineers and is preparing to raise the banner of rebellion against Saladin’s rule. I have also made a pact with him."

"According to our agreement, after Saladin is defeated, I will return Aleppo to him, and we will conclude a non-aggression treaty. This northward campaign is also an opportunity for him. Perhaps he can truly coordinate with us from within and without to retake Aleppo and Antioch. Syria is the most important horse breeding ground for Saladin’s armies. Without Syria, the threat of his Mamluk cavalry will be greatly diminished."

"Let’s hope so." Lothar pondered for a moment, then asked, "Your Majesty, those Hashashins we encountered yesterday, they were able to consume some kind of potion to stimulate their potential and greatly increase their combat power... Do we not have anything similar?"

"Potions..." Baldwin IV chuckled lightly. "Potions are not far from us. The incense burning in this room, concocted from frankincense and myrrh, can alleviate my symptoms. As for the Hashashin’s kind of potion that stimulates human potential, consuming it often leads to certain death; it is an evil drug that violates the Heavenly Father’s will."

Lothar suddenly understood. "Your Majesty, I’ve actually always had a doubt. Those sorcerers and witches command such mysterious and powerful forces; why would they pledge service to secular monarchs? If they wished to assassinate a king, how would we defend against them?"

Baldwin IV looked somewhat puzzled. "Your two witch ladies haven’t told you?"

Lothar shook his head. Banu and Fringilla were not orthodox witches of this world; the powers they possessed were far more complex than simple magic. Naturally, they wouldn’t know these secrets.

Baldwin IV raised his hand, pointing successively at the gold trim inlaid on the tables and chairs, the golden reliefs on the window frames, the statue of a holy angel on the cabinet...

"These are all artifacts made from Magic-Resistant Gold. It can limit a sorcerer’s magic. Arrows made from Magic-Resistant Gold can even easily pierce their defenses. They do indeed possess formidable power, but the secular world is equally very dangerous for them."

"The vast majority of sorcerers and witches are travelers and potion experts. They travel like ordinary people, using their magically sustained long lives to live as they wish. They are already two entirely different species from humans and thus no longer possess the human craving for power and wealth."

Lothar mused, "So, witches prefer to exist in a detached state, rather than truly throwing themselves into the struggle and killing of the political arena?"

"Correct. That would be too dangerous for them. Or rather, they believe what they would gain is far too little compared to the risks they would undertake." Baldwin IV paused, then added, "As for why they would commit themselves to the service of secular monarchs, perhaps you understand that better than I."

"Love?"

"Yes, but not entirely. For example, materials for making potions, the construction of witch towers, and guards for their own safety... these are all forms of recompense they can obtain from the secular world."

Lothar suddenly understood.

Baldwin IV continued, "There are more witches in this world than you imagine, but you rarely encounter them because they seldom dwell in the mundane world."

***

Leaving the King’s bedchamber, Lothar returned to his post.

Jerusalem today was exceptionally chaotic. After the mobilization order was issued, Jerusalem had already transformed into a large military camp.

Since the decision to go on campaign had been made today, numerous preparations had to be put on the agenda. Nobles had to calculate how many conscripts formed from pilgrims they needed to lead, how many mules and pack animals for transporting baggage, and where they could obtain supplies along the way. Also, there was the departure ceremony... a series of tedious yet unavoidable tasks.

Everyone had to shoulder their responsibilities, coordinating the relationships between these people, rather than simply throwing a group together and forcibly creating an army—it was a complex and meticulous job.

The preparations went on for three full days. By the early morning of the day after, it was time for the grand army to set out and march north.

In early morning Jerusalem, the temperature began to rise. Lothar was in the stables, grooming the coats of his warhorse and Arabian horses with a brush. As-Salih had sent ten fine, tall Arabian horses, all of which were now housed in the Royal Knights’ stables, cared for by dedicated grooms.

Fringilla, on her tiptoes, worried about water splashing onto her pretty long skirt—in the royal palace, this beauty-loving young lady finally no longer needed to wear a face cloth, though her snow-white hair still needed to be covered somewhat.

She lifted her skirt hem and twirled before Lothar. "Milord, do you think my dress is pretty?"

Lothar gave a perfunctory nod. "Mm-hmm, pretty. I’ve seen Princess Sibylla wear something similar, but she looked far less noble and beautiful than you."

Lothar’s perfunctory praise wasn’t merely perfunctory. He would quickly organize a passable set of complimentary words in his mind, which meant his casual remarks rarely incurred Fringilla’s displeasure.

"Hmph, can that old woman who’s already had a child compare to this princess?" Fringilla’s lips curled up irrepressibly, her face beaming with unconcealed delight.

Banu picked up a brush, drew near, and helped Lothar groom the warhorses. She said, "Moder sent a letter. Marlus the Blacksmith found a deposit of good quality iron ore near Hans’s fief. He hopes we can procure some tools and equipment and send them back."

Lothar frowned tightly and shook his head. "Let’s put that aside for now. Have them prepare for war and be ready to respond to my summons at any time. To be honest, I’m not confident I can defend the villages around Jorgklusburg. It’s too early to start mining now."

Banu shook her head and continued to groom the warhorse. "Go tell Hans yourself. I’m just relaying the message."

Lothar paused, then smiled. "Alright, understood." He thought for a moment, then reached out and wiped a smudge of dirty water from Banu’s cheek, saying sincerely, "You are also very beautiful today. Even without much adornment, you still surpass all other women in this world by far."

Banu remained expressionless but uncharacteristically asked, "Compared to this little vampire? Who is prettier?"

Fringilla keenly caught the keywords and sidled over. "Yes, Milord! You be the judge! Between me and this big dummy, who is prettier?"

Lothar’s hands didn’t stop moving, but his heart was suddenly filled with dread. This was a life-or-death question. Only a fool would ever answer that.

No, even the fools know better.

Just then, Hans’s shout rang out: "Milord, it’s time to depart for the send-off ceremony! We must stand innermost as His Majesty the King’s guards!"

Lothar hastily responded, "Alright, coming right away!"

’Thank the Heavenly Father! Thank you, Hans! Thank you, His Majesty the King!’

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