As the sun rose, the various divisions of Crusaders stationed inside and outside the city awakened from their slumber.

The accompanying clergy gathered, holding golden, silver, copper, or wooden Latin Crosses, Eastern Orthodox Crosses, Coptic Crosses, and even the rare Armenian Cross.

Ascetics clad in linen and barefoot, along with bishops wearing gold-topped crowns and holding scepters, arrived at the military camp to lead the soldiers in morning prayers, praising the resurrection of Jesus Christ and confessing their sins.

Cardinal Sebastian took off his usual black robe and donned a red vestment robe, draping a red cloak over himself to highlight his distinguished status as a "Cardinal."

Unfortunately, this fellow seems to be unloved; surrounding him are only the Guard Knights of his church estate, as well as the elite among the Apennine mercenaries.

"These people prefer to believe in the heretic divine servants and clergy appointed by aristocrats, rather than listening to orthodox teachings. I am beginning to doubt whether the Crusaders who come to the Holy Land remain devout or have been enchanted by the Demon."

Speaking of the "Demon," Sebastian glanced somewhat jealously at those ascetics from the Saint Lazarus Order in the distance, around whom Crusader soldiers prayed for God's grace.

Actually, he wasn't entirely unpopular.

The rank-and-file soldiers were unaware of the filth within the church hierarchy and his discord with Duke Losa; they merely saw his sumptuous attire and esteemed status, keeping their distance.

The well-informed noble lords likewise showed no inclination to associate with this titular, yet ill-favored cardinal accompanied by the Grand Marshal.

Even the two highly esteemed Kings have made it clear that they acknowledge the Grand Marshal's position. If they incur the Grand Marshal's disfavor, they wouldn't need any conspiracy; merely delaying supplies or placing him in perilous battle lines could cost lives.

The Grand Marshal is upright, but who hasn't shown partiality and favoritism?

...

Losa, fully clad in armor, stepped into the courtyard, and the Winged Cavalry, serving as his Personal Guard, immediately halted their tasks and turned their gaze towards him.

A horse neighed.

The tall Eclipse galloped out from the crowd, raised its hooves, and its eyes filled with eager anticipation.

The horse handler looked helplessly at the reins slipped from his hand, uncertain whether to stay put or try to squeeze forward to apologize.

"Set out."

At Losa's command, the Winged Cavalry swiftly mounted their horses.

The mansion's gate swung open, and Losa charged out at the forefront.

The reason for accepting Adil's duel was simple: before the Demon Dragon, walls were utterly useless—this wasn't the Theodosius Wall embedded with a Magic Array from Yesterday's Giant Ship World.

Attempting to rely on the walls for defense, the entire city could easily be burned to ashes, necessitating an eventual confrontation outside the city. By then, advantageous terrain would be entirely occupied, hindering the deployment of tens of thousands of Crusaders.

Baron Charlie was inspecting his cavalry, consisting of knights from Flanders and their attendants, along with many Landless Knights from the Flanders Walloon region who had pledged allegiance to Losa.

Losa entrusted all these men to his command, totaling over three hundred Heavy Cavalry, named the Flanders Walloon Regiment.

"Gentlemen, the time to achieve glory has arrived. Most of you, like me, are the unnoticed younger sons of our families or outright bankrupt knights, inheriting nothing but armor and lance."

"If we were in Europe, we might die in a land dispute devoid of justice, fighting a lifetime without acquiring a piece of land. But now we are in the Holy Land, in Egypt, fighting for the liberation of the Holy Land and the great cause of protecting Christ."

"Our loyalty lies with Duke Losa, renowned for generosity. Even a farmer who has achieved merit can be elevated to knighthood. Do you think we noblemen are any less than those rookie soldiers who've just put down their farming tools?"

Armored Cavalry clad in black Zha Armor, equipped like iron towers, alongside similarly styled, relatively light-armored Kheshig Cavalry, all carrying bows and forming a winding marching column, followed by supply wagons.

Leading them was a turbaned man possessing distinct Turkic features, riding a three-meter-tall Land Dragon.

"This fellow..."

Baron Charlie was certain he had never seen this man before, yet felt a peculiar sense of "blood connection," soon realizing he was likely the new protégé appointed by Your Majesty.

"Baron Charlie?"

The newcomer, seated high, astride a massive dragon whose muscles bulged, extended claws with nearly two-meter-long curved blades that could effortlessly sever even three layers of armor.

"Yes, I am."

"I am Orhan Celebi, appointed by Your Majesty as Hans' assistant. Hans has given orders for you and me to promptly assemble our light and heavy cavalry."

"Your Majesty?"

Baron Charlie was taken aback, thinking this fellow knew how to flatter; but our master hasn't been crowned King yet.

He nodded, saying, "I have rallied the troops; we require slight preparation before setting off."

