kingdom of nations

Chapter 331 A Conversation Between "Sir Josephine" and "Sir Arthur"

The moment the knight holding the child looked up, Goru nearly cried out in surprise and delight. Fortunately, a timely glance from the knight stopped him from jumping up. The farmer immediately put his fingers in his mouth to avoid making a sound, and the quill pen in his hand rolled to the ground with a clatter.

The tax official standing nearby felt heartbroken; this was his quill pen.

In this era, pens, paper, and ink were still important assets. Moreover, his quill pen was made of the finest materials, from the goose feathers to the barrel and the nib. Although it wasn't as priceless as those used by lords and kings, it was still worth several roosters and hens. He quickly picked it up, only to see Goru strangely bending over and making a "shh" gesture at him.

At first, he was confused, until Goru mouthed the name. The tax collector was startled and trembled all over. Fortunately, he was bent over at the time. Taking this opportunity, he composed himself and stood up again with a businesslike demeanor, but his movements were still a little stiff.

"Your... name, sir."

“Sir Josephine,” Cesar said with a smile, also giving a pseudonym.

He should have originally been called Josephine, but after regaining his identity, he retained the name Cesar.

The tax collector pushed past Goru, his fingers trembling as he wrote the names of the group in the register. Although he was terrified, he still verified the identities of the people the two knights were with and recorded important information such as their appearance, characteristics, and age.

Cesar simply watched quietly without saying a word—but the Knight Arthur was far more audacious… He probably hadn’t been polite to many people in his life, and of course, we all know who he was—King Richard I of England.

Without any hesitation, he copied the entire record book after the tax official finished writing, and muttered bluntly, "No wonder you want to marry into that group of Venetians."

Merchants are unlikely to be illiterate, fluent in multiple languages, and skilled in calculation and counting; in fact, almost everyone in Venice was a merchant.

It's fair to say that recruiting such a large number of low-ranking officials would be a major headache for the king, even in Paris or London.

In fact, even the Doge of Venice wouldn't have been willing to give up so many people if César hadn't offered a marriage as a bargaining chip.

After reading the booklet, Richard was finally satisfied. The soldier next to him hesitated. Given their current numbers, they should be taken to a nearby city for lodging. But before he could speak, the tax collector rushed forward.

Given this lord's status, it would be suspicious if he didn't have hundreds of people surrounding him. Now he only has a dozen or so attendants. Well, he had heard of the "Shield of the Holy City's" reputation, and the "Seven Days of Mourning" proved that this lord was not just a figurehead. Perhaps this was just a whim of the lord?
Since that's the case, we can't let him leave disappointed. "Let these two gentlemen stay in our apartment."

“And what about you?” Cesar asked.

“We always have a place to stay.” This had never happened before. In any case, these Venetians were officials of Cyprus. Unless it was the king, how could they be expected to give up their rooms if they were just pilgrims and merchants passing through the area?
The tax collector's firm stance silenced the bewildered soldier—perhaps he was indeed an important figure. He stopped trying to stop the Venetians from fawning over the two knights, watched them lead the group to his lodgings, and then busied himself with attending to the next group of travelers.

The houses where the Venetians lived were newly built, but their style and structure felt familiar and welcoming to the Cypriots. Weren't these the "insuras" (apartments) commonly found in Rome?

Compared to the "domes" (multi-courtyard villas) of the nobles, apartments were multi-story buildings for commoners and slaves. These apartments, built on Roman cement and brick foundations, could be up to six stories high. The ground floor was generally used as shops, while the second and third floors were undoubtedly the most comfortable. The higher the floor, the cheaper the price, but the less convenient it was to live in, since there were no elevators or toilets at that time, and everything had to be done by running back and forth on foot.

However, its capacity is quite considerable, and it can comfortably house thirty to fifty people, each with their own room, and their servants can also have a spacious corner to rest in.

A quick-thinking servant had already run back to report the news, and when they arrived at the tax collector's residence, the best second and third floors had already been cleared out.

There were three tax collectors in the village, one in charge and two assistants, who were now waiting in the lobby of the apartment. César thanked them and offered some encouragement and comments on their work.

Those before him were all filled with trepidation and excitement, but as Cesar examined the ledgers and records compiled by these tax officials, Richard had already lost interest and looked away. After enduring the ordeal for about half an hour, his mind was uncontrollably drawn by gravity.

