On the streets of Jerusalem's Old City, pilgrims who have come from afar are worshipping the "Via Dolorosa," translated as the "Way of Suffering."

Legend has it that Jesus bore the cross here and ascended Mount Calvary on the path of his passion.

On this street leading to the mountain, pilgrims from afar are everywhere.

They kneel on the ground, worshipping devoutly.

Beside Losa's feet, not far away, an elderly man in tattered clothes is crawling on the ground.

He continuously kisses the stones on the ground, chanting prayers softly, allowing sharp gravel to rub raw a patch on his forehead.

Losa cannot clearly hear what he is saying, but vaguely discerns that he speaks Latin.

Gaulish is derived from Latin, mixed with many Germanic language words.

Although Losa speaks only Gaulish and not Latin, he can still identify what language the man is speaking.

This old man's beard is white, his body aged, his movements slow.

Once again, he prostrated himself on the ground, resting his head on the uneven stones, his rigid body not rising for a long time.

He died.

Someone joyfully exclaimed: "Old John ascended here; this enviable old fellow, the Heavenly Father forgave him all his past sins!"

Losa had no desire to climb Mount Calvary again to gaze upon the Holy Sepulchre Cathedral.

He was about to leave.

But at this moment, a familiar figure appeared before him.

This person held a Bible, wearing a white holy robe, and shouted loudly:

"The Holy Land is in peril, pilgrims from afar, your devotion is touching, but mere worship cannot entirely cleanse your sins."

The pilgrims looked at each other.

Someone expressed their grief: "Oh God, merciful Lord, even at this place closest to the Celestial Kingdom, is it true the gates of the Celestial Kingdom cannot open for us?"

"Did old John not ascend to the Celestial Kingdom at all?"

Someone asked with a sobbing tone: "How can we achieve redemption? We've paid so much, too much."

Amid the noisy crowd, the priest spoke again:

"Saladin's evil minions are gathering, the heretics' army has surrounded the Holy Land; only by protecting it and dying in battle against heretics can you attain true redemption!"

He waved the Bible in his hands, as if what he just said could all be footnoted in this book.

"Join the Crusaders, all who can take up weapons, go fight; all who can offer money, go donate; all who can work, go labor; we will surely achieve final victory."

The pilgrims' fervor was quickly stirred up: "May the Heavenly Father bless us, we will fight till the end!"

The priest raised his voice, shouting: "In the name of Jerusalem, in the name of the Father, fight for the Heavenly Father, kill all the heretics!"

"In the name of the Father!"

The pilgrims cheered one after another, immediately ceasing their worship and flocking around the priest heading down the mountain.

Losa frowned.

This priest was certainly an old acquaintance.

He was Father Beckett, who had traveled to the Holy Land with Losa by ship.

Now it seems he has received official priesthood and is exerting his adept "preaching" abilities in the Holy Land.

Losa felt no joy at the reunion with an old friend; instead, he felt a touch of discomfort in his heart.

He looked at the few pilgrims who were elderly, without the ability to work, and penniless.

These people were a bit dazed and stayed where they were.

They didn't know if they could still receive redemption; what the priest had said when they set out from the small town—that reaching the Holy Land and confessing their sins would grant redemption—whether that still held true?

Perhaps, it never did.

…

Constant Manor.

Losa handed the reins to Laine: "Is there trouble in recruiting blacksmiths and carpenters?"

Laine, somewhat ashamed, said: "Indeed, Lord, all blacksmiths have been recruited by various Lords in Jerusalem, but there are two carpenters, their skills are quite good, one even built siege equipment for Count Raymond."

"That's good, as for the blacksmith... let it rest for now; let these two carpenters pack with their families and prepare to return to the territory with us."

Not surprisingly to Losa, Jerusalem City had already been mobilized for war, making it challenging to hire blacksmiths.

Laine responded, "Yes," then responded with excitement: "Terr... territory?"

His face lit up with excitement: "Lord, have you gained a fief?"

Losa shook his head: "It's not a fief, it's a domain; His Majesty the King has enfeoffed me as Baron of Jorgelisburg, and I already have the qualifications to confer knighthood."

He patted Laine's shoulder: "You must work hard, as long as you and Model accumulate enough merit, I will not begrudge a knight's title and fief."

Laine appeared eager: "Lord, I assure you, I will definitely earn merits."

"As for Model, let him give the new recruits a feast to celebrate my elevation to Baron. Also, this afternoon we must take them out for training; they've been in closed training long enough, and it's time for Jerusalem's nobles to witness the military skills of our Habsburg Family."

"Yes, Lord. I assure you they won't disgrace you!"

Laine said resolutely.

Returning to the room.

Losa immediately used the Extraordinary Servant Lottery Ticket.

Different from a regular card draw, this time, he didn't have the opportunity to observe the card's attributes in advance; emerald light radiated brightly.

The light, with nowhere to go in the closed room, ultimately converged before Losa, forming a giant man over two meters tall, shirtless, holding a hammer.

His information immediately appeared.

Blacksmith Malles.

Quality: Extraordinary (Four-Star)

Level: 1

Intimacy: Cold

Power: 25

Agility: 5

Physical Strength: 10

Endurance: 20

Spiritual Power: 5

Skills: Master of Casting [Blacksmith Malles excels in crafting various weapons and armor, his skills are outstanding, deserving the name of master]

Introduction: Blacksmith Malles was once the chief Master Craftsman of the Blacksmith Guild in the Po·Li Federation; he crafted a fully enclosed armor for King Jagelon VIII of the Po·Li Federation, but was ultimately pierced effortlessly by the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order in East Prussia, wielding the Divine Artifact [Cross Holy Spear], thus resulting in his exile.

"Blacksmith?"

Losa's eyes brightened.

Thank the Heavenly Father; whatever was desired seems to come true.

Seemingly smoked too long by fireworks, Malles's voice was very hoarse: "Are you my Lord?"

Losa nodded: "That's right, I am Losa von Habsburg, the Lord of Jorgelisburg, enfeoffed by His Majesty Baldwin IV of the Kingdom of Jerusalem."

Malles lowered his head, his vast body kneeling like a small mountain: "Malles is willing to serve you."

Losa helped him up, face solemn: "I assure you, Mr. Malles, the unjust treatment you suffered in the Po·Li Federation will never happen to you here."

He respects Malles greatly.

Not just because Malles is a Four-Star Attendant, but because of his identity; he is definitely a talent with the most advanced armor casting knowledge.

Far superior to the Lombards.

He could even in the Holy Land, spark an armor revolution sweeping Eurasia.

Malles slightly nodded, also a taciturn and dull man, showing no emotional fluctuation.

But these pretty words from Losa weren't without meaning; at least, his intimacy saw a slight increase, though the extent was insignificant.

"Come, Malles, let me introduce you."

Losa pushed open the door and went out.

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