The soldiers crowded on the wall, watching the cavalry gallop by, their eyes filled with envy and jealousy.
"I used to herd for the Lord, I’ll find Knight Hans later to try my luck. I also want to become that... winged cavalry?"
"It’s Winged Cavalry!"
"I just realized, Ulm’s riding skill is actually so good. Look at that shiny armor, it’s just like a noble lady’s mirror."
On the wall, Marles silently watched this scene, a hint of nostalgia in his expression.
Once upon a time, he also crafted quite a few armors for the Winged Cavalry, each more exquisite than the one that cavalryman was wearing, but that was in the past.
Ever since Duke Jagelon VIII fell, and he was expelled from the territories of the Boli Federation, he had never seen the Winged Cavalry again.
The once powerful Boli Federation was no more, replaced by a weak country sandwiched between Tsarist Russia and Prussia, retreating at every turn, its territory shrinking year by year.
A severely weathered brick fell to the ground, cracking into two pieces with a snap.
Marles was startled to find that this brick had loosened and fallen off because of his "touch."
He instinctively looked around and met Losa’s gaze.
"I swear, Lord, I really didn’t use any force."
Losa forced a smile: "I believe you, this castle does need repairs. This is only the Inner Castle for now, but eventually, the outer walls will be renewed too."
If it weren’t for your frightening strength, equivalent to five ordinary people, who could pull out a brick like that?
Marles was silent for a moment, then opened his mouth to rectify the situation: "Lord, I can stack up a blast furnace for smelting iron today, then I can start forging armor for you."
"Even though I’m limited by materials and tools and can only create a half-body plate armor for you, I promise it will be the finest armor in all Jerusalem."
If not for the Winged Cavalry Camp where only "natives" can spend gold coins to use the armor and weapons inside, and each person is limited to one set.
Losa would also want to take advantage of this.
Because the full armor and combat techniques of the Winged Cavalry are obviously far superior to the worth of 50 Suludes. Googlᴇ search NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Half-body plate armor, at this time, can only be forged by the top craftsmen in Milan, and even then, the quality is no stronger than that of the Winged Cavalry’s half-body plate armor.
By now, Ulm had already circled around Jorgelisburg and was riding towards the castle gate.
Once Ulm entered the gate, he leaped off his warhorse, kneeling on one knee.
"Thank you, Heavenly Father and for your gifts, you have made me feel the meaning of life again. I will repay your generous gift with my sword and spear."
Losa gestured for Ulm to rise, then said: "Gentlemen, I hope you will not call me Holy Son. Heretics and evil forces will not sit idly by and watch a Holy Son descend to the world. They will do everything to kill, hinder, and threaten him—just like they did to Jesus."
"Indeed, miracles often accompany me, perhaps Heavenly Father does favor me, but please never call me Holy Son. I am a secular Lord, now and in the future!"
"Offer me your loyalty with peace of mind, I promise, those loyal will be rewarded!"
The soldiers cheered immediately.
"Long live, the noble Divine Favored, our loyal Lord!"
"Willing to give everything for you, be it blood or bones!"
Losa turned and headed back to the Inner Castle.
Furin stood by the window watching these excited people, proudly saying: "Look, they admire the Lord so much, I bet, even if the Lord asked them to assassinate the Pope now, they wouldn’t hesitate. In my opinion, the Lord will soon become a king."
Prajna gave her a cold sidelong glance.
"What are you laughing at?"
Furinjira frowned, looking displeased.
Prajna rarely replied: "Laughing at someone who’s currently indulging in an unrealistic dream of being a queen."
Velvet curtains were draped by the window.
Losa lay over the desk, a quill swiftly moving.
He is writing letters.
One is to Count Leopold of Austria, asking him when he plans to set out for the Holy Land, including some greetings and concerns about the current situation of the Holy Land.
Of course, this is not the main point.
