Medieval Gacha Lord
Chapter 92: Return to Jorgklusburg

Chapter 92: Return to Jorgklusburg

Chapter 92: Return to Jorgklusburg

Jorgklusburg.

Looking down upon the land from the topmost tower of the castle, one saw a vast, indistinct expanse. The river valley, like a fissure in the earth, crisscrossed the landscape—the timeworn trace left by the Jordan River changing its course.

Dust kicked up by two lightly equipped riders was rapidly approaching the castle.

The guard in the tower immediately shouted, "Someone is coming! Perhaps a messenger from Milord! Send men to inquire of their identity and open the city gate!"

Jorgklusburg’s geographical position was quite advantageous; the surrounding area was flat, and if a large army were to attack, it could not possibly escape the notice of the guards in the tower.

Just two lightly equipped riders were clearly not approaching with malicious intent.

***

A clamor arose below. Castellan Moder, wearing a red and white surcoat, listened to the guard’s report and said with some confusion, "Messengers from Kerak Castle? We have little contact with Kerak. Let them in."

The iron portcullis creaked as it was raised. Thanks to the cool relationship between Lothar and Count Raynald, despite being neighbors, contact and communication between the two places were scarce. Jorgklusburg, far from the trade routes, had not received outside visitors for a long time.

The two messengers walked in, somewhat apprehensive. After a moment’s hesitation, they still saluted Moder. "Excuse me, are you the castellan of Jorgklusburg?" View the correct content at NovelFire)

"Correct. State your purpose, messengers from Kerak," Moder said, looking at the two messengers with a cold expression, clearly not expecting any good news to find him.

The two messengers exchanged glances. This wasn’t their first time in Jorgklusburg, but the place was clearly entirely different from before.

Those sturdy, brand-new stone walls, the towers rising from the top, equipped with trebuchets, and inside, that towering fortress-like building, as well as this luxurious, all-stone Lord’s Hall—it was completely different from the dilapidated little castle of yesteryear.

This castle, apart from being somewhat smaller in scale, seemed no less impressive in its adornments and sturdiness than Kerak Castle, which Count Raynald had spent a fortune to build.

What did this signify? This Baron of Jorgklusburg must have a formidable background and astonishing financial resources!

Therefore, the message they were originally meant to deliver had now become an offensive errand.

After hesitating, one messenger, still trying to maintain his composure, said, "Your Excellency the Castellan, I come under the order of my master, the noble King of the Dead Sea, Lord of Hebron and Oultrejordain, great protector of Kerak, Montreal, and Tafilah, Count Raynald de Châtillon, to request the conscription of all armored sergeants of Jorgklusburg to assist in the defense of Kerak."

"Heh, if I recall correctly, your master’s noble titles do not include ’Baron of Jorgklusburg’?" Moder sneered.

The messenger’s tone grew heavier. "This is Count Raynald’s will! You had best think carefully! If you make the wrong decision, it will only bring trouble to your master!"

The other messenger said angrily, "We treat you with courtesy, yet you are so ungrateful! Offend my master, and be careful we don’t send troops to punish you!"

Moder slammed the table and roared, "Count Raynald’s power is indeed great! He possesses thousands of troops and is one of the most illustrious great lords in the Kingdom of Jerusalem! Moreover, he is cruel and irascible, frequently raiding passing merchant caravans and villages that do business with infidels—many lords fear him! But what has that got to do with me? The army of Jorgklusburg only obeys the orders of my master, Baron Lothar! Let alone a petty messenger like you, even if your master came in person, I still wouldn’t change my answer!"

"Who dares to cause trouble in Jorgklusburg?" A gruff voice sounded opportunely.

A giant, wearing only a pair of shorts, pushed open the door and entered. His bronze upper body was rippling with muscles like marble, and he carried a giant hammer the size of a human head.

The terrifying sense of pressure instantly stunned the two messengers, freezing them in place. ’Could such a person actually exist in this world? The legendary Cyclops of Rhodes must have been just like this!’

