Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 493 - 273: Military Funds Secured

"Fifty thousand gold coins."

Losa raised five fingers.

"I need fifty thousand gold coins. In exchange, I will use magic to preserve this Fire Dragon’s head and donate it to the Knight Order."

He carries a sacred aura like a Lord, and bargaining like Kurs is beneath him.

After Kurs found out the bottom line of the two Grand Masters, Losa decisively stated a "reasonable" price. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

It would cause the two Knight Orders pain, but not crippling.

In Levant, besides Saladin, only the two Knight Orders could offer such a high price.

"Pray tell, between a relic made from a Fire Dragon’s head and the dubious relics bought by poor knights for dozens of gold coins, which more clearly showcases the Church’s sanctity?"

Relics are not only widespread in churches, but many charlatans and minstrels (often one and the same) conjure up captivating stories while travelling and sell "relics" in taverns.

They claim these are locks of hair, teeth, or even jerky stripes from some saint, promising knights invincibility on the battlefield and revitalizing feeble men...

Pick any saint; if you piece together all the relics claimed to be his remains, you’d have a monster with dozens of skulls, tens of arms and legs, plus a heap of short tendrils growing in the groin area.

This proliferation of relics is due to the low cost of counterfeiting. Grave robbers can easily excavate a corpse and brazenly point to a hand bone and declare it the relic of some saint.

But a Dragon Head is different.

No church in Europe has yet to house such a relic.

Though the expressions on the Grand Masters’ faces showed little change, Losa could sense they were persuaded but still hesitating.

Gerard’s hesitation wasn’t about the cost but the thought of the Templar Order presenting this "relic" to people, which would also necessitate introducing the feats of Losa, who wields the Holy Spear?

Wouldn’t that be the Knight Order backing Losa’s achievements?

But then he thought, maybe he was overthinking. The sacred image of this worldly Marquis is already so prominent it’s impossible to wipe clean. Yesterday, all the nobles, monks, and soldiers who witnessed that moment would spread his deeds.

Armed to the teeth, he is destined to become a pivotal figure in Christendom.

"I agree."

Gerard spoke decisively.

Roger was stupefied.

There’s only one Dragon Head, naturally, first come, first served.

"And what about me?"

"Grand Master Roger,"

Roger made a cross on the chest of his black monk’s robe: "Marquis, Gerard and I are willing to additionally fund you and your army with a significant sum."

"But, I’d like to hear your explanation, what’s the matter with the Ghost Army now appearing at Eira Port?"

"They... are nothing but penitents unable to reach the Celestial Kingdom and stuck on Earth."

Losa’s expression was solemn, his voice firm and without guilt: "Grand Master Gerard, I ask you, has this Ghost Army ever acted against Christians? Even during my war with Isaac the Usurper, they did not interfere."

"They are sinners, but they are also Crusaders, remaining on Earth for penance, enduring torture every day, longing for deliverance."

"If even God is willing to grant them the opportunity for redemption, who are we to object?"

Leaving the Knight Order’s quarters, Losa glanced back. The knights had finished their evening prayers and were dispersing to return to their quarters.

The quietness here contrasted sharply with the clamor from the nearby camp.

Besides the thirty thousand gold coins from selling the "relic," Losa also borrowed tangible goods worth twenty thousand gold coins from the two Knight Orders, with interest...there was none, as loans from monasteries never carried interest.

What they charge as fees for safekeeping, transportation, or requiring the borrower to periodically purchase an Indulgence Certificate—essentially, that’s not interest.

It’s just under a different name.

This is the age-specific protocol correctness, harmless in trivial matters but clearly showcasing the Church’s authority.

...

Beside the campfire, a minstrel holding a lute was singing melodiously: "Sweet and lovely lady, I swear by God, only you in this world can capture my heart..."

The noblewoman across him laughed: "Enough of that, do you think I haven’t heard the stories of ’Dandelion’? Are you trying to seduce a noble lady into losing her purity?"

Dandelion, a beloved character from Demon Hunter tales besides Van Helsing, is known for his humor, charm, and endless wiles—yet he’s also a chronic flirt and compulsive liar.

"The Marquis must have a bias against minstrels to write such things. In truth, I am a highly faithful and devoted man. My wandering is merely to gather inspiration for my creations."

The minstrel’s voice was magnetic and pleasant, coupled with his handsome appearance and sweet words, which could undoubtedly sway many noblewomen.

"Lady, please allow me to continue reciting my verses to you."

He was clearly well-educated, meaning he was at least the son of a wealthy squire but more likely the second son of a noble, although this was not uncommon among minstrels.

To craft poems, even reading aloud those composed by others, required literacy, something impoverished commoners couldn’t achieve.

"Get lost, or I’ll call the guards. A charmer with only a pretty face, go seduce those naive shepherd girls! I hope not to see you chased by a girl’s father tomorrow."

The minstrel wanted to retort but suddenly froze, his gaze following the woman walking ahead.

"Heavenly Father above, there exists such a beautiful lady in this world..."

His eyes no longer lingered on the noblewoman who only moments ago he claimed to be his "one true love."

"This guy’s going to get in trouble."

"Ha, should we warn him?"

"Why?"

"He’s quite interesting. People like him shouldn’t end up on the gallows. I look forward to hearing more of his works in the future."

"Rest assured, the Marquis is a merciful monarch, but... he’ll certainly face some hardship, perhaps even have his silver tongue cut off, or the vile root below."

The noblewoman showed malice, and the minstrel’s quick "emotional shift" erased her last trace of goodwill toward him.

The companion sighed: "What a pity."

For those two things are sources of joy.

...

Jeanne, dressed in comfortable clothes, carried a basket of fodder.

She was going to feed her beloved "Grape."

She paused slightly: "Do you need something?"

"Lady, your beauty captivates me. I vow, you are the most remarkable and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Not even the Empress of the Empire or the Princess of the Kingdom can compare—I wish to recite a poem for you."

Jeanne teased with interest: "I know you’re speaking through flattery, but it does sound nice—you must not have met Ragaya."

Jeanne never prided herself on her looks, so she wasn’t bothered by the notion that the Empress was more beautiful than herself.

...

Losa lifted the curtain: "How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

Chelina’s face was very pale, her lips cracked and peeling. Clearly, she had been through a rough time lately.

"If it weren’t for you yesterday, Nina, your contribution was immense in this battle. How should I reward you?"

She pursed her lips, appearing a bit tense: "It was my duty."

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Losa asked with some confusion.

Looking around, he realized something.

He smacked his forehead: "Sorry, I’ll knock next time before coming in."

He swore he hadn’t given it much thought before arriving.

"No worries, please have a seat, my lord."

...