CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER 56: WINGED CAVALRY, CHARGE

Leonard, driving the carriage, glanced around nervously.

The temperature dropped quickly.

After the desert released all its warmth, the temperature here had fallen to the point where one wished for a thick sheepskin blanket.

The Winged Cavalry indeed did this.

Their equipment included a leopard skin, wolf skin, or bear skin cloak to drape over their armor, which they wore to keep warm.

Ulm held his bear skin cloak, wanting to offer it to Losa, but was refused.

He was not afraid of such cold.

Mastering Blood Magic, he was no longer just an ordinary person.

The evening wind blew past, taking a layer of yellow sand.

Exposing beneath it a skeletal corpse lying supine on the ground, a black scorpion inhabited the eye socket of the skeleton, burrowing deeper.

While driving the carriage, Leonard freed one hand to grasp the silver cross he wore on his chest.

"Heavenly Father above, please bless us, do not let us encounter those heretic robbers. We have only six people capable of fighting, no, actually five people, for I am already too old to wield a sword."

"And Ulm, these three brightly dressed cavalry, were just infantry not long ago. They have never been on the battlefield, it’s impossible for them to be a match for those damned heretics."

Thinking of this, Leonard became increasingly despondent.

He began to regret why he had shown off, taking over the duty of escorting the carriage from his five sergeants.

"Leonard, have you been to Kaler Castle?"

The voice from his Lord, somewhat condescending, reached him.

"Yes, yes, my Lord."

Seeing Leonard so nervous that he couldn’t even speak clearly, Losa found it amusing.

Leonard was undoubtedly a timid person.

But to shield the five soldiers under him from blame for losing the money with him, he stood up bravely at this time.

Human nature is always complex.

"What do you think of Kaler Castle?"

Leonard recollectively said, "Kaler Castle is a magnificent castle, unlike the ramshackle... oh no, but Jorgelisburg indeed cannot compare to it. Count Reynard repaired it sturdily; the troops stationed there are very elite, with towers and catapults all over the walls. It would take ten times the army to conquer it."

Losa chuckled lightly: "Indeed, Kaler Castle, as the core of Count Reynard’s entire domain, should be very tightly guarded, especially since he’s offended Saladin quite a lot, and Kaler Castle is in the eastern border of the Kingdom, always at risk of Saladin’s attack."

He paused slightly and continued:

"Count Reynard’s domain is not far from Jorgelisburg, but his lands are prosperous and fertile, producing salt and warhorses, with hundreds of knights under his command. My domain is so remote that the merchant caravans won’t even visit, with only six villages for knights to be granted as fiefs."

It’s like a siphoning effect.

The little development potential left in Jorgelisburg was all siphoned away by Count Reynard’s domain.

"My lord, you are the Holy Son favored by God, need not be troubled by this desolate place of Jorgelisburg. You will eventually obtain more fertile fiefs; your status is far beyond what Count Reynard can match."

Leonard said flatteringly.

"I told you not to use that title on me again."

Losa paused slightly and continued, "However, what you said is very true, the footsteps of war are nearing, and the fertility of fiefs is no longer important."

For him, Jorgelisburg is merely a stepping stone, a springboard to enhancing his strength.

In the future, Jorgelisburg might just become an insignificant part of his numerous territories and titles.

If it weren’t for the Winged Cavalry Camp and the Lord’s Hall located here, he’d be more inclined to partition this land for loyal subordinate lords.

Losa suddenly raised his head, looking at the falcon gradually descending in the distance.

He raised his hand and signaled, "Prepare for battle; the enemy is very close."

The rolling yellow sand soon appeared on the horizon.

Ulm excitedly gripped the lance in his hand; he looked at his companions, then at Knight Hans, the Cavalry Officer standing in front.

Even though it was his first time on the battlefield, he was not nervous at all.

He raised a hand, drawing a cross in front of himself, then looked back at Losa, whispered a prayer: "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, Amen!"

The people of Jorgelisburg stubbornly believed that Losa was the Holy Son, different from the Heavenly Father but with the divine nature being unified as the Holy Trinity.

