In the ears, flies buzzed incessantly.
Losa covered his mouth and nose with a mask, the thick smell of blood and rotting corpses made him nauseous.
The Royal Knight Order suffered heavy losses, while the disadvantaged Saracens faced even more severe casualties, especially those light cavalry wearing only leather armor or none at all.
The ground was littered with Saracen corpses, stripped bare of their clothing and armor; even some intimate fabrics were taken away by the soldiers.
Participation in the Crusades was a sacred mission, but if any sacred mission was not linked to plundering the wealth of heretics, it would lose its original appeal.
The fragmented bodies lay with flies and mosquitoes densely clustered on them, wriggling back and forth.
As vultures swooped down, the flies scattered in droves, erupting into a cloud of black that lingered mid-air.
Hans mused, "My former instructor used to say, flies are the dead’s revenge on the living; the living kill the dead, and the dead breed flies."
Losa chuckled softly, "Your instructor is Knight Friedrich, right? It’s the first time I’ve heard he’s actually a philosopher."
Hans was a bit surprised, "You actually know?"
Losa reminisced, "Knight Friedrich is a very capable officer. Although his personal martial arts skills are limited, his ability to train new recruits and boost morale is not lacking. I wish I could summon him to work with you." For more chapters visit novel⦿fire.net
This Knight Friedrich is a Five-Star Attendant, and although his combat power is average, he possesses three aura talents.
Such an attendant, who can benefit an entire army, makes his personal combat power relatively unimportant, especially since he’s adept at training new soldiers.
Hans mused, "Indeed, if Instructor Friedrich were leading the Royal Knight Order, we certainly wouldn’t have fought this battle so difficultly."
Losa turned and instructed, "Andreas, send someone to burn those Saracen corpses."
This first-generation subject, who had once been a knight’s personal servant, has now transitioned into a heroic winged cavalry, having killed three enemies in the previous battle.
Andreas questioned, "Sir, in the Fire Worship faith, burning a corpse after death allows one to return to the Divine Kingdom. Are we really going to be this generous to them?"
"This is not an act of benevolence. The rest of the Crusader forces are right behind us. I worry that leaving these corpses exposed in the wilderness will breed an epidemic."
Losa paused slightly and continued, "As winged cavalry, you should also know what ’bacteria’ and ’virus’ are, these are the sources of disease."
"I have had enough of those ’quacks’. A wound clearly treatable with anti-inflammatory herbs, yet they insist on amputating an entire leg; a headache obviously caused by a blunt weapon strike, but they believe it’s the Devil from the heretics invading within, insisting on nailing a cross into the skull."
"Is this killing or saving?"
Hans was fuming, "The winged cavalry teaches them battlefield first aid knowledge, which they dismiss with disdain. I think those quacks should be driven out of our ranks."
"Then do it, once we reach the next stop, drive them all out!"
Losa said coldly, "Those who rely on their doctor status and disdain my orders should be eliminated from the Royal Knight Order. I would rather invite Saracen doctors into my army than keep them."
The group had already crossed the battlefield.
On a small hill ahead, Saracen cavalry had gathered.
Seeing Losa’s group approaching, the leading Mamluk shouted in Gaulish: "Halt, Franks! Is my master with you?"
"We will follow our master’s intent and surrender to you, but I must remind you, what cannot be obtained on the battlefield cannot be obtained at the negotiating table either."
Losa frowned, "You intend to defy your master’s intent?"
Defying the master’s intent would cause the Mamluks to lose all political credibility.
This was not yet the era where Mamluks had formed vast military and political groups that could even influence the government.
The Mamluk leader shouted, "No, of course not, our master’s will is our life."
"We will provide wealth equivalent to our persons, but do not expect us to willingly enter your prisoner camps, because we know very well, if we do, our master’s safety will be even less assured!"
Losa nodded in agreement, "Perhaps you don’t believe it, but I’ve never intended to harm your lives, since you’re willing to provide ransom in advance, I am prepared to accept."
Losa cleared his throat and shouted, "Based on the ransom, we should at least receive gold and silver equivalent to your entire set of weapons, equipment, and warhorses."
"That means for each light cavalryman, twenty Suludes coins, for each armored cavalryman, I want a hundred Suludes coins — you still have one hundred and fifty men, right?"
Losa demanded exorbitantly, "Round it up, I want ten thousand Suludes gold coins, or equivalent silver, jewelry, warhorses."
"No, this is extortion!"
The Mamluk team erupted in an uproar at this terrifying number.
"The ransom for a nobleman is often only a thousand dinar silver coins, a strong Frankish slave is worth no more than ten dinars, how dare you demand such an absurdly high price?"