A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Eric’s strategy proved effective. The results of the Third Estate Meeting were surprisingly good.

The citizens ended up donating twenty-two thousand pounds, while the Nobility squeezed out around eight thousand pounds. Even filled with righteous indignation, they couldn’t give any more; they still had their own armies to maintain. The Church contributed about nineteen thousand pounds.

Adding the fifteen thousand pounds contributed by the Jewish Community, a total of sixty-four thousand pounds was raised. This was enough for Robert to recruit and maintain an army of five thousand Mercenaries for over a year.

All that remained was to wait for provisions to be levied and purchased, for the Count of Flanders’s fleet and Lance Soldiers, and for the Genoese Crossbowmen who were still on their way.

「On the training grounds of Rouen Castle.」

With a crisp clang of metal, a simple Swordsmanship duel came to an end.

The Longsword in Eric’s hand knocked his opponent’s away. Its blade came to rest against the man’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

The Knight, kneeling on the ground, pulled back the coif of his Chain Armor, revealing a showy mane of smooth, long hair. He gave it a little shake before raising his hands to Eric in surrender.

The victor was Eric, but he felt no joy in his victory.

He’d been annoyed by the idiot in front of him all day.

”Damn it, can someone explain how a Cultivator’s Swordsmanship is this good? Truly worthy of the Outville family. I can only imagine how powerful Robert Guiscard himself must be.”

”He could probably tear the Heretics on Sicily Island to shreds with his bare hands.”

Belem got to his feet, muttering to himself.

He wiped the blood from his cheek with a finger, then licked the blood off his thumb.

Completely unconcerned with his loss, he walked briskly over to Eric and clapped him on the shoulder with a light laugh.

Robert Belem, a noble whose moral standards were incredibly flexible when it came to both the Nobility and commoners.

And a chatterbox, to boot.

”What does family have to do with it?”

Eric’s head ached just hearing that name. This chatterbox brought it up in front of him every single day.

Fortunately, the man didn’t get along with Odo, which meant he was still useful.

Eric didn’t want to have a falling out with him just yet.

”You don’t seem very happy with your great father.”

The slow-witted Belem had finally noticed the strange tone in Eric’s words.

”I recall you came to help Robert in a personal capacity. Your father, Roger de Montgomery, is still at the King’s Court, choosing to serve the King.”

”Yeah, that old bastard only cares about his own patch of land now. He doesn’t give a damn if it means being an old dog on a leash. He thoroughly enjoys being the King’s sole mouthpiece,” Belem said with a shrug.

”Then we’re in agreement. I hate my father.”

”I really don’t get it. Your father is much greater than mine. He’ll definitely be sung about for generations to come. As his son...”

”As his son, I got nothing. That old man didn’t teach me a single thing. Everything I have, I got on my own. It has absolutely nothing to do with him. He probably wishes he’d just shot me on a wall.”

Eric curled his lip.

”No, no, no, my brother Eric. Your father gave you the most precious thing of all.”

”What?”

”The noble blood in our veins!”

”The noble blood flowing through our bodies grants us character and qualities that commoners can never possess.”

”This is what truly separates us from them! And it’s why only a nobleman can become a Knight!”

Belem seemed incredibly excited, as if this was his area of expertise, and began to ramble on.

”Speaking of which, your knighting ceremony is tomorrow, Eric. I suppose I’m your senior in this knightly business, so how about I tell you about the code a Knight must follow?”

”Fine.” Eric waved his hand in resignation.

If he refused, the guy would just find another topic to drone on about. Eric just hoped dinnertime would come soon.

”Humility, honesty, loyalty, valor, justice, sacrifice, honor, and spirituality. We swear to uphold these noble virtues until death. The most important of these is loyalty. If a Knight is not loyal, then nothing else matters.”

”Every Knight considers it an honor to die in battle for his lord. Any form of harm or betrayal toward one’s lord is considered a disgrace...”

’Hearing this come out of his mouth is wonderfully ironic.’

”Yes, yes, of course,” Eric said, nodding.

Just then, another voice spoke up.

It was a young man about the same age as Belem: Arno Conteville, eldest son of Odo, the Earl of Kent, and also Robert’s cousin.

Eric recognized him. He’d seen him with Robert back in Hereford.

”When making a promise to one’s lord, one must also keep six adjectives in mind: safe, reliable, decent, beneficial, convenient, and possible.”

”Safe: do not harm your lord’s body. Reliable: do not reveal your lord’s secrets.”

”Decent: do not undermine your lord’s justice or honor. Beneficial: do not damage your lord’s possessions.”

”Convenient and possible: do not create difficulties for any good deeds your lord might possibly undertake.”

”All Knights must remember the above, unless...”

”Unless?”

”Unless the lady of the house is too beautiful,” Arno said with a playful smile.

”Hahahaha, exactly!” Belem slung an arm over Arno’s shoulder and laughed heartily.

Arno was completely different from his father. He couldn’t care less about power and prestige. Despite his noble birth, he had the air of a common street tough.

Pretending to be a thief, posing as a robber, hanging out in brothels—he’d done everything a common ruffian or scoundrel would do.

His shameful acts weren’t for Money, but simply for the fun of it.

So unlike Belem, he didn’t go out of his way to torment commoners; he preferred to mingle with them, as if they were his playthings.

Robert often hung out with him, and it was hard to tell which of them was the bad influence.

”Is the ending of Lancelot and Guinevere something to be envied?”

Eric took off his Chain Armor and set it on a nearby table.

”Love is beautiful precisely because it is broken, my dear Priest Eric. Just like David and Bathsheba.”

Arno patted Eric’s shoulder, signaling him not to take it all so seriously.

”If you ask me, you need a change of perspective. Cast aside your stuffy, boring world and embrace the love and desire that belong to a Knight.”

”Then it’s my treat! To the Rouen bathhouse! We’re not leaving until we’re drunk!” Belem immediately shouted.

He was clearly very enthusiastic about the idea.

Eric hadn’t even finished his refusal before they were half-carrying, half-dragging him out of the castle.