kingdom of nations

Chapter 350 Recapture of Damascus!

When Baldwin and Cesar first attacked Damascus, the resistance within the city was resolute but orderly, showing that the residents had not given up hope.

In the end, Lazis decided to surrender to the Crusaders ahead of time. Firstly, since the war was not yet over, there would be more room for negotiation. Secondly, he knew Cesar and knew that the commander of this expedition was not a bloodthirsty and murderous person.

Thirdly, there were signs of shortages of supplies in Damascus.

Finally, it was Saladin's instruction; Saladin did this in order to save the city and its inhabitants.

Saladin's advice was undoubtedly correct. When the city was in the hands of Cesar and Baldwin, although a portion of the money had to be paid to redeem themselves, most of the Damascus's wealth, land, and homesteads were preserved.

Merchants were able to continue their business, and César even sent troops to suppress bandits and ensure the smooth flow of trade routes.

Apart from the largest Umayyad temple, other temples also allowed them to continue worshiping and praying.

Whether walking on the streets, standing in the market, or strolling in the garden, the people of Damascus were not attacked or harassed by soldiers, and their rights were not much less than those of the Christians.

If so, when Saladin leads his army to retake it, Damascus will suffer some damage, but at least its foundation will not be affected.

Now, let alone being affected, its foundation is almost broken.

Compared to the original Damascusians, these usurpers were far more fanatical. Their numbers were almost equal to the attackers, and with the fortified city of Damascus, they believed they would never fail—they not only intended to send the Christians back empty-handed, but also to press their advantage.

Watching the soldiers on the city walls, shouting and jumping, César thought of the Damascus residents who left without looking back. His heart was filled with complex emotions. Ironically, this Damascus was indeed more difficult to attack than the last time—because this time, the people in the city were no longer residents who wanted a peaceful life, but soldiers who were willing to exchange the blood and lives of others for money and glory.

They have no feelings for this city, nor do they cherish it at all.

They demolished almost all the buildings in the city to make catapult projectiles; or piled them up behind the city gates, completely blocking the passageways; or they packed them in baskets and boxes and took them to the city walls to use as rolling stones.

All the flowers and trees were uprooted. The brightly colored roses with their large blossoms didn't even get a glance of pity. The tall trees that had stood firm through several sieges were now reduced to firewood and wooden frames. The fountain was knocked down, the gilded scriptures were scraped off, and there were no fish or even aquatic plants left in the pond.

When Gian described the city to his father, he mentioned spacious and beautiful courtyards. Now, even if he were to come and see for himself, he wouldn't believe that this was Damascus.

But the benefits of plundering or seizing a city are immediate. Encouraged by gold, strong liquor, and women, the soldiers' desires and courage reach their peak. Ibn is also able to recruit more Saracen "scholars" who have received prophetic revelations, or knights and warriors blessed by saints, and even some Turks who seem to have their own gods. Ibn doesn't care about these things, as long as they can fight against the "Knights of Grace" in the Crusades.

Therefore, the attacking side did not make much progress in the first month.

At the very beginning of the war, three siege towers were pushed up.

These three siege towers were brought by Frederick I, but for him it was a risk-free business, as he had extorted them from the Byzantines. In order to conquer the Sultanate of Rum, Manuel I took almost all of Constantinople's siege equipment, which was then completely destroyed by a raging fire due to the negligence of Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, leaving only some fine charcoal.

But after this major defeat, Manuel I did not give up his ambition. He ordered the craftsmen to rebuild the siege towers and other siege (defense) equipment. However, the timing was wrong. Manuel I died before he could see the finished product. By the time the craftsmen were able to produce something, Frederick I arrived.

Frederick I looked down on the young Byzantine emperor, the Byzantine ministers who were still scheming against each other in the face of powerful foreign enemies, and the ignorant and blindly obedient Byzantine people.

After Manuel I's death, Sultan Arslan II seized some more Byzantine cities and territories. The Byzantines hoped that Frederick I could teach these hateful Turks a lesson when he passed through the Sultanate of Rum. This request gave Frederick I a perfect excuse, and he took the opportunity to extort a large sum of money, horses, armor, thousands of laborers and craftsmen, and most importantly, siege equipment—which he had originally thought he would have to make himself.

