Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 451 - 233: March to War

"Who is it?"

"Chelina."

Losa explained to Raymond’s puzzled gaze, "It’s that little girl with blue-gray hair who follows me around. You should remember her."

"Indeed, anyone who sees the girls around you would be impressed."

"But forgive me for being blunt, just a little girl, even if she’s a wizard... there’s no way she could break into a heavily guarded enemy camp to assassinate a caster. You know, Demon-Blocking Gold is not that rare."

Raymond’s tone was full of doubt. He thought it was too much of a gamble to entrust such an important mission to a girl who seemed yet to reach marrying age.

"Yes, Adil’s subordinates certainly have guards using Demon-Blocking Gold weapons, but they couldn’t even get close to Chelina."

"Don’t underestimate Chelina. Nishaya’s teacher once said that even she felt a strong sense of danger facing Chelina, who stands at the pinnacle of the Extraordinary World as a caster."

Raymond listened in confusion.

He didn’t understand how the levels among wizards were divided; he just assumed that a wizard’s reputation was tied to their strength. If Anna could serve as the Eastern Empire Empress’s court advisor, she must be skilled.

"That’s good then."

Raymond fell silent, then smiled wryly, "We have no other choice now."

Chelina, a powerful assassin who could threaten a wizard like Anna, who was halfway to reaching the legendary threshold, even without being elite.

As long as she wielded a Demon-blocking Gold weapon, under the premise that the other party was unguarded, using the "Silence" effect at the throat, coupled with the lone wolf and the "Damage Increase" effect of the "Wolf Poison Potion," assassinating a caster was not a difficult task.

Moreover, by common sense, the strength of casters around Adil should not be as strong as those around Saladin.

...

In the tent.

Venezia sat alone outside the tent, honing his two-handed sword, occasionally splashing some water on the whetstone.

A voice suddenly came from behind.

"The Bloodthirsty Mad Wolf of Basilicata?"

Venezia turned his head; a blood-colored shadow was slowly solidifying into a pale-faced, middle-aged man in a black suit. His hair was graying, but his appearance didn’t seem old at all.

He frowned; as a mere level one retainer, even if they were both Five-Star, there was a world of difference in strength between him and Kurs.

"The Blood Shadow Demon from the Cepesh Family?" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Kurs bowed, "Indeed, I’ve been with the master for a bit longer than you, and I’m temporarily managing the Holy Vault under him."

Venezia responded with a slight sound and continued honing his weapon, "Is there a mission for me?"

Kurs had a formal smile, "I heard that you haven’t been getting along well with everyone since you came."

"Just for that?"

Venezia snorted, a bit impatient, "I’m here to find fights, not to make friends—and certainly not to befriend a vampire."

Kurs didn’t take offense, "Days without fights must be quite dull for you, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Venezia’s movements paused; these past days, his urge to fight had almost become unstoppable, but he couldn’t find an opponent—Jeanne and the others were far too strong. Fighting them wasn’t sparring; it was asking for abuse.

Kurs smiled, "I intend to find a sparring partner for you—but with your current strength, you might only be able to fight with ordinary people."

Venezia snorted coldly, "I’ll quickly accumulate enough merit points for the master to upgrade me. I don’t need to match you, but if I can recover thirty percent of my strength, I’d love to try the legendary Blood Shadow Demon’s strength."

"Ah, what a blockhead."

Kurs sighed with some sentiment.

"What do you mean?"

Venezia’s pupils contracted, needle-sharp.

Kurs knew this was a precursor to an attack from the Wolf Race.

"I’m not here to provoke you; I just want to offer you some advice."

Kurs rubbed his brow, "Go seek advances on some merit points from the master. Right now, you might not even be able to beat a group of well-trained soldiers, let alone gain merit. Instead, first enhance your own strength to form a virtuous cycle."

"Is that allowed?"

Venezia was a bit puzzled, "Won’t it anger the master?"

"The master’s temper isn’t that bad."

Venezia considered it for a moment and nodded, "Alright, I’ll try. When I recover my strength, I’ll come and spar with you."

Kurs quickly shook his head, "The sparring partner I mentioned finding for you isn’t me."

Venezia frowned but said nothing.

Thinking to himself, you crafty vampire, you won’t send me to spar with a Knight of Radiance, would you? Are you trying to get me killed?

As if seeing through Venezia’s thoughts, Kurs quickly said, "He is also a pure-blooded Wolf Race, but he’s not proficient in werewolf transformation combat. You two can spar with each other and improve together."

Venezia nodded, "It’s that Hans, right? I’ve heard the master mention him. No problem, I’ll spar with him."

"There’s one more thing."

Kurs cleared his throat, "My lady has developed a potion that can greatly enhance the strength of the Wolf Race in a short period. The material must be the blood of the Wolf Race; the higher the purity, the better."