Orhan surveyed the reasonably organized cavalry opposite him, along with the attendants leading horses, pack animals, and wagons carrying food, water, lances, heavy armor, and other supplies needed by knights and steeds.

It seems Your Majesty has quite a few talents under his command in this world.

"Mate, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"The dragon you're riding, was it given to you by our Lord? Why didn't I get one?"

Baron Charlie was quite envious, and even tried to reach out and pat the giant creature. But the Sharp Claw Dragon under Orhan, seemingly recognizing the familiar scent of the Dragon King's kin, merely flicked its head impatiently.

"Given?"

Orhan thought the term was fitting: "It was given to me by our Lord. As for you... you don't possess the Dragon Taming Bloodline."

"Dragon Taming Bloodline, similar to that of the Targaryen Family?"

Baron Charlie was extremely curious; in this world, he hadn't heard of any Dragon Knights.

This time, Orhan was curious: "Which family is Targaryen?"

Baron Charlie looked surprised and said: "Targaryen isn't a family here; it's an imaginary family from the novel Song of Winter and Summer written by our Lord — haven't you read the Lord's works? Could it be you're a spy from the Saracens?"

He paused slightly: "No wonder you look quite Turkic, are you not a Mamluk?"

...

"Lord Hans, the army of Your Majesty in this world seems... somewhat ordinary."

Watching various troops continuously enter the camp, Giovanni Giustiniani frowned.

For example, the newly formed Longsword regiment composed of Coptic soldiers, whose equipment mostly came from the seized arms of Saracen soldiers. Although they went through some accelerated training, Giovanni believed they were not even as good as the militia that guarded Constantinople, let alone the Janissaries.

Though by the standards of this era, they were considered decent infantry, far superior to the group of old farmers brought by the Saracens, but that was just comparing them with the worst.

Comparing them to the Renaissance period where plate armor was widespread, and elite standing armies like the Armored Cavalry and Hungarian Black Army emerged, they fell far short.

"It's just the difference in eras."

Hans paused slightly before replying in a neutral tone: "In my era, with just one Teutonic Knight carrying a grenade loaded with White Crystal Powder, dozens to hundreds of armored cavalry could be taken down."

Giovanni chuckled: "You've misunderstood, I wasn't criticizing your skills in training soldiers, I just think that based on Your Majesty's temperament, if it were his own loyal army, he wouldn't hesitate to provide them the best equipment and training."

Hans nodded slightly: "What you said isn't wrong, it's just that circumstances don't allow it. From the time Your Majesty arrived at the Holy Land, to establishing this foundation, it's been less than a year. This Longsword regiment, since its formation, hasn't even existed a month. Previously, they were either dock workers, porters, farmers, hardly a hunter among them, never having touched a weapon before; achieving their current state is already quite good."

"That is truly my ignorance."

Giovanni chuckled, sized up Hans a bit, then asked: "Which family does Lord Hans hail from?"

Hans shook his head: "I don't belong to any family."

Indeed, he had no family, but hearing this made Giovanni's gaze friendlier, and he hesitated for a moment before asking: "Lord Hans, in your era, how is the situation for the wandering Wolf Race?"

Hans shook his head: "This is something you should ask Miss Cherina, she is the princess of the Basilicata Family. Their family established a new home in the New Continent, a place called Texas, and declared that all Wolves, regardless of origin, could join to become members of the Texas Wolf Race."

Giovanni was somewhat surprised: "Not tricking the wandering Wolves into becoming their slaves?"

"No, the wandering Wolves aren't fools. They declare Wolf equality, which infuriated the Wolf Lord, even leading him to send an Expedition Army led by the Yakxi Family for suppression, which unfortunately failed due to our intervention."

Hans was quite proud, as he participated in this significant event, though his contribution was limited.

"Wolf equality..."

Giovanni couldn't help but savor the term, a hint of longing flashing through his mind: "Hearing you speak makes me want to see your timeline."

In his timeline, the wandering Wolves largely resided in his domain on Limnos Island, Chios Island, and other places. Although protected by Rome, they no longer lived under the thumb of the Genoans, adrift as mercenaries.

However, with the departure of Your Majesty and Lady Viviana, Rome had lost its greatest deterrent weapon. Despite Orhan's Sharp Claw Dragon growing considerably, it couldn't compare to the former Three-headed Demon Dragon, Copper-Horned Red Dragon, or Lady Viviana's Red-Black Dragon.

The Wolf Lord, a terrifying presence whose age is unknown, remained a looming mountain over the heads of all wandering Wolves.

"The Lord is coming!"

Hans suddenly exclaimed loudly.

In the distance, dust rose, and a flag bearing the Double-headed Eagle was held high. Giovanni gazed at the familiar banner, his eyes growing moist: "It is truly an honor, Your Majesty, to fight alongside you under this banner once more."