These three siege towers are part of it. It can be said that the craftsmen of Constantinople had extraordinary skills. The three siege towers have solid bases and strong supports. The tower bodies are covered with fireproof cowhide. The top platform also has railings and a canopy. At the bottom hangs a heavy bronze ram's horn battering ram.

Amidst a hail of arrows, stones, flames, and smoke, the soldiers painstakingly pushed the siege tower to the base of the city wall. While the knights fought fiercely above, the soldiers at the bottom began to push the heavy battering ram against the wall.

The battering ram did not disappoint. After dozens of consecutive strikes, the stone bricks at the impact point began to crack, and the dust falling from it made the soldiers cheer loudly, and the city wall trembled all over.

However, the defending forces also had their own defensive methods against the siege towers—a Turkic general who was a craftsman ordered his soldiers to bring over a black iron multi-pointed anchor. As the name suggests, a multi-pointed anchor is a common ship anchor—only larger, almost three times the size of an ordinary ship anchor, and with more curved hooks.

A Turkic general, whose strength was as terrifying as a giant, carried a multi-pointed anchor. After confirming that it was tied with a tough cowhide rope, he pulled it up and threw it off the city wall like a wooden ball.

The rope plummeted down, then tightened, causing the polygonal anchor to jump violently, nearly crashing into the city wall. It was only thanks to the immense strength of the Turkic general that it was barely pushed to the outside. He then immediately swung the leather rope with all his might, making the polygonal anchor parallel to the city wall, and it began to swing dramatically.

The black iron multi-faceted anchor weighed five hundred pounds or more, and with the impact of its speed, it smashed through the side panel of the siege tower, exposing the battering ram and soldiers inside.

The arrow slits on the upper and middle levels opened, and soldiers fired arrows at the Turkic general from inside. His helmet and lamellar armor were suddenly covered with many spikes that did not belong to him, but these arrows could not harm him. Someone shouted, "Ballista!"

He was referring to the ballista mounted at the top of the siege tower. The giant arrows fired by the ballista were originally used to deal with city walls and catapults. After people gained greater power, the ballista was also used to deal with warriors and knights who had received divine favor.

But the impact came again.

With a soft "thud," the multi-angled anchor embedded itself deeply into the wooden part of the battering ram and gripped it tightly. Then, the Turkic general and the defenders on the city wall began to pull desperately on another rope connected to the multi-angled anchor, causing it and the battering ram it was gripping to swing from vertical to horizontal.

The battering ram, which originally possessed only weight and sturdiness, now became the death knell for the siege tower and the soldiers within.

Each impact caused the entire siege tower to sway from side to side. After a few blows, people heard a crisp cracking sound. The knights hurriedly ran down from the tower, some even leaping off the steps before reaching the bottom.

The siege tower collapsed with a crash, turning into a pile of useless scrap wood and blocking the path for any subsequent siege towers to advance.

Upon seeing this, Frederick I was so enraged that his beard bristled. He immediately wanted to climb another siege tower to meet the despicable Turk on the city wall, but the second siege tower was in even worse shape—it was stuck no more than thirty feet from the city wall and could not move.

It turned out that these despicable Saracens had used a new method. They dug trenches a certain distance from the city walls, filled them with large clay pots, and then laid planks and mud on them. This way, people and horses could pass through, but once the heavy siege towers, as heavy as mountains, rolled over them, they would immediately crush the clay pots and then be trapped inside, unable to move an inch.

Moreover, Richard I was already depicted on this siege tower.

Richard, as a knight-king, was by no means a man who lived up to his name. Even though the siege tower was trapped and the drawbridge was still more than twenty feet away from the city wall, it still couldn't stop his rhythm.

He simply shook his head from side to side to examine it carefully, then looked at his knights. "Come here," he said to one of the knights, "I'll throw you over."

knight:"……"

Even if he had received a blessing, falling from a height of hundreds of feet while fully armored would still be extremely painful, especially with boiling grease, excrement, stones, and wood being continuously hurled down from the city walls...