“I’m just wandering around,” he said casually. Cesar, whose attention was drawn to a noticeably abnormally high number, nodded, unaware that Richard had not only left but also taken Lorenz, who was sitting to the side, also dozing off.

“We’re not going to hang out with these ‘priests’,” he said dismissively, then began a thorough inspection of the makeshift palace. “Such a building is rare even in Paris and London. Oh, look what your father has prepared for these people. What is this for?”

The ground floor of the apartment building was originally used as shops, but since the tax officials lived here, they didn't need to do business with anyone, so the ground floor was converted into a public space. The most eye-catching feature was a large dining room with a large table that could seat thirty people at once.

No one was eating, and the table was empty. Richard put Lorenz on it, and Lorenz happily ran around on it.

She wore soft sheepskin boots that made a crisp, clattering sound when they tapped on the table. Lorenz laughed at the sound, and Richard scooped her up as she ran toward him again: "There's still somewhere else to see, little one. Is there a kitchen? Oh, no kitchen."

Originally, apartments in ancient Rome did not have kitchens, in order to avoid causing fires—at that time, stoves used open flames.

But Richard had already spotted two or three small stoves leaning against the corner and a pile of coal briquettes.

The nights in Cyprus were still quite chilly, and tax collectors often used these small coal-burning stoves to add some warmth to their rooms. These stoves were left here to be used to add coal and light a fire before bedtime—Richard and Lorenz played with them enthusiastically for quite a while, their hands, one big and one small, covered in soot, their faces streaked with white and black. Only when Richard finally understood, or rather thought he understood, the purpose of these things did he drop the broken coal and iron stove under the servants' angry but unspoken gazes, and run to the nearby pool to wash his hands.

The pool features a lion's head, a feature very familiar to Venetians. Water flows from the lion's mouth, but instead of being poured directly onto the ground or into a ditch, it flows away through a hidden pipe.

Then Richard played with the plug on top for a while, unable to put it down: "The holes on top are to prevent large things from falling in and causing blockages in the pipes, right?"

He asked, and the tax collector who had caught up could only nod silently. Richard wiped his wet hands on his clothes with a satisfied look, then turned around and picked up Lorenz to walk up the stairs.

Although apartments were originally intended for the poor in ancient Rome, since they were built for tax collectors, Cesar could not have ignored the inconveniences.

The staircases are no longer those narrow, handrail-less wooden ladders, but stone steps that give people a sense of security and stability, just like those in the castle. The handrails are made of olive wood, which, although lacking gilding and carvings, are very sturdy and have a natural beauty. At least, they look very comfortable.

He led Lorenz straight into a room.

Apartment rooms are usually one large room where the owner, family, and servants live together. Sometimes when friends come, they just lay out a blanket on the floor. But here, the room is a suite. The large room is still not divided into a bedroom and a living room, but the small room next door has water pumped up for drinking and cleaning. However, if you want hot water, you still need a servant to bring it up, but this is already quite a good treatment.

Richard walked around as if he were in his own room. Aside from the small room itself, it was unremarkable to him; the books piled on the shelves held no interest. "Put all of these away," he told the servant, "so I don't have nightmares sleeping here tonight."

The tax collector behind him hurriedly caught up, wanting to ask if he needed a rest and if he could bring some cheese and wine.

He wasn't trying to curry favor with the King of England—he didn't know this was Richard I—but the red-haired knight was holding Lorenz, their lord's first child.

Although Lorenz kept chuckling and showed no signs of discomfort, they couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Richard was so tall, and Lorenz was so small; he could almost hold her in his hand.

Richard ignored these people. After walking through the room, he looked at the next room, which had the same layout.

He then followed a faint scent to the end of the corridor, and sure enough, upon opening the door, he found himself in a prayer room, which was also the toilet. "This is truly the treatment of a lord," Richard exclaimed.

Indeed, at this time, people were usually very casual in choosing where to relieve themselves. Needless to say, they would go to the wilderness and forests, and even on the street, they would just find a corner or a place with cover. If it was their own home, ordinary farmers would choose to walk a few steps and relieve themselves in the open space or field outside the house.

Wealthy merchants and nobles would choose chamber pots, which were essentially earthenware or bronze basins. Sometimes they would even perform this important life event in bed and then hand it over to a servant to empty.

Only in castles or palaces can you find elegantly named "prayer rooms." From the outside, they look like small rooms protruding from the wall, with vertical pipes running underneath, and at the very bottom is a latrine, which is regularly cleaned by workers who handle the waste.

