Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 616 - 388: Storybook (Happy New Year)

"May Heavenly Father bless you, lord."

Richard looked at Losa, who brushed past him, and at the army that he had long felt was extraordinary. Today, having seen them in action, he felt even more that they were an elite force rare in the world. How long has this fellow been in the Holy Land?

Even with the many witches supporting him, to train such an elite force from scratch must be a difficult task, isn't it?

The Captain of the Count's Guard following closely behind frowned and said, "Even during the march, Losa's army maintains perfect order. No wonder the Eastern lords all call Losa a genius in military training. Your Majesty, if we could get hold of their drill manual, it would be great."

Richard nodded in agreement: "Indeed, pay close attention to this matter. After we return, discreetly investigate further."

After saying this, he turned to the young witch beside him, Martha: "Martha, you've seen the battle just now. What do you think of the casters around our lord Losa?"

Martha's delicate face was full of seriousness as she earnestly advised, "Your Majesty, I advise you not to make an enemy of these lords, at least... until Her Majesty the Queen arrives, it's best not to do so."

Crossing trades is like crossing mountains.

Although Richard possessed extraordinary power, he wasn't a true caster like Martha.

His prowess relied on innate divine power, martial skill, magic potions, and treasures to elevate.

His combat strength at the extraordinary level might not be weak—he could even kill many casters with a high level of magic proficiency—but his insight was much shallower.

She suspected greatly that the army of the dead that appeared later had a definite connection with that cold-faced beauty beside Losa, but she had no evidence. If she rashly pointed it out, she feared Richard would conflict with Losa again.

Moreover, from the bottom of her heart, she didn't really think a caster who practiced undead magic was that heinous.

To be honest, which caster hasn't done something desecrating to the sacred?

Just the anatomy course opened by Her Majesty the Queen constitutes a grave sin of desecrating the dead.

Richard sighed, "Of course, I know this; otherwise, I wouldn't have yielded."

To think that Richard, noble as the King of Albion and half of Gaul's lands' monarch, with such revered status, was forced to yield to a mere marquis upon coming to the East.

"I wish I had such a formidable army."

Richard felt a tinge of envy.

Though the Saracen army was not weak—in particular, those few hundred armored Mamluks had combat prowess on par with knights from Europe—they were inferior in overall capability.

But faced with Losa's army, they were utterly vulnerable like a child.

Even looking across the entirety of Europe, this was a top-tier elite force. Moreover, under Losa's command, there were a thousand such soldiers!

Fuller whispered, "Your Majesty's Inner Guard is in no way inferior to them. If the Inner Guard were complete, and their mounts replaced with the steeds that have drunk magic potions and have a mutual understanding, they could effortlessly crush the enemy, even those dead cavalry."

Richard chuckled bitterly, "Yes, but while the Inner Guard is strong, they are too few in number; in battle, they can only serve as the blade but can't crash through the enemy like Marquis Losa's cavalry, like a torrent."

Richard's Inner Guard, though numerous, was limited to just under two hundred by the teleportation array.

He couldn't help but wonder: if this army was truly trained by Losa and not just assembled by drinking potions, that would be terrifying.

"I heard that Anna of Constantinople concocted a thousand troops that had drunk magic potions for her family Empress. On the Sicilian battlefield, they decisively defeated the Duke of the Outville Family. If it weren't for the Outville Family inviting a formidable caster, they would have long been retaken by the Greeks."

Western European monarchs in terms of financial resources, are far inferior to their Eastern counterparts.

Moreover, many materials for concocting magic potions are costly spices imported from the East, such as frankincense and myrrh, many magic secret contracts and rituals require their use.

Although Western Europe also has many resources that are hard to find in the East, even though these Western specialties like "oak acorns," "ghost brains," "Inferior Ghost Tongue" can't fetch high prices, even when they do, when compared with the financial prowess of Eastern monarchs, European monarchs have no chance of winning.

Fuller couldn't help but lament, "Only in a few years, the world seems to have changed drastically. Is it possible that in future battles, both sides array their armies and let the casters fight at the front? Whichever side has stronger casters wins? And since most mages are women, will knights become obsolete, and will the lords have to enfeoff their lands to witches?"