But since his lord was Richard I, he could only sigh and say, "Throw me accurately, Your Majesty."

Richard grinned, grabbed the knight's belt with one hand and his thigh straps (used to secure the chainmail stockings) with the other, and lifted him high above his head.

The King of England strode onto the lowered drawbridge, and before launching his knight, he actually took aim—a move that surprised not only his knight but also the Saracens. They watched helplessly as a huge, steel-like human stone projectile (forgive me, it's really hard to find a suitable term here) flew towards them, even actually hitting a Saracen soldier…

With this buffer, the knight felt that this impact was not even as bad as hitting a stone wall at the tournament. He nimbly leaped up and praised loudly, "Well done, Your Majesty!"—or perhaps he felt that he should not be the only one to suffer this "special" treatment.

Encouraged, Richard I was even more excited. He grabbed the knights around him and threw them one by one onto the city wall. They immediately began to fight with the Saracens around them. At this time, both friend and foe were quite in sync. Because unless the numbers were overwhelming, ordinary people could not fight against the blessed knights or warriors.

After throwing out the last knight, Richard climbed onto the roof, leaping into the air just as he came face to face with a "scholar," who was tacitly positioned to guard where Richard might land—but Richard wasn't one to follow the rules. He immediately threw himself beside the scholar, wrapped his arms around his neck, and gave him a passionate hug.

Both men fell to the ground. The "scholar" hit the back of his head on the ground, feeling as if the prophet's revelation was about to leak out. He roared and fought with the shameless Christian knight.

Richard was waiting for this.

But the roar wasn't just directed at Richard; it was also directed at the Saracen soldiers. While their commanders and "scholars" held off the dangerous and savage Christian knights, the soldiers began hurling "fire chests" at the trapped siege tower.

The "fire chest" was originally a straw basket and box commonly seen in Damascus—it used to be filled with wine and olive oil, but now it was filled with grease, bitumen, and charcoal. They lit it and launched it with catapults. Because these things were not rockets or torches, they were not so easy to extinguish, and the places hit by them quickly caught fire.

First came the leather, the roof, the protective walls, and then the supports. The attacking soldiers desperately pressed down on the water bags at the bottom to pump water through pipes to the top to extinguish the fire, but it was a drop in the ocean. Moreover, as the protective panels collapsed, more wooden boxes and baskets like these were thrown over.

The fire quickly spread to the top of the wooden tower, and then gradually burned towards the base, until the entire siege tower was transformed into a bright bonfire.

Richard and his knights were in a rather dangerous situation. They were surrounded by enemies, with a defensive wall hundreds of feet off the ground behind them, and enemy reinforcements were constantly arriving, including ballistae.

One knight had already heard the dull thud of the crossbow, but it was too late. Even with the blessing, he was still just a mortal, a being of flesh and blood. He could almost feel the metallic stench of the crossbow bolt hitting his face.

But even before the pain arrived, Richard's excited shouts came: "I knew you'd come!"

Baldwin almost rolled his eyes. They were on the third siege tower and had even reached the city walls, but Richard was no longer allowing them to expand their gains... These Saracens were very cunning; once they saw the enemy reveal a weakness, they would launch a frenzied attack.

The Spear of St. George successfully shattered the ballista, and under Cesar's protection, the knights rallied together. Richard was somewhat unwilling, but when he looked down, a dark mass was already rushing towards them.

The third siege tower, the largest of all, was not only covered in cowhide but also reinforced with iron plates. It was originally the most threatening tower, not to mention that Baldwin and Cesar had already created a breach. However, those despicable Turks and Saracens actually carried the corpses from the city onto the city wall and threw them at the siege tower.

These corpses posed little threat, but the psychological pressure they instilled was unprecedented. They were not people who had just died; they were merely pale and stiff—they had been gone for some time. Because no one had collected or cleaned them, their abdomens were horribly swollen, like deformed bees, splintering raw flesh and foul-smelling pus everywhere they bumped into something.