Witt had set a trap in a toilet like this when he wanted to kill Cesar. If Cesar had let their plot succeed, they could have said the next day that Cesar was drunk and accidentally fell into the toilet bowl through the hole and drowned.

Although César did not expect such infighting and conflict to occur among the Venetian tax collectors, he still added a cover to the toilet and intentionally made the hole smaller, so that at least an adult man could not squeeze through it.

Richard and Lorenz both showed expressions of disgust.

Although the toilet was cleaned very thoroughly, and there were candles and dried flowers on the windowsill, a toilet is still a toilet; it won't suddenly transform into a fragrant sanctuary.

Richard made a face, grabbed Lorenz, and ran off quickly, leaving his servants or tax collectors to follow him with no choice but to obey.

"My lord, my lord, it's still the same upstairs. There's nothing interesting about the rooms."

The tax collector followed behind, pleading, but Richard wouldn't listen.

As Richard walked over, he noticed that the red-roofed building had a large terrace. He loved being high up; he always felt that being high up was like being a falcon soaring in the sky, with no limitation on his vision or constraint on his body. He could also fully enjoy the fierce mountain winds and fresh air. "Freedom" was no longer a noun at that moment, but a real thing.

And so he ran all the way to the top floor, where the door to the terrace was closed. “I’ll get the key right away,” the tax officer said, looking down at the stairs with a sigh. The key was in their shared dining room—to avoid some unscrupulous people who might sneak onto the terrace during the day when no one was around, hide themselves, and then come down at night to steal money or other valuables.

Richard merely glanced down at the lock, which wasn't even as thick as his finger, reached over, and twisted it off. He heard Lorenz exclaim in delight, "How about that? Am I stronger than your father?"

They had now reached the terrace, where the light was bright enough for Richard to clearly see Lorenz's expression. Children this age rarely hide anything, but Lorenz simply gave a mumbled "hmm" and turned to admire the surrounding scenery.

“You remind me of my ministers, all of them cunning and treacherous fellows,” Richard complained with dissatisfaction.

He knew Lorenz could understand him. In this girl's heart, her father was probably the noblest and greatest knight, incomparable to anyone else. But now, being carried by Richard, she was in a completely unfamiliar place, surrounded by wondrous scenery. She hadn't had enough of it yet. If she directly said that Richard couldn't compare to her father, Richard might take her away (she knew Richard's status was no less than her father's). So, she adopted a rather cunning attitude, avoiding the topic altogether.

Richard was ruthless in criticizing others, but he himself was equally adept at deception.

After Cesar finished examining the tax collectors, he went up to the second floor with a candle in hand and saw a peaceful scene. Richard was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, opposite Lorenz, with a chessboard in between. Richard seemed to be trying to teach Lorenz how to play chess, but no matter how smart Lorenz was, he was not smart enough to understand such complex rules immediately.

She preferred to knock down the chess pieces one by one, and eventually Richard joined her in doing so. Cesar couldn't help but smile when he saw this—he ordered grape juice, some roast meat, vegetable soup, bread, and cheese to be brought over. The roast meat was mainly for Richard, as knights have high requirements for calories and protein—for Richard, it was already pitiful enough that he couldn't drink alcohol because of Lorenz; if he didn't even have meat, that would be torture.

Afterwards, Cesar took over Lorenz's work, played chess with Richard for a while, and only took his leave when the moon was high in the sky, carrying the fast-sleeping Lorenz back to his room.

"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" César asked during breakfast the next morning—would you like to visit the sacred sites? Or perhaps see the rock candy workshop, or the market?

Since he reduced taxes for merchants, they have flocked to the island, which has led to the establishment of many permanent markets—markets that are open all the time, rather than those that only exist at certain times. The markets are filled with countless and diverse items—the seeds of the watermelon were found here.

“If I could,” Richard said, “I would like to see that one-armed official.”

"An official? He's not an official."

"Is he in charge?"

"Not at all."

"If I had to say, he was my piper, the eyes and ears I placed in this village and the surrounding area."

Richard glanced at César in surprise. Although as a king he could tell at a glance what the so-called piper did, he was still pleased that César hadn't hidden anything from him.

"Will it cause any problems?"

“It’s not an obstacle.” Since he dared to tell Richard about the duties of the piper, it meant that this information was not worth keeping secret. Besides, Goru was only the piper in the open, and even those closest to Cesar didn’t know how many hidden pipers there were or where they were.

