"Saint Losa above!"

"Power, mercy, and holiness combined, Heavenly blessings upon our King Losa, ever victorious, basking in glory!"

Having witnessed a divine battle firsthand and watched as the fallen Grand Marshal was resurrected, not knowing who's started it, the simply clad combat cultivators, regional priests, and even bishops began to sing praises of this miracle.

Many Crusader soldiers began again to call out the honorific "King of the Crusaders," which they had previously shouted.

Maybe Losa hasn't truly been crowned a king, but a title of "King of the Crusaders" with such a prefix, even the two true kings present expressed no surprise or dissatisfaction; it was well-deserved.

As long as he doesn't openly claim the title of Holy Son, leaving them some room for maneuver, it's fine.

This scene left a deep impression on the Saracen people too.

That golden giant god, defeated by a pagan demon god, if it was truly their worshiped sacred fire, the all-knowing, and almighty God of Light, why would it be defeated by a pagan demon god?

If it wasn't a god, why at the crucial moment, would the god not appear, letting a "pseudo-god" save the day?

Unthinkable, completely unthinkable!

"Perhaps God doesn't exist at all."

"Or maybe He doesn't care about us, we've been abandoned by God."

Some devout believers sat lifelessly, on the ground, oblivious as their escaping companions stepped over them; while some fire worshipers simply went roadside, shakily raised weapons, and abruptly ended their own lives.

In the doctrine of Fire Worship, suicide incurs falling into the Fire Prison, an irredeemable sin forever.

Because a person's life and death should be determined by the god alone.

Their sacrilegious act partly stems from their shattered faith, and partly as an expression of frustration towards God, either way, it's extremely blasphemous.

A wise man cried out sorrowfully: "My brothers, the pagan demonic forces prevail because our piety and virtues are lacking. The Lord granted us trials to discern nobility from baseness among us, elevating the noble to the Celestial Kingdom while the vile fall into Hell; do not foolishly ruin your life over this."

Some perceptive Saracen clergy had already begun pondering how to cooperate with the Crusaders.

Those Franks occupied Semanude and Damietta without forcibly demanding everyone convert to Christ, didn't they? The Franks still need the clergy's help to rule Egypt.

At most, future days may be far harder than before.

Some said: "We must obey, not resist, for this is the suffering bestowed by the Lord, to live under heretic rule, atoning for our sins, so we may ascend to the Celestial Kingdom."

Others angrily rebuffed: "Look at this petty chatterbox, such uncleanly person also infiltrates our Orthodox Church, feigning purity—this is why the Lord granted us trials. Only in adversity can we distinguish the vile ones."

The two sides argued heatedly, with the Fire Worship in Egypt already having left much of the "Shiite remnants" due to the rule of the Fatimid Dynasty; the Ayyubid Dynasty had replaced it in less than twenty years.

Facing a crisis, these beleaguered "Shiite remnants" immediately stood up to challenge the "Sunni Orthodoxy."

The fleeing Saracens continued to flee. Whether to obey or resist, staying here was not a wise choice.

Although retreating, they loudly refuted each other's doctrines; even preserving most of the viable forces, the newly divided Saracen allied troops had become scattered, no longer posing any threat to the Crusaders.

...

"Ivan, I've already said we're incapable of defeating Duke Losa. He is not only a secular monarch, but also represents the aspect of the Heavenly Father I believe in. The Holy Son once faced calamity too, but saw it coming and willingly bore it."

Baron Fulk knelt on the ground, pulling out the deeply hidden cross from his neckline, and praying softly.

"At this point, saying this is meaningless. Remember, you are now a damn heretic like us, even more detestable in the eyes of the Franks than we traitors are."

Ivan's tone had some dejection; the progress of the war was completely contrary to his predictions.

His proudly individual valor, and the elite troops under his command, were like stones thrown into the sea; not a ripple raised, easily crushed by those armored forces.

Talk of achieving anything significant had become fancy dreams.

"Let's go, we still have some reserves left. It's time to take the ship and leave Egypt."

The Mamluks who came to Egypt with him, especially those who mostly supported his master "Taqidin," were almost wiped out, so the remaining Mamluks already counted as his personal military force.

"Ivan, I will not leave with you."

Fulk shook his head, kneeling on the ground, closed his eyes, and planned to accept his fate calmly—whether sent to the gallows, bound to a stake, or thrown into mines as a slave.

"Madman!"

Bang—

Ivan struck the back of Fulk's neck with the sword hilt, ordered his men to carry this fainted, self-destructive fellow onto horseback.

Before leaving, he couldn't resist glancing back at the radiant shadow, seemingly the avatar of a celestial deity, mumbling softly: "In total, this is the last battle with you, no more in the future, I swear!"

He did not intend to return to Aleppo.