With each one thrown, the guards on top would shout, "This one has smallpox! This one has diphtheria! This one has leprosy!"

When he heard them shouting like that, even Cesar's expression changed. In a densely populated military camp, what was the most terrifying thing? Of course, it was disease. No one dared to try and risk their own life and the safety of everyone else to prove whether these abominable beasts were telling the truth.

"This won't do; it's too much of a drain on our knights."

Baldwin said, and Cesar nodded slightly, after all, they would not, and should not, expend all their strength on Damascus.

They had already set fire to the city gates, but even Cesare's Greek fire, which could heat the bricks red-hot and pulverize them into white ash, could not clear the entire passageway—which was dozens of feet long—in a short time.

Moreover, the defending troops must have piled up even more rubble and debris behind the city gates at this time.

"How is the tunnel excavation going?" Cesar asked.

"Progress is slow, but it is already showing initial results. The craftsmen say it will take about four or five more days before we can get close to the foundation of their city wall."

Cesar nodded.

------

For the next week, the battle reached a stalemate, but the pressure on the two sides was different. Ibn was the defender, and their previous actions had aroused great dissatisfaction among the merchants. Ibn didn't care much at first, but for some reason, the caravans from Holmes and Hama stopped appearing, and the aid promised by the allies did not arrive.

On the Crusader side, Frederick I was eager to advance to the next city, as were Richard and Philip—after all, a knight's service period was limited, and their purses were also limited, but logistics and supplies were not a problem, as Byzantium, Cyprus, and Venice... their ships and camel caravans were continuously bringing supplies.

The Byzantines tried to deflect blame, but the problem was… Frederick I said that if he lost due to insufficient supplies, he would have to march on Constantinople on his way back to make up for the losses…

Just as Frederick was happily dreaming this dream, a servant approached the tent with a cup of warmed wine. "The emperor wants wine," he said. He was not stopped along the way, after all, people were very familiar with his face.

The emperor's attendants were asleep on the cot, their faces covered with wool blankets. One of the attendants smiled and drew a dagger.

The servant sighed silently.

"San Pelagius!"

The dagger fell, and simultaneously, a shield ablaze with pure white flames covered Frederick I. The dagger was a sacred object, but the assassin was not. Flames surged upwards, running straight up his arm, accompanied by a chilling howl that abruptly ceased. Frederick I snatched the wine cup from the assassin's hand and smashed it across his face.

The wine splashed, its aroma rich and intense. Frederick I instinctively reached for a lick, but Henry the Younger stopped him, saying, "What if the wine is poisoned..."

Frederick I snorted: "Pour me some wine."

The guards outside the door moved the body away, and young Henry poured his father a glass of wine. It was Cesar who reminded them that the Assassins had once terrified the chiefs, viziers, emirs, and sultans of half of the Arab peninsula. Although the organization was beginning to decline, they still needed to be on guard.

Henry the Younger's saint of veneration is the same as that of Count Étienne, Saint Pelagius. His shield is thick and sturdy, but its coverage is a bit small, so he has to pretend to be a servant and sleep in a tent with his father.

Meanwhile, a commotion broke out in Richard's and Baldwin's tents. Richard had cut the assassin in half. The noise in Baldwin's tent was mainly due to the presence of Philip II. He was wise, though somewhat...embarrassing, he insisted on sleeping with Baldwin and Cesar. Fortunately, Baldwin's tent was large enough that there was room for three beds...

The assassin who appeared in front of Baldwin's tent was also the most dangerous; he not only carried a dagger and a short sword, but also a leather bag filled with grease and sulfur.

“Whether Laziz or Saladin would use the Assassins here is a matter of probability, but if it's Ibn, he definitely will, it's just a matter of when,” Cesar said.

“I don’t think they’re anything to be afraid of,” Frederick I said.

“Because the Eagle’s Nest has existed for nearly a hundred years (it was established by Hassan in 1090), no matter how illustrious it was, any power that has not become a nation in such a long period of time will face inevitable destruction,” Baldwin said, his voice muffled as he slept, still wearing a mask.

