History expresses the structure of the world, and all insignificant events are part of a whole. For the individual, history is constantly manipulated by language, customs, religion, and other invisible threads, and in this sense, history represents the bricks of collective memory.

The laws of history can be repeated in different theaters through time, so history is the lesson of rulers. To study history is to understand and manipulate the thread of human beings, and those who have this status will be mistaken by others for history itself, so Wang Biao formed a history book, and the brick system of memory continues to be strengthened.

This feature is especially evident in the horrors of the battlefield, where Napoleon in the armchair and Alexander on horseback are essentially one, they are the cold observers of the field, the ever-changing crowds and herds of horses are their puppets, the maneuvers of the phalanx and the artillery carriages are the expression of their will, the explosions and screams in the ears of the soldiers are as causal details as they are to them, and the actual operation of the laws of mechanism and randomness as the strategic whole.

At this moment, the Count of Meissenberg, who chose to resist in the name of the Emperor, and the Count of Pembroke who marched into Braunschweig under the name of the Duchess of Saxony are injecting a new historical interpretation into the land, and the consequences of the war will be presented in historical memory, just like countless place names that represent the course of history - Braunschweig is called Braunschweig because the ancestor of Meissenbeenberg, Brunn, once created a powerful Bruno family.

With the rumbling wheels of war were eight hundred battalion wives, and the Normans, who were good at sowing, although they could not guarantee the number of soldiers who would follow, almost stubbornly kept this special team fully full. Since the supply of women is sufficient, morale has been guaranteed at the most basic, which will not be the volume of the Tactician's Book, but it has been inherited by strong male hormones for at least thousands of years. A hundred years later, the Crusaders under Acre did not retreat because of a shortage of gunpowder, not because of the five carts of holy relics brought by the king of Jerusalem, but because of a whole shipload of washerwomen brought by the king of the Franks in a gunboat.

The military campaign was so successful that there was no room for heroes to be active, and Walter de Vernon, who had been ambitious before the expedition, began to fall ill after crossing the sea from Normandy, and was fortunate enough to save his life from dysentery, only to find that the war was a march on wheels and a constant siege. The bladders of tens of thousands of people made the camp outside the castle smell of the spoiled holy water after the funeral, the dukes and counts no longer appeared before the soldiers, the almost wearying victory had stripped all glory of the conquest, and people talked about the king's wisdom and easily acquired territory. Now even the princes of the Germanic emperors began to bow down, and the Polish princes of Proczyk no longer paid even tribute to the Bohemians, but appeared in the camp of the British army, scrambling to mock the emperor's mediocrity and debauchery in pagan language, trying to curry favor with the new Duke of Saxony.

In this atmosphere, Walter felt a sense of dissatisfaction in his heart, and he constantly participated in the siege, trying to regain the full dignity of the knight through battle, but he always knew that the enemy was afraid of the screaming fire in the air, not the spear in his hand.

Finally freed from the entanglement of a slutty woman, Walter, who returned to the camp, couldn't help but spit into the fire, but felt a slight pain in the backyard, and he looked up to find William, Earl of Evreux, in his tent, pouting a deformed horseshoe in his hand.

"What did the Spaniards send you there for last night?" The richly dressed Earl asked.

"Transporting timber," Walter said as he unsheathed his sword, "you know, all we can do now is repair the castle." ”

Earl William showed an expression that was indeed so, and casually threw down the shoe: "The war is almost over, and I will get the castle and manor here, I need manpower, how about it, are you interested in staying and defending my new territory?" ”

Walter was a vassal of the Duke, a member of the Duchy's noble council, and his stay in Saxony meant serving the new lord.

However, now that even a prince like Evler thinks so, and how many people will stick to the old legal system, Walter realizes that the wolves have chosen a new leader, and before he knows it, Robert has been abandoned by many.

As long as you can keep grabbing it, what does it matter if you follow the White Horse Banner or the Crow Banner?

Walter was also dissatisfied with this, if there was no loyalty and tradition, then what was the difference between a knight and a mercenary?

"No, I'm not going to stay." In the end, he rejected the count, "When the war is over, I will go to the East, to Jerusalem." ”

"You're crazy! Jerusalem? Now at a time like this? The Count didn't even bother to be angry, "You know what the people who have come back from the East are talking about, right?" ”

Bishop Thule had just returned to Franks from Constantinople last year, and the turmoil in the Balkans and Asia Minor was no secret in Normandy, but Walter seemed unmoved: "This is my final decision, my lordship. ”

William de Eiffel shook his head, knowing that Walter was still haunted by his father's death and was not happy to serve the son of his old enemy.

Count Evreux was now engaged in a private war with Rao of Tosny, and if he could win over Walter, his newfound towers and herds from the Saxon Wars would be safer, and a powerful knight would be much more useful to a newly conquered territory than a steward, a monk, an avologist, and a variety of agents, but he would have no choice but to give up if the other party had no intentions.

When Walter decided to leave the duchy, King Philip of France was attending the funeral of the Countess of Anjou, and after presenting the Count of Fulke with a molar of the Virgin Mary, he began to admire the magnificent architecture.

The rich and beautiful countryside of Anjou, all the way from the Loire Valley, was full of dense orchards and thriving villages, the black shadow of a beehive under the lime trees, and the rolling fields of green crops like the sea, which surprised Philip himself. After Anjou's strength recovers, what will be the next goal?

The Mass was over, and a monk who had finished praying came to the king.

"Brother Peter, I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect His Majesty to change so much."

"Oh?"

"The last time I saw Your Majesty, you looked like a proud stone statue, and now, if you are not wearing a crown, you are almost like a brother in the Order, and it seems that God has at last bestowed upon you the virtues of patience and humility."

Philip smiled bitterly and tolerated this bold comment, this hermit never knew what prudence was.

"Haven't you gotten tired of traveling?"

"I'm going to go south."

"Presumably, it was another glorious mission to some famous city or ancient monastery."

"A Circus of Crime – Rome."

"Are you going to meet the Pope, the most venerable Peter?"

"The Pope? A bucket full of filth, Caesar's puppet, a heretical monk. No, I will go there to look for the people of the Lord and then go to the Holy Sepulchre. There was a fire burning in the hermit's eyes, and as Philip had already realized, there was no earthly king in the eyes of this man, and all were naked before that king.

Philip saw that above the altar was inscribed the name of the king, INRI, King on the Cross.