Venezia showed a look of suspicion.

"Miss Chelina and Hans both donated their blood; there’s a price for gaining eligibility to use it."

Kurs gently persuaded.

As a pure-blood Basilicata royal, Venezia’s bloodline level might not surpass Chelina’s, but the purity certainly would. His blood could potentially bring a better improvement to the Wolf Poison Potion.

At the very least, it would offer Chelina a much higher enhancement than the potion made using Hans’s blood and her own blood as a model.

Venezia pondered: "I’ll mention this to the lord, everything will be arranged according to the lord’s plan."

Kurs nodded: "I still have work on my hands, so I’ll take my leave. If there’s anything, you can find me in the nearby tent."

Kurs, who left, had a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. This Bloodthirsty Mad Wolf, wasn’t entirely a fool.

At the very least, he still knew, the lord would never harm him no matter what.

...

Early the next morning, the Crusaders, who had finished resting, finally formally embarked on their march.

A total of more than thirty thousand capable warriors formed into a column that resembled a meandering giant serpent. Cross emblems were scattered across the desert; supply carts and horses, camel caravans, jingled behind the column.

Along the way, every time they passed a castle or manor, the local lords would offer supplies as much as they could. Quite a few pilgrims carrying weapons would join the column. This was the advantage of fighting on the home ground.

But at the same time, some of the lords’ subjects began to stir restlessly, looking at those "evil" Crusaders with faces filled with resentment, perhaps secretly brewing countless rebellious plots.

Yet more of them remained indifferent to this.

Obviously, they did not believe Saladin was coming to liberate them.

As the bottom-level peasant slaves arbitrarily exploited by tax collectors, they cared little whether their rulers were Franks or Saracens.

No one could make their lives better.

...

Baron Fulk pushed a cart filled with butchered sheep, arriving at the so-called "Dragon Circle."

He looked at the menacing giant beasts behind the iron bars, raised by human effort.

"I originally thought dragon beasts weren’t anything special. In legendary novels, those knights... even a bunch of farmers could easily deal with them by sheer numbers."

"Now it seems, the only way a bunch of farmers could possibly win against such monsters is by stuffing them to death."

The man tossed the butchered whole sheep into an iron cage.

With just one bite, the ferocious dragon-like sawtooth fangs shredded a whole sheep leaving only the head and tail.

The middle part was swallowed whole.

"Stuffing these massive creatures to death is no easy task."

...

"I heard this Master Shemir cured a dying patient when he first arrived?"

"Not a dying patient."

"To be precise, it was a curse, dealing with curses is their field’s expertise."

"Can you explain in detail?"

"I can’t, as the host, I can’t easily agree to a slave’s request."

Baron Fulk’s expression visibly drooped.

But then he heard the man say with a smile: "But you are my friend, since you want to know, I’ll reluctantly tell you."

"She was the daughter of a powerful figure in Aleppo, cursed for her beauty, turning into a blood-sucking devil."

"And then?"

"Master Shemir sent her to liberation."

"That’s it?"

Fulk’s eyes were filled with astonishment.

"Yes, it wasn’t dramatic at all, but those innocent people harmed by her wouldn’t consider the process too hasty. If it weren’t for Master Shemir ordered to investigate this string of disappearance cases, many more could have died."

"I thought Master Shemir would lift her curse and restore her innocent body."

"Ha, where is there any innocent body left, at the moment of being cursed, her soul was already dead, fallen into darkness."

"Is there anything similar?"

"You’re quite interested in this..."

Baron Fulk had a sudden jolt in his heart. Had his desire to obtain information been seen through?

"But it’s normal, ever since those wicked Franks began using magic on the battlefield, many people started paying attention to the supernatural things they normally didn’t care about."

"Using magic?"

"Of course, if it wasn’t for the use of magic, how could those Franks see in the dark?"

Speaking of the battle of Kaler Castle, the man was filled with indignation: "That Losa won that unfair war by relying on such sorcery. I really don’t understand why you all admire this kind of person."

"So that’s how it is..."

Fulk thought of the elusive Kurs, who indeed didn’t seem like an ordinary person.

He might be a wizard, perhaps?

Fulk said somewhat insincerely: "In this manner, Count Losa’s victory at the time indeed was not quite honorable."

"That’s right, he started all this, so our king can only respond in kind."

He tossed the last sheep into the iron cage, looking at the ferocious dragon that was somewhat languid after a giant dragon had just passed overhead, and reached out to pat its head.

The action was daring to a shocking extent.

Fulk almost jumped up: "That’s too risky!"

"Haha, nothing could be riskier than trading blows holding a riding spear against those mongrels of the Knight Order."

The man casually wiped his hands on his clothes, whistled: "Let’s go back to the camp for two cups of fermented grape juice, I still have a lamb leg not fed to that ugly fellow—let’s set up a stand for barbecue."