Frederick I glanced at him and nodded, a consensus shared by almost all monarchs.

The good news is that the craftsmen have reported that the tunnel may be completed in the next few days.

This gave the kings a jolt, and they stopped sleeping and began discussing who should lead the charge once the breach was opened.

This person must be the most valiant knight. As the wielder of the Spear of St. George and the commander of the Crusades, Baldwin has an inescapable duty, and this is exactly what he hopes to do. Cesar will still be by his side.

Richard would not allow them to abandon him. “You try it!” he threatened loudly.

Frederick I was also eager to try, but was dissuaded by his son Henry the Younger. Although Frederick I was a veteran of many battles, such a charge had to be undertaken by knights and soldiers in their prime. Moreover, while they were fighting the Saracens here, they also needed their comrades to hold off other Saracens on the other side.

The Holy Roman Emperor left dejectedly, shouting for his soldiers to push up more siege towers, catapults, and ballistae: "Maybe I can get into the city before you do," he said resentfully. Young Henry shook his head, waved to the crowd, and quickly followed his father.

As expected, despite the defenders' continuous hurling of stones, fireballs, boiling excrement, and even rotting corpses, they could not stop the attackers from digging into the foundation of the wall—after all, they were buried under thick layers of soil.

"Is it a problem with the iron?" a soldier whispered to his comrade beside him. "Or is the soil here unusually soft?"

The soldier, who had once been a farmer, remained silent and dug frantically. He also sensed that the tools they had obtained this time were sharper than before—he didn't know how to put it, since sharpness was originally used to describe swords and knives.

But the shovel he got today cut through the soil as easily as cutting through soft butter. He didn't feel tired at all while working; in fact, he felt more and more energetic and excited as he worked.

Behind them, a group of soldiers were constantly hauling away soil, while some craftsmen were securing the tunnel with wood. This was necessary—after all, there were heavy brick walls above, and the tunnel might collapse at any time, burying everyone inside.

Today, the craftsmen work exceptionally fast. The pieces of wood used to support the pits are no longer haphazardly pieced together, but rather pre-cut according to the estimated width and height of the pits. There are also specially crafted metal components on the wood. When connecting the wood, they don't need to hammer nails or insert wooden wedges—that's not sturdy and a waste of time. Now they just need to align the inserts with the notches and hammer them in. Moreover, the support structure built in this way is both sturdy and stable.

These craftsmen had all dug tunnels during sieges before, and this time they felt a sense of security and comfort they had never experienced before. One craftsman even repeatedly touched the hammer in his hand; if they weren't still fighting, he would have even wanted to hide it.

He had never seen such fine hammers before, so dark and shiny. "These must be from Cyprus, right?"

He asked in a low voice, and the soldier he was addressing nodded vigorously and went back to his work—they didn't even need to load the excavated soil into baskets and drag them away on their backs. During this siege, some small wooden crates originally intended for supplies were left open, equipped with iron wheels, allowing them to easily drag them, thus carrying away more soil faster.

After the soil was hauled away, dozens of fat pigs were brought in, along with oil, sulfur, wood, and some dark-colored stuff—coal, which some people didn't recognize and mistook for stones.

Once all the flammable materials were piled up, the last soldier withdrew from the tunnel. He glanced into the distance and saw a faint flame still flickering slowly at the other end. It was a candle, placed under a rope, the other end of which was a brazier filled with grease. The candle burned through the rope, the brazier tipped over, and the grease inside, along with the embers, ignited the pigs, oil, and coal. The flames roared and smoke rose.

But the last soldier to retreat didn't feel any difficulty breathing. Outside the tunnel, two other men were vigorously cranking Egyptian fans, blowing in fresh air, and the fire grew larger and larger. Even the soldiers standing on the city walls could feel the oppressive heat. They had done all they could and could only helplessly wait for the outcome.

As the temperature gradually dropped, the situation seemed unchanged, except for the charred walls and mud... The defenders cheered, but before the cheers had faded, the city wall collapsed. It happened in an instant, as if an invisible beast had bitten off a piece of the wall. The smoke was still billowing when the attacking army charged forward. At the forefront was not Baldwin, but Richard.

