As the four horses galloped wildly, Lord Saman's piercing screams soared into the sky.
The ladies watching this scene all took out handkerchiefs to cover their faces. So were truly frightened, but the vast majority were rely pretending. Among the brave ladies who dared to accompany the army, there were quite a few like Lady Stephanie, Reynard's wife, who were truly courageous enough to take up arms and fight like a knight.
"Tsk, do you Franks all enjoy watching such torture?"
Amidst a chorus of excited cheers, Abraham Abdullah, the Kurdish Cavalry Captain, asked the Ulm Knight beside him in his accented Gaulish.
Although the Kurdish Cavalry he commanded had lost more than half its n following Prince Salah, the son of King Nuruddin, they achieved only average feats after pledging allegiance to Losa, yet he was still a figure of actual power, eting the threshold to attend the military council.
The Ulm Knight noncommittally replied, "It's not just the Franks. Look at that Coptic recruit behind; isn't he also watching with great interest?"
In reality, Gallio was more than just interested; he was cheering loudly.
"Good, well killed!"
Abdullah commanded troops, equivalent to a rcenary leader, while Ulm, currently the Sheriff of Semanud City, oversaw hundreds of "Patrol Officers"; both were eligible to attend the military discussion.
Gallio, anwhile, had been elected as a representative of the Coptic recruits to participate.
After all, the two instructors of the Longsword Regint, Hans and Venezia, both held titles granted by Losa, allowing them to attend without needing a position. Since the military council was to vote on proposals, the more people, the better, and he was essentially there to make up numbers.
As the dismbered remains of Lord Saman were cleared away, Gallio's face remained flushed.
He could hardly believe it; the once high and mighty Lord Saman, who could drown small folks like them with a re spit, was executed right before everyone, and he was fortunate enough to be chosen as a witness.
This feeling was simply too wonderful!
"Everyone, the spy has been executed, but we must not let our guard down. The Saracens fear us, and their intentions to divide us are so apparent. We must elect a new Grand Marshal.
I, Philip Augustus, swear in the na of God, to ensure the fairness of this election and to acknowledge its outco."
As he spoke, he placed his hand on the ceremonial cross before him, indicating that his words were under God's witness.
After he finished speaking, the Crusaders present drew a cross in front of themselves, indicating their agreent with Philip's words.
Soon, soone stepped forward.
"Your esteed Majesty, I am Charles of Alsace. I nominate the bearer of the Holy Spear, Duke of Lower Egypt, Count of Transjordan, Military Zone General of Limassol, Grand Master of the Saint Lazarus Order, City Lord of Hebron, Lord Losa von Habsburg as the Grand Marshal."
People cast surprised glances in their direction.
Soon, soone identified him as the second son of the influential Count of Flanders, Thierry of Alsace, in Europe.
"I'm sorry, Lord Charles."
Charles retorted, "What is it, am I unqualified to nominate, or is Lord Losa not eligible for election?"
Philip II still wore a smile. This King of Gaul had a handso appearance and courteous manners, making everyone who interacted with him feel like they were bathed in a spring breeze, yet leaving just the right distance so as not to undermine his dignity.
At least, in Gallio's eyes, Lord Saman, who claid to be the descendant of King of Kings Bahram, just from a personal aura, wasn't worthy of being Philip's footman.
Philip sighed slightly in exasperation, "Of course, Lord Losa is eligible for the nomination, but this military council was partly convened because Lord Losa was unable to fulfill his duties as Grand Marshal."
"Duke Losa is undoubtedly the greatest hero of the Crusades. Without him, there would be no Semanud, Damietta, or Eira Port's continuing supply of military essentials. The Battle of Galilee, where His Majesty Baldwin and Lord Losa joined forces to achieve a grand victory, is still a source of admiration whenever I hear it recounted."
"But Lord Losa has been absent for half a month due to ill health. This is well known."
Philip aptly expressed his admiration for Losa, which also won the favor of many Crusaders.
Richard snorted coldly. If Philip hadn't previously proposed an alliance with him against Losa, he might have really thought this sly fox was a fervent worshipper of Losa.
"Your Majesty Philip exaggerated."
"How can you say it's exaggerated?"
Philip's brow furrowed as he was about to retort. Justifying Losa had no downside for him, as this strong competitor had already been eliminated in advance.
However, the voice ca too abruptly, sounding far away, yet as if it were speaking right next to his ear.
Not far from him, the Witch Consultant, who had used the Invisibility Technique, couldn't help but tense up. The speaker's Spiritual Power was quite formidable, only a hair's breadth from her level, at least a high-level wizard.
The voice ca from behind Gallio.
He turned back sharply, seeing the significant figure who once rode on a giant horse, with a wave of his hand, the thousand troops and horses behind him broke through the city of Semanud.
Losa looked at the Gaul monarch whom he was eting for the first ti, with a faint smile on his face.
He had never underestimated this most prominent monarch of Europe. If Losa's goal was to beco King of the Eastern Franks, then this Philip II was the legitimate King of all Franks.
In the tiline of Losa's previous life, it was this King Philip who laid the foundation of the Capet Dynasty, becoming the cornerstone of the most prestigious family in Europe until he crossed over, Spain was still ruled by the Bourbon Royal Family (Valois, Bourbon, Orleans are all branches of the Capet Dynasty).
But now, since you've praised like this.
If I don't acknowledge it, wouldn't it seem like I'm disrespecting you?
The Crusaders present gradually ca back to their senses.
"Who is that?"
"That armor... is it Lord Losa?"
A chaotic murmur spread through the crowd.
But as that figure raised a Holy Spear enveloped in golden radiance, all murmurs turned into waves of cheers.
"Hail!"
"The Duke is well; this is God's will!"
"Long live Saint Losa!"
The three sides of the Crusaders, regardless of their faction, almost unanimously erupted into a mountain-echoing, sea-roaring shout. Simply put, Losa's feats were too legendary. As long as he was there, he was sure to bring them victory.
Reynard of Châtillon gritted his teeth, staring intently at the man who had snatched away his Hebron and count title, who killed his adopted son, and was the most likely suspect in his ex-wife's death.
He clenched his fists: "This lucky boy, he's unhard... he's unhard again! God, why do you favor such a naless nobody, yet ignore , a warrior fighting at the forefront of the Crusades?"
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