Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 471 - 251: Eve of the Final Battle

A pale blue light flashed across the vast yellow earth.

A disheveled old man fell to the ground, looking back behind him.

Fortunately, that female demon didn’t catch up.

And rightly so, the distance he teleported was hundreds of miles away. Even if that female demon could travel as fast as Shemir’s Fire Dragon, she wouldn’t catch up anytime soon.

Salman’s eyes were filled with the relief of surviving a disaster.

It was utterly terrifying just now; it was undoubtedly the most thrilling experience of his long life. He felt he was just a thread away from eternal slumber—he could feel the destructive power lingering on the female demon’s dual swords.

Once it touched him, death would be certain.

He waved his magic staff, and the yellow sand swallowed his body as if it were alive.

Foolish!

Absolutely foolish!

Salman’s face was full of regret and self-blame.

This is the consequence of easily breaking promises and agreeing with those secular rulers to engage in worldly wars.

The materials, if he just worked a little harder regularly, he could have collected them all over a few decades. Why throw away potentially hundreds of years of life for these things?

He swore.

If anyone tried to lure him away from his seclusion again, using any conditions, they would be his sworn enemy!

"No, I need to drink the Chameleon Potion quickly, maintaining the heart of the magic model is too exhausting."

...

Under the city of Gaza.

Watching the retreating Mamluk cavalry in disarray, Adil showed a wry smile, "It seems the honor of reclaiming the Holy Land will never fall upon me."

Opposite.

The female swordswoman, with her robe flowing in the wind and hands on her dual swords, looked at him with a calm expression.

Clang—

The fierce wind turned into an invisible blade, carving a deep trench in front of her.

Adil sighed deeply, raising an arm to signal, "Let’s retreat to the camp, and send someone to closely monitor this... female demon’s movements, report to me immediately if she leaves Gaza City."

His tone intensified, and he said to the messenger beside him, "Notify the King, we can’t take Gaza City."

...

In the Crusader camp.

"Hans, why are you here?"

Losa, who was handling military affairs, looked at the visitor with some surprise.

Hans wore a mysterious smile as he approached, "My lord, see what good thing I’ve brought you?"

In the tent, looking at Hans’ smiling face, Venezia crossed his arms and coldly sneered in his heart, thinking, "Flattery."

"This is..."

Losa looked at the yellow-green beans wrapped in white cloth in Hans’ hand, sniffing them at his nose, and asked hesitantly, "Coffee beans?"

"Yes!"

Hans nodded repeatedly, "You can try them; they have only a very faint bitterness."

Losa, somewhat pleasantly surprised, took the coffee beans from Hans’ hand, "Where did they come from?"

He remembered that in his world’s history, coffee became popular in the Arab Region only during the Ottoman rule as a replacement for alcohol.

Hans smiled and said, "There’s a caravan camp next to our camp, and today I went over there with a few royal knights and saw an Ethiopian merchant chewing these beans—they use coffee beans as portable dried food, drying them and then chewing them."

"Why are they green?"

Losa didn’t know much about coffee nor liked drinking it, but this wouldn’t stop it from becoming another pillar industry in his territory.

Hans hesitated and asked, "Maybe they’re under-roasted?"

At this moment.

Losa suddenly frowned, "Hans, wait a moment."

He took out the slightly warm emblem from his chest, picked it up, and heard Chelina’s calm voice from the other side, "My lord, I couldn’t deal with the enemy’s Caster, he escaped using a Teleportation Spell."

Losa was momentarily stunned but still asked, "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine... but he’s in poor condition. I pierced his heart with Demon-Blocking Gold; no matter how many life-saving methods a Wizard has, he won’t return to the battlefield soon."

"Good, I know, well done, Nina."

"Do you need me to rush back immediately?"

Chelina’s voice sounded again.

Losa hesitated for a moment but still said, "No need, Saladin’s dual offensives have both been frustrated, next, he’ll either withdraw the army, returning empty-handed, or give it his all. Time is limited, and rushing back won’t be in time anyway."

Fearing Chelina might act impetuously, Losa added, "Nina, Gaza City depends on you."

"Yes, I understand."

After cutting off communication with Chelina, Anna spoke, "Is it time for the decisive battle then?"

"Yes."

Losa stood up, stretching, "Saladin has two choices, retreat or advance. Retreat seems prudent, but after that, he’ll face endless internal friction, spending the rest of his life forcibly holding together the dynasty he single-handedly created."

His voice paused, and he spoke confidently, "Therefore, Saladin won’t retreat."

As he finished speaking, he loudly ordered, "Hans, give the command for the entire army to prepare for battle immediately!"

...

Meanwhile, not far from the opposite side of the Crusader camp.

In Saladin’s camp.

"Master Shemir, what is it?"

"Your trusted general sent a message; Gaza City may not be taken."

Expectation flashed in Saladin’s eyes, "Did Master Salman not make a move?"

"He did, but according to Adil, he likely died at the hands of the Frankish Witch."

"Strong?"

"Very strong."

Shemir’s voice was somewhat grave, "Adil believes that with the enemy’s strong reinforcement drawn away, it’s a prime time for you to advance."

Saladin remained silent.

His gaze was full of restraint, always

"What if the enemy has an even more powerful Caster? I recall, the intelligence mentions that Marquis Losa has two remarkably powerful Female Knights."

"Unlikely to be as strong as this one, after all, even killing a small Black Dragon was so difficult... ha, Saladin, you should know that there aren’t many Casters in this world who can reach Master’s Salman’s level."

Shemir’s assessment was quite objective, but he still said, "I must remind you, a Caster like Salman who is willing to fight desperately for others is very rare."

"Not including Master Shemir, right."

Saladin pondered for a moment, then said, "Normally, how long would it take for that Witch to arrive?"

Shemir shook his head, "I don’t know, maybe two or three days, maybe longer, or it’s possible she excels at Space Magic, or possesses such Treasures, and could appear before us in the blink of an eye."

"So, it’s still a gamble?"

Saladin was somewhat hesitant.

Shemir suddenly spoke up, "Saladin, what war in this world is absolutely sure to win? In the past, when you led tens of thousands of troops and were defeated by the Frankish’s little King with just a few hundred Knights, you certainly didn’t think you’d lose, did you?"

At the side, Taqidin was furious, "Insolent!"

Saladin, however, was not in a hurry and instead laughed heartily, "Indeed, having too much makes me overcautious, Master Shemir, please use your Dragon Beast to pave the way for our army."

"Alright."

Shemir bowed slightly, didn’t spare a glance at Taqidin, and then left the camp gracefully.

Along with a suppressing dragon roar.

In the camp, over a dozen fierce dragons confined in the beast pen lifted their heads one by one, roaring.