Losa donned the chain armor shirt properly, wore the cold barrel helmet, looked at Prajna and Furinjira, and smiled: "Follow me."

Then, he took the lead in spurring his horse forward.

He stood on a small hill with his cavalry, taking a strategic position first.

The figures of the desert raiders gradually became clear in the wind and sand.

They were Fire Worshippers dressed in drab white robes and wearing headscarves.

Their attire had a distinct Bedouin style, riding Arabian horses and camels, equipped with various weapons: riding spears, straight swords, scimitars, bows and arrows, and round shields.

The leader of the raiders had a prominent scar stretching from left to right across his face like a centipede, his mouth adorned with thick black mustache, and his skin bore the rough texture characteristic of the desert nomads.

On his left shoulder, lay a thick layer of leather padding.

A majestic eagle stood proudly aloft.

Losa urged his mount and slowly moved forward.

The raiders stared in awe, and someone raised a bow intending to aim at Losa.

Losa had no regard for the riding bows of the raiders, pressing his right hand on his left shoulder, he spoke in Kurdish:

"I thank you for sparing my soldiers; may I know your name?"

Leonard, who was driving the carriage, was still behind and had not realized that the Holy Son in his mind had actually made the gesture of worshiping the sacred fire of the heretics!

The Winged Cavalry, on the other hand, were oblivious to this.

They merely held their weapons tightly, ready to charge at ten times their number at Losa’s command.

The bandit leader was somewhat surprised, and then he too pressed his hand on his left shoulder: "I am surprised you can speak Kurdish and even know our gestures?"

Losa’s voice came from under the barrel helmet: "That’s because I once fought alongside a great Kurdish knight."

The bandit leader’s face changed slightly, cautiously uttering that name: "Was it Saladin?"

"Of course not."

Losa had no intention to intimidate him by invoking Saladin’s name.

The bandit leader gave Losa a deep look and spoke: "I am Abud, chief of the Billbod Clan and leader of these marauders."

"I am Losa von Habsburg, Lord of Jorgelisburg. You and your men have plundered the wealth I was using to purchase horses, which is an act of treachery."

Abud glanced at his men, and couldn’t help but laugh heartily: "Lord Losa, we Bedouins never care about treachery. Wealth belongs only to the strong."

Under the barrel helmet, Abud and the Bedouin raiders could not see the subtle sneer on Losa’s face.

"You once released my soldiers, and I thank you for that. If you are willing to return my wealth, I will forgive your sins and allow you to settle in my domain."

The raiders burst into laughter.

"Is this guy stupid or what?"

"Now it is we who are forgiving you!"

"We not only robbed your wealth but will rob you a second time!"

Abud, however, felt a twinge of unease and said: "Leave your cargo with me, and I will invite you to drink from my water source."

In the doctrine of the Fire Worship, to invite someone to drink water is to swear by the sacred fire not to threaten one’s personal safety.

"Master!"

Someone quietly reminded: "Their armor is quite valuable as well."

Abud retorted angrily: "Shut up! I make all the decisions here!"

Losa sighed softly: "Sorry, Abud, I cannot cross my bottom line. Since we can’t reach an agreement, we’ll have to fight."

The enemy’s numbers were many, nearly five times theirs.

But Losa wasn’t worried about how to defeat them; he was concerned about not being able to catch them all on the open plains.

"It’s unfortunate; I grant you the right to return to your ranks."

"Thank you."

Abud raised a hand, signaling the already poised Bedouin raiders not to attack yet.

Once Losa returned to his ranks, Abud lowered his hand.

Suddenly, a volley of arrows covered the small hill.

Losa and his men held the high ground; Abud would never initiate the charge first.

This was also the main use of riding bows in this era — for harassment, not for killing.

But Losa had no intention to leverage the terrain advantage; he turned his horse back into the ranks, raised his lance high, and shouted: "Winged Cavalry, charge with me!"

The next moment, those cavalrymen with wings emblazoned on their backs let out a roar, and followed Losa down the hillside like the wind.