The main point is to seek support, whether in money, or talents like "bakers," "tailors," "merchants," those who can repair water channels, dig wells, or repair castle walls like "bricklayers."
One is to Count Werner of Algo, with daily greetings and explaining his current situation.
He knows that Count Werner is not wealthy, and it’s hard for him to provide financial support, so he didn’t even mention that Jorgelisburg is a barren place.
The last one is to Baron Goffrey.
The aim is still to seek support.
Although he has quite a lot in savings, he is currently completely in a negative income state.
Relying on the taxes from six nearby villages is simply not enough to maintain the large army Losa plans to organize; it’s enough to fill stomachs, but not enough to pay salaries.
Moreover, he also has to pay tribute tax to his Lord, Baldwin IV. Although this sum is not much, it is still an expense.
"His Majesty the King probably never intended for me to organize this territory, nor to support an army."
Losa pondered over the bills, feeling a headache.
Baldwin IV probably wanted him to serve as an officer in Jerusalem, to command the royal army.
But he does not intend to follow Baldwin IV’s plan to the letter.
Though Jorgelisburg is not a good place for farming, with neither specialties nor commerce.
But at least he has to set up a framework, one that can operate independently and continuously develop the territory, rather than simply exploiting it.
Among the six villages under Jorgelisburg, there is also one where half the population are Fire Worshippers.
In previous years, they were subjected to heavy taxes.
But Losa does not plan to do so, because they are so poor that many people even have to come to the castle to borrow iron farm tools.
Even with heavy taxes, not much can be collected. It’s better to treat them well so they can be more settled.
Leonard stood on the steps outside the Lord’s Hall, knocked the dust off his shoes, tidied his attire, and then walked cautiously into the Inner Castle.
He examined the Inner Castle, familiar yet strange, with gray eyes full of restraint and tension.
The walls were decorated with a variety of exquisite reliefs.
The originally narrow prayer room had now been expanded into a formal chapel, with a holy image made of mosaic tiles behind the central Cross.
In such a chapel, Heavenly Father would be more willing to listen, right?
The entire Inner Castle appeared more spacious than before.
All the old furniture that was like rubbish had been cleared out, but besides the lack of furniture, this Inner Castle was much cleaner than before.
No mice, no dust, even the air carried a hint of fragrance.
"Heavenly Father above!"
Leonard exclaimed in amazement. This was the first time in three days he had mustered the courage to step into the Lord’s Hall, considered a sacred place by the people of Jorgelisburg.
In their hearts, it had become nothing less than a miraculous place on par with the Holy Sepulchre Cathedral in Jerusalem.
He walked all the way to the administrative hall on the second floor where Losa was.
He looked at Losa busily writing at the desk.
Leonard immediately showed a fawning smile, "My Lord, your castle lacks pretty girls as maids, doesn’t it? It’s really too spacious here, not even someone to help you dress. I know some lovely girls from nearby villages, let me bring them here for you, they would surely be happy to serve the Ho... oh no, the Lord!"
Even if they never said it, the people of Jorgelisburg still regarded him as the Holy Son.
It’s imaginable that those lords with witches at their service also used the "miracles" of the witches to boast and elevate their status.
"No need, I didn’t come to the Holy Land for personal pleasure."
Losa refused decisively.
In this era, even pampered noblewomen were rarely attractive to him, let alone ordinary women who had to face daily sun exposure and hard labor.
"Leonard, how’s the task I assigned you coming along?"
Losa looked at Leonard, who seemed reluctant to move, frowned, and asked.
Leonard’s face turned somewhat awkward, and he stuttered: "So... sorry, my lord. The money you gave me to buy warhorses was stolen by a gang of swift desert bandits. My mule couldn’t outrun them at all."
Losa’s face turned ugly — just when he was fretting about money, someone lost it for him?
He forced himself to calm down quickly: "Guard Officer, your incompetence is disappointing. Tell me what happened with these desert bandits, and then I’ll decide whether to hold you accountable."