Although... at this point, even Baldwin could only helplessly let him be.

Compared to the unstoppable Baldwin, Richard was more like a rampaging stone giant. Wherever he stepped, chaos and cries of agony followed. He didn't need to worry about his own safety because he had Cesar.

In the past, knights who could provide protection had followed him, but their strength could not withstand Richard's constant depletion—when Richard was engrossed in battle, he didn't care what kind of attack he might be subjected to—whether it was men, ballistae, or catapults…

A javelin fired from a ballista struck his ribs but failed to break through the barrier erected by Cesar, only pushing him a few steps back. Richard even let out a loud shout of praise!

"I love you! Cesar, I love you so much! You're amazing! I love you so much!"

Even the Saracens who were hit by his hammer didn't scream as loudly as him...

If they weren't in the middle of a battle, Cesar would have loved to stay far away from Richard.

This location was not chosen randomly. César had briefly ruled Damascus, and as a cautious man, this was a habit he would naturally have. The first thing he did upon arriving in the city was to draw a map. Of course, there was a map of Damascus in the Damascus Palace, but like any map available at the time, it was not one that César could trust.

In order to draw the map, he traveled to various parts of Damascus.

Most importantly, although Ibn arrested and imprisoned all the artisans as soon as he entered Damascus, especially those responsible for building and maintaining the city walls and towers, among the children who followed the Christians out of Damascus crying was the son of one of the artisans. His father was more prepared than the others, and he told his son about the weaknesses of the city walls so that he could use this to beg for his life if he were captured and sold.

The walls are not all solid. To facilitate the rapid movement of soldiers or to hide troops, there are passageways and rooms in the walls, and this section of the wall has a passageway.

Moreover, it is not far from the "feces gate".
As its name suggests, like all cities, Damascus's "Dung Gate" was the gate through which waste was transported out and in, and it was a gate that was rarely used.

But sometimes the manure carts would get congested, so there was this open space for them to stop or rest. It was a long, narrow buffer zone with no houses, no market, and no military camps.

When Cesar passed by, he noticed that the area was often littered with carelessly discarded trash—cat and dog carcasses, fish bones, and unusable waste. He even considered having someone come and clean it up and regulate it.

But this place has now become a good place for them to break through.

Although the defenders had tried their best to establish a defensive line here, the Crusaders quickly gained a foothold. Not to mention, there were three terrifying lions here. Richard jumped in front of the ballista and beheaded the operator of the ballista with a single sword stroke.

The head rolled to the ground, and the eyes, which were gradually losing focus, could not even catch Richard's figure. Richard was leaping onto his horse and galloping forward along the narrow but straight street.

"You know how he makes me feel, right?"

Cesar couldn't help but say.

“Monkey.” Baldwin answered without hesitation, and the two burst into laughter. Such laughter was rare on the battlefield, attracting a group of Turkic nobles. They immediately raised their bows and shot arrows. The arrows pierced the air and arrived in an instant. Their force was not to be underestimated, but who could harm Baldwin under Cesar’s watchful eye?
Baldwin gently spurred his horse, and Pollax leaped high into the air. His spear, wreathed in white light and blood, swept through the air like a whip, tearing bodies apart, shattering swords, and sending fragments flying in all directions, forming a dazzling skirt of deathly aura.

“Just say it’s good.” Seeing Baldwin turn around, Cesar quickly said. After Richard, he really didn’t want to hear Baldwin say anything like, “You’re amazing,” “I like you so much,” or “I love you so much.”

He felt that these few words were even more terrifying than the Turks themselves.

Just then, Richard's roar echoed from not far away. He had encountered a group of Vikings wielding axes and hammers. The Vikings weren't just found in the Great Palace of Constantinople; some had ventured to even more distant places. They accepted employment from both Christians and Saracens, and because they were tall, strong, and fierce, and relied solely on fighting for their livelihood, they were highly sought after by their employers.

This Viking group was no exception, but unfortunately they encountered Richard, Baldwin, and Cesar. Richard had already carved a bloody path through them, and then the two knights arrived together.