Martha frowned and said, "If they're normal Casters, unless absolutely necessary, who would willingly fall into a battle formation to fight for others? The Wizards invited by Her Majesty the Queen are willing to mix magic potions and research texts, but if you truly send them to the battlefield, they'd probably turn around and run."

Wizards value their lives, and unless they are deeply bound or have an overly high opinion of themselves, where would they easily fight for secular Monarchs?

Richard pondered for a moment and then sneered, "But you're not wrong, the times have indeed changed—ever since the Emperor from the Hohenstaufen Family set up the first Wizard Tower in Aachen."

Richard understood these Casters well, though most kept to themselves, it was certainly not out of genuine intent.

Being able to hide away in a splendid palace, with attendants for all needs, and having whatever Casting Materials they desire, who would be willing to live like a savage? Casters are also human, and people cannot escape their human nature!

The power and wealth controlled by secular Monarchs are absolutely not dismissible by Casters.

Furthermore, no matter how strong a Caster is, sometimes, all it takes is an arrow made of Demon-Blocking Gold to end their life.

In Richard's view, although Casters are strong, they are certainly not invincible, nor can they replace the Knightly class.

Richard became serious and cautioned Fuller: "In any case, we must learn from this battle. These Saracens were bullied by Losa's Extraordinary Power for so long, they should have learned by now, but I didn't consider this aspect enough—it was my oversight."

Richard mused, it was true he underestimated the Saracen Lords earlier.

After all, the image of Saracens as poor warriors is deeply rooted in the minds of the Franks. Usually, when they won against the Crusaders, it was mostly because they outnumbered them or took advantage of the local terrain. The Crusaders came from afar, were exhausted, with troubled supplies, yet often defeated the Saracens badly, which is quite telling.

Moreover, the Casters from the East indeed have little reputation, in the Extraordinary layer. Only the Levant Wizard Association barely caught his attention, yet he didn't expect that just a minor, unknown Saracen Lord today would have not only an elite cavalry under him but also a not-so-weak Caster aiding him.

By that count, doesn't Saladin's force include several Legendary Mages as well?

Fuller suddenly spoke: "Your Majesty, what about our soldiers?"

Looking up, those unruly Crusaders, eager to capture the enemy city and plunder extensively, were not low in morale even when the spoils seemed snatched away by Losa. Instead, they excitedly discussed.

"The Saracens are really wealthy. I stripped a complete set of armor off a dead man; just need to find an armor craftsman to remodel it and it can be kept for myself."

"Marquis Losa's cavalry is truly remarkable; could those legends be true?"

"Apparently, they really might be!"

"Today, we've fought with the Army of the Dead; I even chopped off a skeleton's head myself, doesn't that make me somewhat like a Demon Hunter?"

"Yes, that's right, we've killed quite a few in the Army of the Dead, just like Van Helsing as a Demon Hunter!"

The soldiers excitedly chatted, their hands and the pack animals were loaded with spoils, though there were few injuries, it was actually a fruitful haul, just that Richard was too proud to care about the gains from these spoils.

"Demon Hunter?"

Richard was a bit puzzled; he had heard of Demon Hunters, only a group of poor souls who sealed Demons within themselves to barely gain a shred of Extraordinary Power, those who engaged in this occupation rarely lived long.

Moreover, even though some skilled individuals came from the Demon Hunters, they were never regarded highly by mainstream Casters.

These unruly fighters, rather than thinking about becoming Lords or Dukes, why were their words seemingly elevating the scarcely seen Demon Hunters in Western Europe?

Fuller explained: "Your Majesty, you might not know, but recently an Eastern storybook has become very popular, and the Army of the Dead cavalry that just appeared coincidentally resembles the 'Wild Hunt' cavalry described in the story, and it vanished after hunting the Undead Army. So, the soldiers believe this storybook is not merely a storybook, and the events described might truly be happening."

"Storybook?"

Richard frowned: "That could indeed be possible."

In Western Europe, many legends are not without basis; King Arthur, the Sword in the Stone, the Lady of the Lake...these were popular at one time, scripts sung to death by minstrels were verified in his time, weren't they?

"Let's go back to Damietta, Martha, let's carefully study this so-called storybook together."