In the afternoon, Losa went to inspect the military camp outside the city.
The state of his own army was obviously good; since crossing the river, they had won several battles with minimal losses. Additionally, by implenting his orders, which included locking the camp gates tightly except for leave, the troops were well-trained, and their combat effectiveness had not slackened due to occupying a wealthy city.
But the state of the other Crusaders was not very optimistic.
They squandered the plundered wealth lavishly, spending their days either dead drunk or mingling among the won. Many Crusader Lords believed that once these warriors had spent all their money, they would be eager to fight again, dismissing Losa's suggestions to tighten military discipline.
This was an unavoidable situation.
The personal attachnt between the warriors under various Lords and the Lords was not very deep. Many warriors provided their own weapons and equipnt, and even if the Lords wanted to enforce military discipline, they would face great resistance.
This was an era of barely keeping afloat.
Losa had enough troubling matters to deal with before him and wasn't willing to expend energy on those warriors under the Crusader Lords. After all, as things stood, the Crusaders were still fairly combat-ready.
Regarding this, Losa could only sigh, thinking perhaps he was born into a society that emphasized strict discipline, which made him instinctively reject this chaotic, rush-in-like-pigs style army.
Returning from the military camp to his residence.
Kurs quietly appeared behind him, reminding, "Sir, King Richard and his followers have left Damietta, leaving only a Recruitnt Officer in the city."
"In such a hurry to act alone?"
Losa frowned.
He picked up the cup of tea from the table and took a sip, asking casually, "Which direction did he go?"
"Westwards. I suspect that this King plans to take a port city as his base in the East, to continually receive support from Latin rchants and Crusaders coming from the West."
"How many n does he have?"
"Over a thousand, including his Guards, so supporting Gaul-Albion nobles, and a group of admiring civilian Crusaders."
"Not too few. With magical assistance, launching a surprise attack to capture a big city like Damietta isn't impossible."
"Haha, our King Richard really is impatient,"
...
Semanud City, situated to the east of Burullus Lake, is a riverbank town, acting as the gateway into the central Nile Delta region from Damietta Province.
To avoid flooding from eroding the city walls, Semanud City was built apart from the riverbank harbor, connected by a simple gravel road, relying on cattle and horses to transport goods.
On the white weathered stone walls, a majestic falcon swooped down.
Governor Mahri raised an arm wrapped in a thick protective sleeve to catch the falcon, retrieving a perfectly preserved letter from its leg.
"A small group of Crusaders is advancing towards Bules Port..."
Bules Port, situated near the river mouth leading from Burullus Lake to the diterranean, serves as a forward post for Semanud City.
"Only a little over a thousand. It seems these Crusaders are already intoxicated by temporary victories."
Governor Mahri sneered.
"Send the orders, gather my loyal servants and warriors. Lord Adil will soon arrive at Buhayra, we shall take the heads of these Franks as gifts to Lord Adil, showcasing our strength!"
On the city walls, the Mamluks loyal to him raised their weapons and shouted: "Kill all the infidels, Holy Fire Everlasting, Supre!"
Semanud City, having been prepared for war due to the arrival of the Crusaders, imdiately started its mobilization.
All over the town, there was the sound of iron clashing, hooves clattering, footsteps echoing, shouting, and within a re quarter-hour, his most elite Forbidden Guards had assembled.
Governor Mahri felt a surge of heat within; an isolated Frankish army lacking follow-up support, numbering only a thousand, was an easily graspable soft target.
While many colleagues approached the Crusader issue passively, a decisive victory like this would surely earn favor from Lord Adil, at which point, the prosperous territory left behind by Governor Iben would surely fall into his lap, wouldn't it?
What of the claim that killing only a little over a thousand Franks doesn't count as a significant victory?
What a joke!
If their numbers are insufficient, then just kill so slaves to make up the count.
It's likely that with Lord Adil's usual style, he wouldn't mind this slight exaggeration.
A confidant approached, cautiously asking, "Governor Sir, didn't Lord Adil order us to wait for him before gathering forces to attack?"
Governor Mahri scoffed, "A re thousand Franks, is it possible that the elite soldiers I've personally trained with great expense can't match them?"
He pointed at those warriors wearing face-covering helts, spiked helts, dressed in scale armor and chain armor, equipped with riding bows, quivers, and Frankish-style lances on their saddles—his elite heavy cavalry.
These Personal Guard Mamluks were selected from the Mamluks, numbering a considerable three hundred.
Additionally, there were nurous ordinary Mamluks, inadequately armored, wearing only light armor or even no armor at all, fighting with bows and riding spears, still assembling.
The confidant wanted to persuade further.
Governor Mahri waved it off: "Enough, don't speak more. The Franks are fighting on unfamiliar territory, they don't know the marshes and shallows near Bules Port. We, warriors trusting in the Holy Fire scripture, possess territorial advantage, and our numbers are several tis that of the enemy. We will surely slaughter these infidel barbarians, demonstrating the Fire God's might!"
The confidant fell silent for a mont, then reminded: "But there might be Wizards among the Franks."
Governor Mahri nodded: "I've considered this, therefore, I've already summoned several masters and obtained so treasures specifically made for dispelling magic. Even if the Franks truly summon Evil God's magic, I won't fear at all."
The confidant frowned, looking at the high-spirited Governor Mahri, thinking to himself, why has this usually cautious governor suddenly beco so exuberant?
Was it not him when Governor Iben of Damietta, when his allies were in distress, remained unmoved like a mountain?
"Haha, Kel, you are too timid."
Governor Mahri laughed, then continued: "But rest assured, the approaching army is not that of the Frank Death God, Governor Losa's troops. This guy has just conquered the wealthy Damietta, surely engaged in a mad scramble for riches now, at this mont, it would be reckless to attack us. It's highly likely that it's just a group of impoverished, desperate Frank beggars; we're poised for victory!"
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