When the Vikings saw the two men, both clad in gilded chainmail and wearing golden helmets, they knew that these two, like the former, were kings and their most formidable adversaries, but neither of them backed down.

A Viking was knocked into the air by Castor, and when he landed on the ground, the horse's hoof slammed into his chest, shattering his ribs and rupturing his organs.

In his final moments of consciousness, he thought that since he had been killed by such a king, he would surely be able to ascend to Odin's golden palace.

On the other side of Damascus, cheers were also rising among the Christians, who had lost their morale after learning that the city walls had been breached.

They began to panic and scattered in all directions. Frederick I took the lead and climbed the city wall, smashing a guard's head open with a flail.

Seeing little Henry following closely behind him, he immediately became impatient. "Get back to your work!" he yelled. "Are you still breastfeeding? Even if you come with me, I won't give you any milk to drink!"

Young Henry ran away immediately; he was genuinely afraid of his father.

Although he was already nearly twenty years old, what could he do?

Because Richard, Baldwin, and Cesare's side had captured the walls first, Frederick I's competitive spirit was reignited. Although the victory in a siege wasn't determined by who captured the walls first, he felt that since the other side had already captured the walls, it shouldn't be a problem for him to capture the governor's palace first. Besides, there were plenty of fat pigs there—the envoys of the Sukhafi, the emirs, viziers, and governors of Homs and Hama. How much wealth had they accumulated... Frederick I and his knights could definitely make a fortune.

The Christian army was advancing rapidly toward the city center, while more defenders were crowded in houses and alleys. The Crusaders paid little attention to those who cowered and dared not fight. Whether they wanted to extort ransom or end the battle, the best way was to capture the Turkic and Saracen nobles first.

When Richard encountered the same group of Kurds again, a man dressed similarly to their leader ran out of the alleyway to the side, shouting, "Stop fighting! Damn it, Ibn has escaped!"

Upon hearing this, the Kurd, who was engaged in fierce combat with Richard, suddenly made a face, jumped back, and escaped Richard's attack range.

He put his fingers in his mouth, and with a whoosh, the enemy in front of Richard vanished in an instant, leaving Richard standing there bewildered—though he certainly wasn't very bright.

Baldwin and Cesar, who arrived later, were not surprised. This often happened during sieges; those with good intelligence would know that there was no longer any point in fighting and it was time to start fleeing.

Those who are not well-informed, or those who are too engrossed in the fight, will fight to the death, and of course, they will not have a good outcome.

As this Kurd said, when he saw that things were hopeless, the governor of Holmes had abandoned his original ambitions and sent messengers to surrender. But no matter which side his messengers approached, whether Frederick's or Baldwin's, they were defeated before they could even speak.

In the end, he simply stopped caring about all that and quietly slipped away through the secret passage he had prepared beforehand.

Not only that, he also brought his personal guards and an entire camel caravan, with the camels carrying heavy loads of gold and silver jewels, which he had plundered from the whole of Damascus.

He knew that what he should do now was to abandon his possessions and flee with only a few trusted servants—but he really couldn't bear to do so, especially since these things were also his way of giving an account to the Holmes nobles, and he also needed to appease his personal guards, as he still needed them to get back to Holmes.

But just as he abandoned the entire city and fled in panic, he saw a Christian knight leisurely emerging from behind the hill beside the path in the dim sunlight.

He was alone, and Ibn's guards did not slow down at all, seemingly wanting to kill him in one go and then trample over his body. A servant was also ready to lead away his horse.

But at that moment, the knight's squire also slowly raised a flag. He pulled the rope, and the flag unfurled in the wind; it was a red flag.

Ibn's face turned ashen.

The knight had already removed his helmet. He was dark-skinned and thin, with an ordinary appearance and an unyielding air about him. He grinned at Iben with a despicable smile.

"Greetings, Governor Ibn of Holmes. My master, the Knight of Bethlehem, the Earl of Edessa, the Lord of Cyprus, and the Governor of Damascus, Cesar, has ordered me to wait here for a long time."

(End of this chapter)