Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks

Chapter 695 3: Refugees and Property

The war has caused Semanude to be overflowing with people.

The place is packed with countryside folks who have fled to escape the war, filling the streets and alleys with a stench and their pitiful belongings.

The city dwellers despise these bumpkins, yet they can't question the Duke's order to let them into the city. They can only watch coldly while keeping a close eye on their private property. Those who can afford it even keep some vicious dogs, tied up in the courtyard to guard the house.

It is not just to guard against the so-called "bumpkins," but also the impoverished and not so honest pilgrims.

"These damn bumpkins, these damn Frankish thieves!"

"If this continues, there will be a plague in the city."

"God above, no matter who wins, may the war end soon."

The local people are mostly in a state of panic. They do not share the Crusaders' fanaticism. Whoever wins this war, they are unlikely to gain much benefit. Many are willing to accept Losa's rule, but that doesn't mean they are willing to take up arms for Losa.

The "bumpkins" are full of despair, feeling like their lives are at a dead end. Adil's Black Gulams are a mercenary group and they treat everyone the same.

Even if they are the subjects of other Saracen Lords, they continue to rob and kill without hesitation, let alone these "traitors" who have "defected" to the enemy.

Suddenly, someone exclaimed: "The Duke has arrived!"

These stiff, numb people had a flicker of remaining hope in their eyes. Many refugees stood up, trying to lament the ugliness of the "enemy," hoping their new lord could quickly reclaim their homeland.

"Damn bumpkins, get out of the way, don't block my view of the Duke's grandeur."

A pilgrim was squeezed breathlessly by these stinking refugees.

"We also want to pilgrimage before the Duke!"

"We are also the Duke's subjects."

Several refugees, probably from the gentry class, who knew some Frankish, shouted: "How dare you bully and insult your poor Christian brothers, whose homes have been destroyed by heretics, in this holy place?"

The pilgrim was lost for words, then burst into curses: "You damn heretics, the Duke is the protector of us Germans, not you Copts."

A Coptic priest held up that unique cross and responded: "Shallow fool, the Duke is a universal monarch, he is the protector of all his subjects, regardless of ethnicity."

The pilgrim was left speechless and soon was squeezed out of the crowd.

In the distance, one could see Duke Losa, riding on a tall horse, wearing a golden mask, followed by the famous Winged Cavalry, with heavily armored infantry guards flanking the road.

"Pray for the Heavenly Lord's mercy, and for the Holy Father's son's mercy, to absolve the world of sin."

"Brothers in Christ, please let me through, I have pilgrimed to Saint James' tomb in Santiago, no one is more devout than I, please let me touch the Duke's stirrup at close range!"

A devout pilgrim rushed over, falling under the horse's hooves named Eclipse.

Eclipse snorted discontentedly, releasing sulfur-smelling white smoke from the gaps in its horse helmet. Should this guy make any outrageous move, it was ready to crush his head with a hoof.

The pilgrim kept drawing the cross on his chest: "Your Highness, my wife and I sailed from Aragon, traveled through Sicily to the Holy Land. She was a good Christian, a devout believer renowned by all, but we encountered the Devil at sea, those Berber pirates... they violated my wife, God help us, it was a horrific nightmare, but she's still pure, isn't she?"

Model raised his axe, looking impatient:

"Hurry and get out of the way, everyone has their own story on the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, but the lord is not a priest, he is not obliged to hear your confession, he has a more important task, the great mission of expelling heretics with spear and sword."

"All right, let him continue."

Losa stopped Model and said: "She was forced, no one will blame her for that."

"But my poor wife still committed suicide by jumping into the sea."

The pilgrim covered his face and wept bitterly: "She will go to Hell, Your Highness, I hope, I beg, you can grant her pardon. I will spend the rest of my life traveling to all the Holy Lands, just hoping she can ascend to the Celestial Kingdom."

"Sorry, God has granted me many favors, enabling me to perform many miracles, but never did He explicitly say I was the Holy Son."

Losa pondered for a moment, drew a cross on his chest, and said: "But if I am, I am willing to forgive your sins. If I am not, I also wish for your wife to be redeemed."

"Thank you for your forgiveness, may God bless you!"

The pilgrim's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and joy.

"Grand Marshal, Your Excellency, please seek justice for me."

A Coptic refugee tried to rush out, but was quickly pushed back by a quick-eyed guard.

Losa raised his voice: "Everyone, this is not a church, nor a court. If you want to accuse someone, you can seek the help of patrol officers or courts. If you want to confess, please find the help of priests."

He only intended to check on the refugees' situation, and if necessary, hire ships to send some to the Sinai Peninsula to reclaim wasteland, but he had no intention of wasting time on these trivial matters.