Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 422 - 107: Saladin

Damascus.

Saladin’s court is a beautiful garden-like building, with a vast rectangular courtyard where an imperial path separates two large pools flowing with clear spring water.

On the marble walls of the court, full scriptures of the Fire Worship and poems and aphorisms of various sages and scholars are engraved. Gold-inlaid, ivory, and various luxurious vessels and porcelains show the wealth of the owner.

The Lord of Egypt and Arabia, whose core territories Syria and Egypt, are among the richest areas in the entire Western Asia region.

In the court, two black-robed warlocks, are casting incantations, broadcasting the past words and deeds of Reynard, the former King of the Dead Sea, on a rippling water-like screen.

On the city wall, the Crusader soldiers are filled with righteous indignation.

One can clearly see the somewhat twisted expression of Reynard’s face due to anger. His fingers in chain armor gloves even dug into the rammed earth of the city wall.

After a long time, he finally released his grip.

He slowly spoke, "Indeed, as the Lord of Kaler Castle and Montreal, it is my duty to protect the pilgrims. The previous neglect and failures are indeed my faults."

A bizarre smile appeared on Reynard’s face: "If your army wishes to pass through, just directly escort Her Highness the Princess out."

"Or do you consider that this small fortress of mine, with a few hundred soldiers, is a major threat to your army? Do you need us to throw all our weapons down the city walls, bind our hands and surrender, for you to enter with peace of mind?"

Reynard’s response was exceptionally composed.

Since the treaty was established, he has even rarely raided caravans. Even if there are some, it’s hard to find evidence.

In the vast desert, it’s completely normal for one or two caravans to disappear. No one knows whether it was done by the Bedouin nomads, who come and go like the wind, or by merchants occasionally playing the role of bandits.

Previously, Saladin was restricted by poor climate and logistical conditions, as well as the threat from the Eastern King of Kings, and could not use full force in the campaign against Jerusalem.

Now, Sassanid Persia’s attention is drawn by enemies from the East. Having just subdued the remnants of Zangi’s rebellion and helped by the Caster, Saladin is fully prepared to reclaim the Holy Land. All that’s missing is a reasonable excuse to start a war.

The Saracen commander below the city was momentarily speechless.

They had intended to provoke Reynard, given this "King of the Dead Sea’s" greedy and reckless nature; there was a great possibility that he would take the risk of capturing Princess Basma to demand a high ransom.

This would give them a pretext for war.

But unexpectedly, Reynard didn’t take the bait?

"You mere few hundred are naturally insignificant to our army."

Reynard laughed, "Since it’s not, then let your army proceed. Currently, Count Losa of Transjordan is known for his justice. Any pilgrims and caravans that pay taxes and transit fees can pass safely."

Reynard paused slightly, then sneered, "It’s just uncertain if he will allow such a large ’escort team’ of yours to pass through his territory."

Obviously, that is impossible.

This Saracen commander below had once been defeated by Losa. He knows better than anyone that just recently defeated Zane and Piercer Rauf, Losa’s power is amongst the top in the realm of Crusader Princes.

His thousand elite troops, if entering Losa’s territory, would only be swallowed whole.

"It seems Reynard’s power has weakened, and his temper has also improved; only now does he look a bit appropriate."

Saladin sighed somewhat, smiling as he nodded at the black-robed mage beside him: "Gentlemen, please convey my orders to Camille. Since Reynard agreed to let us pass, request a document stamped with his seal and have him escort my sister out of Reynard’s territory, then he can return."

"By the way, be sure to warn him not to disturb, plunder civilians, and prioritize my sister’s safety."

Watching the departing Saracen cavalry, the Crusader soldiers on the city wall were both angry and frustrated, yet felt a sense of relief after a narrow escape.

Including Reynard, he was even somewhat joyful, hoping that this Saracen cavalry would run into the territories of Losa, Baron Argon, and others, causing them a major nuisance.

As for losing face, indeed, it was lost.