In his view, sooner or later that place would get conquered by the Crusaders; the collapse of the Ayyubid Dynasty was inevitable.

It'd be better to head directly for Asia Minor, whether mixing with the Rom King to fight Greeks or turning to Persian lands for work, there will always be a way to live.

After careful consideration, the latter still seems more reliable.

After all, Rom Country is not far from the Franks, and the Persians are reportedly at war with nomads from the Eastern Grassland — nomads, their combat effectiveness needs no elaboration, early on Ivan, who often dealt with the Kuman people, utterly disdained them.

Only the pampered Persian lords would suffer losses against enemies of such a level.

...

"It's simply unimaginable."

"Is this Losa perhaps a master of Transformation Technique in the Legendary Domain?"

A caster from the advisory group, his voice filled with shock, they had once believed they were the strongest in the world, but today they realized that they were like toads watching the sky from the bottom of a well.

Shemir's displayed combat power far exceeded their imagination of the legendary.

Those Giant Gods, each exhibiting battle power, surpassed them by a large margin, the green mummies and stone giants, even more, far above them.

But who could have thought that even such a powerful Shemir would meet a miserable demise, and his enemy, whom he fought to perish together with, resurrected in full view after the battle concluded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's disperse now."

During the conversation, several casters with solitary personalities silently performed their arts and left.

"Hopefully this master Losa won't hold a grudge against us."

Someone muttered in a low voice, taking out a broom and placing it between his legs.

Before long, the group of mage advisors hired at great expense by Saladin dispersed like birds and beasts.

...

Losa felt his body being reshaped and lightly sighed — no matter how you put it, the taste of death is not pleasant, to return from eternal silence to the human world, even if only for a split second, he still felt a lingering fear.

If it had been an ordinary person, or even a high-level caster, their soul would have been obliterated in that explosion when Shemir detonated the Cuneiform Clay Tablet, but it so happened that Losa's soul strength was high enough that the whole process of death was vividly engraved in his heart.

After being reborn from the ashes, his power hadn't returned to its peak, his spiritual power was still nearly depleted as it was during the battle, but the injuries on his body had entirely healed, and the energy contained in his physique had somewhat recovered.

He cleared his mind and walked toward the crowd cheering for him.

Shemir was dead!

This was confirmed by the system; even the experience was credited, allowing him to level up ten times with surplus, but alas, he wasn't elite, so the extra experience could only be saved for now.

Casually adding all sixty Attribute Points to spirit, Losa felt his spirit immediately improve greatly.

"A Legendary Mage is really hard to kill."

He couldn't help but sigh.

Shemir, though newly entered the Legendary Domain, had that Cuneiform Clay Tablet so heaven-defying that it forcibly boosted his strength significantly; truly the most terrifying enemy he had faced till now, without exception.

An echoing neigh.

Day Eclipse galloped forth, kneeling on the ground, seemingly mimicking the Crusader Soldiers bowing before him.

Losa wore an austere expression and mounted the horse.

As the man on the giant horse gradually approached, his gaze swept around, and the cheers of people gradually subsided; whether ordinary soldiers, knights, or nobles, monks alike, they all knelt on one knee, bowed their heads, expressing their humility and reverence.

In this era, royal power isn't necessarily supreme, strong vassals defying the monarch or openly insulting and declaring war on the monarch is not uncommon, some powerful vassals at banquets even mocked and provoked their monarch is not rare.

Similarly, religious power is not necessarily supreme; even though the Pope strongly opposes, even openly supports the Lombard League, still to no avail against Emperor Henry galloping on horseback at the Po Riverbank.

But a monarch who possesses both divine and royal power, comparable to the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, is different.

This perhaps also indicates that the future Kingdom of Egypt will not be like the countries of Europe or the former Saracen Dynasty, presenting a loose alliance of lords, but a centralized state like the Eastern Empire.

Losa, mounted on Day Eclipse, rode through the army formation, passing in front of every Crusader Soldiers' unit.

After a while, Losa returned to the front line and raised the Spear of Destiny, which had become more radiant due to another great victory, and issued his command: "Everyone, the main force of the heretics has been defeated, the road to recapture the Alexandria Bishopric is now unobstructed."

He paused slightly in his speech, then said loudly: "Next, let's march towards Alexandria!"

He didn't intend to claim the title of Holy Son, because the Holy Son is also a facet of the Heavenly Father, omniscient and omnipotent, raising this banner would be too easily pierced, and moreover, would invite unnecessary hostility.

Furthermore, he now had momentum on his side; what he needed to use was grand momentum, not a risky path.

To him, being a Divine Favored is enough.

"By my king's command, march to Alexandria!"

"Long live!"

"In the name of the Heavenly Father, in the name of Saint Losa, march!"

The sound of people's fervor surged, the vast, loose army formation began to move orderly under the command of their respective lords.