Their journey was uneventful; they walked in the thin mist of dawn, breathing in the slightly damp air, their gaze sweeping over the neat grape trellises, looking towards the distant woods, the silvery stream, and the chirping birds—it was truly a delightful experience.

By the time they could see the cabin, Lorenz had become impatient. She had recently learned to walk and was extremely enthusiastic about it. Cesar looked around and listened to the sounds around him for a while before putting her down. As soon as he put her down, she ran towards the grape trellis.

In November, the grapes had already been harvested and the vines had been pruned. The servants ran over, but Lorenz was small, so she could walk through the grape trellis while the servants could not. However, they could still see Lorenz's stumbling figure at a glance, so they were not too alarmed.

As Cesar continued walking with Richard, he spoke to him about the Third Crusade. "...I thought you were busy lobbying other monarchs and the Pope of Rome, and that I wouldn't see you again until the Third Crusade."

“I am indeed doing this, and I am giving it my all, but tell me, is dealing with those guys really this troublesome? They are all clearly willing, yet they are as reserved as princesses in a tower, unwilling to step out of their rooms or even peek out at the knights who have been waiting for them for so long,” Richard complained. The Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I, King Philip II of France, and Pope Lucius III all wanted to launch a holy war—but none of them were willing to speak first.

Frederick the Holy Roman Emperor was a devout believer—at least outwardly—but this did not prevent him from having several fierce conflicts with the Roman Catholic Church—he was the only one to have killed more than two thousand clergy members at his own coronation ceremony…

His ambitions were great enough; he always wanted to annex the whole of Italy. But whether it was to clear his name or to intimidate the Pope and the Italians, there was nothing better than a grand expedition.

As for Philip II... he was somewhat similar to Baldwin before him. He also ascended the throne at the same age as Baldwin. Louis VII was a fanatic, while Philip II was much more composed.

But as a young king, he only controlled France and a small part of the surrounding territory. He not only had to deal with powerful ministers at home, but also his arch-enemy abroad—England.

Although Richard and he had a good relationship before, and were even allies, Richard would not simply hand over large territories in northern France, such as Normandy, Anjou, Maine, and Touraine, to him without any compensation.

He needs soldiers, the support of nobles, and a lot of money, but these things don't just fall from the sky.

Now he only has Adèle of Champagne by his side, but his relative, the Count of Champagne, is also a great nobleman, and of course he cannot sit idly by and watch the royal power be consolidated.

So his choice was no different from Baldwin's back then. He also needed to gain a voice through a resounding victory. And this enemy could not be the nobles around him, nor could it be the King of England—he had no reason or power to deal with a monster like Richard. All that was left was holy war.

In the name of God, he can possess the greatest power.

At the meeting, in the tent, or in the hall of the council chamber, any noble who raised the cross on this issue would inevitably have to obey the king and the commander's orders. Even if this battle could not fulfill his long-cherished wish, it would at least give him a chance to catch his breath.

Lucius III, the successor to Alexander III and the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church, needs no further explanation. He had no outstanding talents and was already very old. This is typical of the Popes; a young pope simply cannot ascend to the throne. The power of the pope is too great and too concentrated. If he were to remain in this position for too long, he could easily turn Rome into his personal fiefdom, at which point all the families would have to be subservient to him. How could the bishops and kings tolerate that?

So even if they used all their wealth to bribe, as long as they were not old enough, the cardinals would never write their names on paper and support them to become pope. Over time, bishops who knew they were not old enough stopped bothering with the effort and money.

And almost every pope has only two things to do after ascending to the throne.

The first thing, of course, is to do everything in one's power to amass wealth and power for oneself, one's illegitimate children, and one's family; the second is to ensure that one can gain fame before and after death, ascend to heaven with unparalleled glory, and even persuade others to canonize one's name.

As mentioned before, Lucius III was also reluctant to give up this opportunity.

Who knows how many more years he can stay on this throne, but if the goal is to bring about the Third Crusade, there is an unavoidable issue – the Cypriot lord, Cesare.

Therefore, Alexander III's excommunication was indeed unexpected by many. No one expected that this old man would make such a desperate gamble in his last few days before his death. He didn't consider how difficult it would be for his successor, nor did he consider that this move might cause the Crusader League in the Mediterranean to disintegrate. He just did his best to make one last profit before going to meet God.