He could even feel his newlywed wife, watching him, this "brave" Crusader General, with eyes full of doubt and confusion.

Reynard was somewhat surprised that he didn’t feel as angry as he anticipated. His face, long stripped away, was fully gone that day when the King personally took back his titles of Count of Transjordan and Lord of Hebron.

Thus, when a person abandons their bottom line, there truly is no new bottom line.

At worst, you guys can plunder my land at will. Those villages were ravaged a few months ago and hardly anything remains.

If he hadn’t collected a "gift" from his vassals by marrying a new bride, he wouldn’t even be able to maintain the current few hundred standing troops of Kaler Castle, let alone rebuild those villages.

Saladin signaled the two casters to cut off the image.

Taqidin, Saladin’s nephew, a burly and plump man with a face full of fat, lightly coughed: "My lord, we have captured the rebel leader Salah. Do you wish to interrogate him personally?"

Saladin was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly: "Bring him up."

Taqidin immediately shouted, "Bring the rebel Salah forward to respond."

Unlike the high-spirited demeanor he had when he first met Losa at the inn, Salah now was covered in blood and filth, and the remnants of his tattered armor had been stripped away, leaving only ragged silk undergarments.

He looked up at the man he had long hated to the bone, and sneered: "Rebel Saladin, why do you see me? Do you want me to kneel before you and beg for your forgiveness?"

Saladin frowned, his tone still calm: "I have treated you well enough. In your residence in Damascus, you lacked for nothing—with maids, gardens, delicacies, and fine wine. Why betray me?"

Salah’s face showed a trace of mockery: "Saladin, you rose to the position of Prime Minister of Fatimid Egypt by leveraging my father’s envoy status, yet you betrayed my father and are unwilling to pay even the smallest tribute. Tell me, did my father not treat you well enough? Why betray my father, imprison his son, and seize his city?"

Saladin was silent for a moment.

Taqidin thought to himself, my uncle must have lost his mind. What’s there to debate with the remnants of Zangi? Can black really be argued as white?

His implication was that they were on the side of black.

"Ha, speechless? Rebel."

Salah stood straight with effort, sneering: "You’d better kill me, or I’ll keep fighting you."

"I won’t kill you, Salah."

Saladin was silent for a moment, then spoke: "In the north of Armenia, there are still several Kurdish tribes. I appoint you as Governor of Georgia to integrate the Kurdish tribes."

"Ha, Saladin, does Georgia count as your territory too? Why don’t you appoint me as Governor of Constantinople, and let me go to the Greeks’ land to become Emperor?"

Salah laughed heartily.

Georgia once belonged to the Eastern Empire and is now an ally in the East. Queen Tamar of the Bagratid royal family is often mentioned alongside Empress Ragaya of the Eastern Empire as a female ruler.

"Wolf King, wherever you are, you should have the ability to lead the wolves."

Saladin did not laugh, he just said flatly: "If you want to oppose me, what can you talk about without a force truly loyal to you? Do you really think I take you seriously?"

From beginning to end, Saladin was merely struggling against opponents whose interests were harmed.

Salah is just a fallen prince, with so-called "legitimacy," but besides a few followers, he has little of his own power.

Salah was silent for a moment.

Sneering: "Ha, Saladin, are you showing your hypocritical and ridiculous demeanor again? Do you think in this way, others will no longer curse you as a despicable rebel, a petty person eager to tear up freshly signed contracts and start a war?"

"You’d better kill me, or I swear I will become your most terrible enemy!"

"Ha."

"Perhaps."

Saladin showed no anger, he raised his hand to his chest: "May the sacred fire protect you, brother."

"Bah!"

Salah laughed coldly.

"Taqidin, send Prince Salah to his ’territory’ to take up his post."

Taqidin looked at Salah’s eyes filled with hatred, thinking to himself, did his uncle imply anything by his words and want me to resolve this guy halfway?

"Don’t overthink it, just interpret my order literally."

Facing Saladin’s wise and calm gaze, Taqidin was stunned and quickly said: "Yes, my lord."