"Is it you two?" The giant lowered his head, looking down at these two little specks.

"No, no, no! We were just having a pleasant conversation with His Excellency the Castellan!"

"P-please, don’t kill me! I was just following orders!" Perhaps because the pressure from the giant Marlus was too strong, one of the messengers, who was only about 1.5 meters tall, knelt on the ground with a thud.

Moder sneered. "Heh, Lord Marlus, be so kind as to drag these two poor wretches out. Otherwise, I’m afraid they’ll wet themselves in this holy place."

Marlus nodded. "Gladly."

With that, he grabbed one messenger in each hand and tossed them out the door. The two scrambled up, mounted their horses, and fled Jorgklusburg in a hurry, not even daring to utter a single harsh word.

As for how they would report back, they would naturally embellish the story, thoroughly conveying the cold reception they received at Jorgklusburg to Count Raynald.

As for whether their master would, as a result, provoke this clearly not-to-be-trifled-with Baron of Jorgklusburg? That was evidently not within their consideration.

***

In the empty wilderness, an army of over a thousand men was slowly advancing. They flew the Black Eagle flag and the Jerusalem Cross flag. Red and white surcoats made the entire army appear as a unified whole.

Unlike the northern expedition, heading north meant passing through territories of the Kingdom of Jerusalem all along the way. Moreover, these were mostly coastal regions, the choicest part of the Levant, where supplies could be obtained at any time.

But marching east, apart from one resupply at Bethlehem, the journey was both long and barren, making it difficult to find water and provisions.

Therefore, Baldwin IV had divided the grand army of nearly fifteen thousand men into several columns, advancing in succession to alleviate the pressure on baggage trains and logistics.

Otherwise, this massive army of Jerusalem might very well lose most of its combat effectiveness due to thirst before even encountering the enemy.

They would rendezvous at the city of Montreal, then consolidate all forces and march together on Kerak Castle, which was besieged by Saladin.

Lothar’s Royal Knights formed the first column to depart.

At this moment, he rode at the very front, with Hans beside him. He pointed to the village ahead and smiled. "Hans, this is your fief, Sego. It seems you haven’t been here yet?" Hans’s surname, von Sego, originated from this village.

Hans said with some pique, "Not only have I not been here, I haven’t seen a single copper coin of tax fall into my purse."

Lothar said righteously, "Men turn bad when they have money! I feed you, give you drink, and provide you shelter. What do you need money for? Unless it’s for whoring?" NovelFire

Hans opened his mouth, then sighed lightly. "Milord, you always have a set of crooked arguments to persuade me."

Knights not residing in their fiefs was a commonplace occurrence in Jerusalem. Rather than undertaking large-scale construction and exhausting their finances to build a wooden fort there, it was better to entrust the duty of tax collection to a tax farmer (often a local headman) and take a percentage for themselves.

On every tax collection day, the tax farmer would lead hired warriors to collect taxes.

Lothar looked at Inspector Andrew beside him and inquired, "Andrew, legend says the Saracen courts keep massive Manticores and giant war elephants clad in iron armor. Will we encounter them on the battlefield?"

Inspector Andrew de Porti shook his head. "Milord, this is also my first time facing Saracens in a major engagement. Previously, I’ve only fought some scattered skirmishes. You could ask Richard. Although he’s a civilian official, he has served in the Knightly Order longer than I have; perhaps he knows something."

Lothar beckoned Richard, who was further back in the column, to come over and asked him the same question again.

"There might be armored war elephants, but Manticores are highly unlikely. The Saracens have tried to tame that beast, but I’ve never heard of any successful examples," Richard replied.

The army rested briefly at Sego village, then set out once more. Lothar dispatched Ulm as a messenger to Jorgklusburg. He was to summon the newly trained Winged Hussars and Axe Guards to join the main force, and incidentally, to bring back the suit of armor Marlus had forged for Banu.