But can you say that Lucius III didn't want Cyprus? Of course he did. Over the past year, his envoys had traveled to Cyprus countless times, using intimidation, threats, and bribery. In the end, the envoys even knelt at Cesar's feet in desperation, kissed his hand, and begged him not to be so stubborn.

He had never seen such a stubborn lord before—the Roman Catholic Church was now in a dilemma; they could not completely abandon Cesare—who had proven himself a capable monarch, and now Cyprus was firmly under his control. Although some ridiculed him for using his own money to bribe the people as an autocratic ruler, he had succeeded nonetheless, and besides, he had converted to the orthodox Church.

What the Roman Catholic Church fears most now is that he will actually become a believer in the orthodox Church—people laugh at their foolishness for pushing such a powerful monarch to the side of the orthodox Church, but they are also unwilling to let Lucius III and other vested interests give up the hope of obtaining Cyprus.

Maybe we can succeed if we try again?

They demanded a gradual reduction in control – initially they wanted the whole of Cyprus, then they were willing to withdraw from secular powers, and finally they said that only Northern Cyprus would be acceptable, and now they have conceded to a few of the most important cities and ports.

Even so, Cesar could not agree that the very policy he had pondered for thousands of days and nights before being implemented in Cyprus was now being carried out precisely because he was the sole master of Cyprus.

Although some territories still belong to the Cypriot nobility, they must also abide by his will and laws. However, the church's demand is to completely cut off a portion of them. How will he explain this to the people in these cities and territories?

How could he explain that all the decrees and promises he had previously issued were now impossible to keep—he would still have to pay taxes, still suffer exploitation, still have to perform inexplicable free labor? Moreover, he could imagine that once the Church gained ownership of those cities, they would immediately demand that the city's residents convert. If they did not convert, the Church would ask the Crusader knights to kill and expel these heretics, and then let the Catholic Church's believers take their place.

Because he had seen the letter César had written, Richard did not spend much money at the Roman Catholic Church, but he was also really tired of these guys' nagging, dragging their feet, and their attitude of wanting something but not wanting to pay any price.

As for the imperial court...

"Whether in Paris or London, people talk more about my wife and unborn child; or Philip II's wife and child; or even the mistress and child of Pope Lucius III. But no one considers the suffering believers who are waiting for us to save them—good heavens, do they expect me to kneel at their feet, kiss their feet, and beg them to go on a campaign?"

César was amused by him; perhaps it really is possible.

Some people describe politicians as gamblers. This is not wrong; those who thrive in politics are adept at making big gains with small investments—using minimal costs to reap maximum benefits.

They had already discerned that Richard was the kind of king who was not good at intrigue but was very skilled at warfare and craved battle. "I can see it," Richard angrily slapped the grape trellis beside him, scattering insects and dew everywhere, "I can see it!" he repeated. Richard was just reckless and simple-minded but not stupid, and besides, he had Eleanor of Aquitaine by his side, "but if I don't do something, I'll go mad."

"That's why you abandoned all your responsibilities and complicated political and national affairs and came all the way to Cyprus."

He was so adept at this kind of thing that he didn't even need to change the name he used.

"But I thought you would travel around Cyprus before coming to see me."

“Hey,” Richard said, perking up again. “Don’t you know? The story of Count Étienne’s adventure in the pig cage has spread all over Europe.”

Count Étienne is a man who is very popular with women, but is also very disliked by his own men.

They hated his debauchery and his unbridled behavior. The priests condemned his lack of piety and his willful actions, but this condemnation also contained a hint of envy. Who wouldn't want to live a life as free and unrestrained as Count Étienne?

Jealousy among men is far more dangerous than among women. Given the chance, they will ridicule any man who is favored by a woman—this time, no one knows who spread the word, but Count Étienne's adventure in the pig cage is almost becoming a regular feature at banquets everywhere.

Now that he knew that Count Etienne had suffered such a fate, Richard was determined not to repeat it. Although he appeared under the name Arthur of Aquitaine, he found the knights stationed there as soon as he landed and told them that he was a friend of the local lord and had come to visit him. So the knights took him all the way from the port to Nicosia.

After meeting César, everything naturally fell into place.

“I see.” Cesar suddenly realized why he had been receiving more visitors lately; they probably didn’t want to be put in a stinking pig cage like Count Étienne to complete the entire audience process.

"But don't worry, the Earl was not affected. On the contrary, he called it a rare experience. Do you know what he compared himself to?"

