The current battle situation can basically be summarized in four words: the overall situation is settled.

Adil leads the elite Kasaji Guard in a charge, at most blocking the heavy cavalry squad led personally by Jeanne, but it doesn't contribute to the overall situation unless they can crush the Iron Pagoda, Armored Archers, and the elite Kyshak army like slicing vegetables, while remaining unscathed and breaking into the Crusaders' flank.

But that is impossible.

In terms of individual combat power, every elite under Losa's command, who has undergone systematic job change and received various boosts, far outweighs the Kasaji Guard, even if Adil brings them to take a bottle of magic potion per person, at most their combat power is equal.

But if this tendency is discovered, Losa will immediately let Furinjira perform Group Bloodfall for everyone; he would never let his people suffer losses.

Losa is not surprised by this result.

The Crusaders have always had stronger individual combat power than the Saracens. If it weren't for improper command, the historical Battle of Hattin might not have ended in a Crusader defeat.

If the Crusaders were truly so weak and incompetent, the Saracens wouldn't regard Saladin, who sometimes won and sometimes lost against the Crusaders, as the "Savior" to reclaim the Holy Land.

Moreover, Jeanne, Losa, and Hans each have Armored Lances that bear halo blessings on their subordinate soldiers, combined with the difference in morale between the two sides; the Saracens' numerical advantage means practically nothing.

After engaging the enemy, Adil discovers his initial intention to crush the Crusader main force, at least fight to mutual destruction, is utterly absurd.

Perhaps it's truly unfair to blame the weakness of those Coptics or the private armies of local lords trying to preserve strength; perhaps they did exert all their effort, but the difference in hard strength simply couldn't be compensated.

He saw the elite Kasaji Guard dispatched by his brother colliding with those armored cavalry, their bodies flying like rag dolls, saw the desperate expressions of the people wielding guns and swords unable to penetrate the defense of those iron monsters.

For a moment, his original thought to die heroically for the Saracens, the Ayyubid Dynasty, and the Holy Fire Faith to shine one last time seemed to flow into the white frost summoned by the Wild Hunt.

Frigid and piercing.

He wants to find the cold man in the golden mask, who is destined to ascend the throne of Egypt, to see if he is currently smirking at his own overestimation.

But his vision is already blocked by the dense iron armor, flags hanging like a forest.

"Find this prominent figure and kill him!"

With an astonished cry, an arrow flies through the air and hits a Kasaji Guard in front of Adil, a former lowly porter now the leading Sipahi Cavalry Gallio.

The young cavalryman's face is filled with excitement, knowing just by the armor that this Saracen general is far nobler than the Samman lords in the city; if he could capture or kill him, wouldn't he immediately rise through the ranks to duke or general?

But unfortunately, he is not the only one targeting this prominent figure.

From the side, a large silhouette rushes out, thrusting the lance in hand. It is an Armored Cavalry nicknamed "Iron Pagoda", his entire body wrapped in heavy Iron Armor, revealing only his eyes.

Gallio's competitors are not limited to him; riding next to him is a Kyshak Cavalry, bow drawn and arrow fitted, shooting a sharp arrow borrowing the speed of the charging horse.

"Hahaha, boy, this is my prey!"

With the splendid archery of an Eagle Shooter, the arrow directly hits Adil's chest.

Next follows the lance, Armed Sword...

When the scattered Kasaji Guard tries to rush to Adil, what they see is a man barely clinging to life, lying prostrate on a warhorse.

"Lord Governor!"

"You cannot die, Your Majesty still needs you!"

The cries echoing in dying consciousness become fragmented.

In a daze, Adil sees his brother's gentle and confident smile again, as if he would never be discouraged by failure, as if he could always find a solution no matter the peril, and he just needed to execute it. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

But since this Losa came to the Holy Land, such smiles have become increasingly rare: defeats at Kaler Castle, Galilee, Sinai Bridgehead, Damietta, Semanude...

A succession of bad news, as if the Holy Fire no longer favored His people.

He hoped he could solve this problem for his brother, coming to Egypt to take over this mess, striving to unify the scattered Saracen Lords under Taqidin.

But he can achieve nothing.

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Adil's lips curl up, it seems like a smile, yet like crying.

Plop—

Blood falls along with his gun, crushed in the dust.

...

The young Duke riding on the solar-eclipsed witnessed Adil swallowed by his cavalry, watching those Saracen soldiers flee like terrified herds of beasts.

He murmured, "The war is won, but it's not over yet."

"Pass my orders, full troop withdrawal, cease pursuit of fleeing enemies, to clear the stage for our performance."

Two intertwined armies are hard to separate.

But the Saracens have completely collapsed, running without looking back, abandoning armor to flee in panic.

"Duke Losa, this should be the first time we face each other and chat calmly, right?"

"Do you have anything you'd like to say?"

"No, just that destiny is capricious."

Shemir smiled, a Legendary Mage is meant to weigh everything with interests, measure gains and losses with reason.

And not suddenly feeling heated and—

His old companion, Giant Dragon friend, was also because of him—

But he cannot cross this threshold, it's his obsession, the only lingering obsession from mortal to demi-god legendary status.

Philip, watching, was quite joyful; their battle has concluded, judging by this, the Saracens have admitted defeat, and the full recovery of Egypt is only a step away.

"Now it's a personal vendetta between our Grand Marshal and that Legendary Mage?"

"I still don't understand how they became enemies."

The Witch Alice was puzzled.

Both sides are serving their masters; to put it bluntly, isn't this just being mercenaries? If one side pays more, switching loyalties right on the spot is possible; how could real dead-lethal hatred be born from some friction while serving a client?

Isn't this just madness?

"Are we really going to just watch and not intervene?"

Richard was still eager to try; his Sword in the Stone and Sword of Victory were already thirsty, and such a grand stage providing an opportunity to shine is an incredible political achievement even for a king.

He could already imagine himself—

When the time comes, even if John at home rebels, no one would follow his foolish brother.

The young witch Martha sneered: "If you intend to bake yourself in, then go ahead and try. Haven't you noticed the Duke Losa, who shot down a Demon Dragon with an arrow, looks as if facing a great enemy?"

Richard hummed lightly: "I don't think I'm much lower than him, not just a single arrow shooting down a Giant Dragon; haven't I also split open a canyon with a sword and killed a hundred-meter Sea Beast?"

Martha laughed sarcastically, reluctantly saying: "Your self-perception is truly excellent."

Every trade has its barriers, a layman suddenly bestowed with immense power, can even split a giant sea beast larger than the largest ship apart with a sword, how could he know the difference between such a sea beast and a land giant beast?

A hundred-meter Giant Dragon might look insignificant on seabed.

But the life level and combat power levels of the two are undoubtedly worlds apart.

However, Richard, in the end, is not a real fool; he's simply just stubbornly attempting.