"Which is Lothar?"

"The one with the Cuman-style mask helmet?"

The nobles who left the camp in groups of three or five and greeted them outside whispered to each other.

Among them were many Crusader nobles from the north, and although the name of Lothar was already well-known, they had never seen it in person.

"Look at that double-headed eagle!"

"He's in the middle of the line!"

Lothar was in the center of the entire army.

Behind him were two hussars, both holding high their spears with square flags in their hands, and the coat of arms of the double-headed eagle fluttered with the banner as if to come to life, fluttering their wings.

Lothar raised his palm and motioned for the army to stop and rest, and the melodious sound of the horn passed down layer by layer, and the huge army was like the limbs of giants, and gradually stopped moving with the order of the leader.

He galloped out of the procession, the cloak behind him hunting in the wind, and the dragon head pattern embroidered with gold thread shone more and more brightly under the scorching sun.

"A good horse, like a legendary unicorn."

"He is the pioneer of plate armor, and his armor is so beautiful."

The crusader nobles were amazed, the eclipse was fully clothed, dressed in horse clothes and horse armor, like a steel beast, and only this extraordinary creation could march under the scorching sun, carrying Lothar and all his equipment.

The other knights were lightweight.

As the lords on horseback got closer and closer, the crusader nobles who came out to greet them felt as if they were facing the charge of thousands of horses.

On the other side, it was clear that there was only one Lothar.

The man grabbed the reins, and the hooves of the extraordinarily tall steed were raised high, and the flying sand and dust set off the human figure more and more heroic.

He took off his mask.

What is revealed is a face that is diametrically opposed to the domineering appearance that many people imagine.

Young, handsome, with a gentle smile.

It really doesn't look like a powerful prince.

"Good day, everyone."

He nodded to everyone lightly, obviously a bit of a faux pas, but when he did it, he seemed unusually free and easy, which made it difficult for people to feel bad.

The nobles who had never seen Lothar had inexplicably felt a sense of witnessing a legend in their hearts.

This is the legendary dragon slayer; the savior of the Holy Land who had attacked Saladin's camp at night and forced him to retreat; Inventor of the Gwent brand; Possess the Father's beloved Divine Favor; the knight of the Champion who won the honor in Constantinople; Count of the Transjandan Frontier, General of the Military Region of Limassol.

"Good day, Lothar."

As the highest-ranking nobleman other than the king, Duke Raymond was the first to speak: "It's an honor that we can finally fight side by side together. ”

"I'm honored too, Lord Tebilias."

Lothar smiled and looked at the pattern of the plate armor on Raymond's body, and teased, "If you want to compare with me, who can make more achievements in this war?" ”

Duke Raymond said with some emotion: "I am already old, and I can't compare with a young man like you." ”

…

Under a castle northeast of Tiberias.

I heard a loud bang.

Polished round shells, with piercing screeches, shattered a wooden tower flying the Crusader flag.

The Crusaders defending the city had no way to counter this massive war machine.

The ballistas and trebuchets they mounted on the walls were nowhere near as long as the "counterweight trebuchets" built by Saladin's skilled craftsmen, which were later introduced to the East and became known as the "return cannons", which could even throw shells weighing up to 300 pounds.

Heavy stone projectiles could easily destroy the wooden fenders on the walls, and the rammed earth walls were crumbling under the bombardment.

The large battalion of Saracen's army stretched for dozens of miles.

They didn't seem to have any intention of taking the castle quickly, as the defenders had already lost their morale under the heavy artillery fire, and behind the castle was Lake Tiberias, the largest source of water in the vicinity.

They just hid in the camp silently, without the slightest intention of attacking with siege engines, as if they were afraid that the scorching sun above them would scorch them.

"What the hell does Saladin think?"

In the Saracen barracks, Baron Fulke sat in his tent, silently looking at the siege camp, the huge counterweight trebuchets, this kind of war machine, if it was taken to the continent to attack those scattered castles, it was simply suitable.

"Did he try to use Tiberias as a decoy to lure the Crusaders into battle?"

The young Frankish aristocrat frowned.

He was Baron Furk of Longidok.

He had previously escorted Renard's fiancée, Eleanor of Longidoc, to the Holy Land, but on the way out, she was confronted by Berber pirates and sold into slavery to a Saracen nobleman.

His luck was good, thanks to his aristocratic origin, his "master" gave him a high salary: a separate tent, a full set of armaments, and no need to do those chores, just on the battlefield, wearing the pagan armor and charging with his "master".

The days of being trapped in the "enemy camp" were not too sad for Baron Furk.

Saladin, the pagan monarch, embraced the Egyptians, Bedouins, Syrians, Greeks, Berbers, Turks, and Caucasians under his rule

Even the Franks.

On more than one occasion he had seen Franks enter and leave Saladin's tent, and they were dressed quite ornately, apparently even under Saladin, who were important figures.

Even if Baron Fulke had long hated Saladin, during the time he was in the enemy camp, he had to admit that Saladin was definitely a generous, upright, and benevolent gentleman.

It took only a decade for a comet to seize the supreme throne of the Saracen world, establishing a vast dynasty that stretched from Yemen in the south, Tunisia in the west, Armenia in the north, and Sassanid in the east.

According to Fulke's observations, Saladin's army composition was complex, with a large number of troops contributed by lower-level vassals, and its combat effectiveness was actually quite average.

But his army had a backbone that was the backbone of the huge Mamluk Janissaries, which he had not brought with him even the last time he conquered Reynard at Caleb, the most elite of which were the Casakian Guard, heavy cavalry equipped with men and horses.

Baron Furk had the privilege of observing this thousand-strong heavy cavalry as it charged at the rebels.

The army under the last prince named "Saleh" was a group of poor and tired creatures in front of them, and after being tricked, they were directly torn apart by these heavy cavalry who switched to riding spears and launched a charge.

Did the Crusaders have an army to match?

I'm afraid not.

"Is the Holy Land destined to fall under the iron heel of the infidels?"

Every time he saw those heavily armed and majestic Mamluk cavalry, Baron Furk couldn't help but feel a sense of despair in his heart.

To make matters worse, he is now one of these Mamluks.

Roar –

A low roar startled Fulke.

Many Saracen soldiers also complained playfully.

"The big animals are going crazy again, and I hope that the hapless keeper will come back alive today."

The source of the sound is the dragon beasts locked in the special camp, these are more than four meters tall, have sharp claws, can easily tear apart the giant elephant, charge not to mention the knights of the crusaders, and even the city walls are afraid that they will be smashed by one of their terrifying dragon beasts, so far, they have not really fought in battle.

But even if you think about it, Fulk feels sad for their enemies.

"The Count of Lothar should come, right?"

"He's a legendary dragon slayer, should he be able to kill these terrifying beasts?"

Baron Fulk muttered under his breath.

During his brief visit to Hebron, he had seen with his own eyes a specimen of the tanned dragon head.

It's just that he can't compare which drake beast was stronger than the drake beast driven by Saracen when he was alive.

At this moment, a shadow flew overhead.

Fulk subconsciously raised his head, his huge fleshy wings obscuring the clouds and the sun, and the black scale armor reflected a faint light—it was a dragon with outstretched wings and at least ten meters wide!

"Heavenly Father is above."

He drew a cross on his chest, his lips trembling with fear.

It was the first time in these days that he had actually seen that legendary dragon!

It's not a so-called dragon beast, but a genuine dragon that can spit out dragon flames and soar in the sky!

(End of chapter)