"What is it compared to?"

"A metaphor for Cleopatra as a man."

César almost couldn't help but laugh. He knew why the count would say that—because Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt, had also been rolled up in a carpet and carried by a merchant to meet Caesar of Rome.

When Count Étienne was imprisoned in a pig cage, his stiff, immobile posture did indeed resemble Cleopatra's, which shows that the Count's optimistic nature remained unchanged.

"But now such voices have subsided, because Philip II has said that if conditions permit, the Earl of Étienne and his brother will accompany him to Arrassa to participate in the Third Crusade. In any case, ridicule should not be directed at such a brave man."

The king made his stance clear, and the people below naturally followed suit and began telling jokes about other people.

"Wow!"

Before Cesar could inquire about what happened next, he suddenly heard a terrible scream. Richard was faster than Cesar; he leaped up and landed right next to Lorenz.

He thought Lorenz had encountered a poisonous snake or an insect, since they had already checked the area and there was no one else around. Unexpectedly, he saw another child who was about the same age as Lorenz.

Lorenz clutched a withered branch tightly in his hand, with a few grapes still clinging to it. These grapes were not fresh, and there were only five or six of them. They were probably hidden under the leaves and missed, or perhaps left behind because they were deemed not worth harvesting.

These shriveled, dark grapes, so unappetizing, weren't even worth a copper coin, let alone on the lord's table. But children are always willing to try and value results—Lorenz yanked it down, and to her surprise, there was a little guard there.

The young guard threw away the branch he was holding—which he may have used to whip Lorenz in the first place—and rushed forward, nearly knocking Lorenz over.

Lorenz had never suffered such a loss before. Even her father sometimes had to give way to her arrogance. She dodged and screamed. The pain had initially frightened her, but now anger had replaced it and completely dominated her mind.

She lunged forward and began fighting with him.

Richard raised his hands high. He had fought the most ferocious enemies, battled scalding grease and excrement, moved boulders, and captured ferocious lions. But now… with those two little lumps rolling around at his feet, he had no way to intervene.

The commotion had alerted Goru and his wife, who were working in the fields. When they rushed over and saw the scene, they turned pale.

Richard finally found an opportunity and lifted the two little ones up, one in each hand. Cesar carefully examined the injuries on both sides. Not bad, although he was ambushed at the beginning, Lorenz managed to turn the tide by relying on his strength and screams.

The other person's face was also covered in bloodstains—a child's fingernails are soft and thin, but sometimes they can be as sharp as swords.

Richard clicked his tongue and handed Lorenz to Cesar, who immediately burst into tears—more out of a desire to complain.

Although the little girl was being held in Richard's arms, she showed no fear. She didn't quite understand these things and didn't know that she might have done something wrong—at first, she thought it was a rabbit or a wild boar, and only when she pounced did she realize it was a person stealing their grapes.

"Alright...alright..." Cesar comforted Lorenz, pressing her little head down, trying his best to hide the smile on his face from her.

Well, that's it—this domineering little guy has finally met his match. "There are always things in this world that don't work the way you think they do," he said, regardless of whether Lorenz understood or not.

Richard didn't know what to do either. Even if the little girl in his arms was three or four years older, he could ask her parents to spank her, but with a child this age, even someone as intelligent as Lorenz, you couldn't reason with her.

Just as Cesar was about to offer forgiveness to the terrified Goru, he heard a rapid sound of hooves.

A powerful warhorse carrying a knight was rapidly approaching from afar. The knights beside them immediately assumed a wary stance, and a mercury-like holy light enveloped everyone. Richard stood up, his eyes fixed intently on the newcomer, a look of eager anticipation on his face. He had long heard of the "Seven Days of Mourning" and had been filled with envy for the knights who had accompanied Cesar at that time—he only regretted that he could not have been by Cesar's side then, to fight alongside him in that bloody and fiery revenge.

So now he has an opportunity?

Unfortunately, no, the man reined in his horse when he was about ten feet away from them and dismounted. As soon as he landed, he knelt on the ground, and the knights rushed to help him up—also to control him. When the man looked up, Cesar immediately recognized him.

"Albon?!"

The news that Albon brought in person must be something extraordinary.

As the knights helped him to Cesar, Albon raised his face, his lips trembling, his eyes filled with tears.

"Your Highness..." Albon cried out in anguish, "Damascus, Damascus has fallen!"

(End of this chapter)