At dusk, Ulm and his companions rode their steeds to reach the army encamped behind a sheltered hill.

The newly arrived Winged Cavalry and Varangian Guards were a bit uneasy as they performed their allegiance ceremony to Losa, who would incorporate them into his Personal Guard.

Thus, under Losa's command, there were seventeen Winged Cavalry, and ten Varangian Guards.

The next morning.

The army set out again.

Marching in the desert was so monotonous and tiring.

Everywhere was a dim yellow scene.

The ruins of ancient buildings stood on the ground, with faded marks hinting at the civilization that once thrived there.

Ahead, black smoke billowed and spiraled upward, reaching the skies.

Vultures hovered in the air, seemingly ready to descend for a feast at any moment.

"There's movement, prepare for battle!"

Losa commanded loudly.

Two Knight's Squires, serving as Scouts, moved lightly and ventured ahead.

The Knights, assisted by their Attendants, began to don their heavy armor, while the Soldiers gathered around the baggage wagon, clumsily putting on their helmets.

No one could march in heavy armor under such climate conditions.

As long as enough Scouts were dispatched, the probability of being suddenly ambushed in the desert, even without armor fully worn, was not high.

"The weather seems unusually hot lately."

Inspector Andrew remarked as he donned his armor, "Though it's always hot this time of year, this year is extraordinarily so. Look, those valleys have dried and cracked."

"Why doesn't it heat those Saracen brats to death? They just must invade the Kingdom in this dreadful weather!"

Prajna assisted Losa, fastening the buckle on the back of her half-body plate armor.

Then Losa turned to help Prajna don the half-body plate armor crafted by Marles, with its chest bulging prominently.

"Looks like the legendary Jeanne."

Losa praised.

Prajna nodded slightly, fastening the heavy iron helmet.

No matter how beautiful a woman, wearing such iron armor reveals nothing of a delicate figure; Marles is a pragmatist with limited concern for aesthetics.

But it's still evident that Marles put "effort" into it, otherwise Prajna would have had to bind her chest tightly to fit into this iron armor.

Furinjira wrapped herself in a black robe, revealing only a pair of eyes.

Vampires are not sensitive to light, but it doesn't mean Furinjira likes the sunlight; the harsh bright weather in Jerusalem makes her wish to stay in a dark palace every day.

Soon, the Scouts returned to report: "It's just a village that has been looted, but the enemy has already retreated."

The army then resumed its march.

The soldiers were somewhat eager to remove the heavy iron armor, but Losa simply said: "The enemy may not have gone far, this terrain is perfect for the enemy to hide."

He immediately sent people to sternly prohibit those soldiers wanting to remove their armor.

His Personal Guard Winged Cavalry patrolled back and forth at the forefront and rear of the team, Losa did not need to explain to the soldiers why they had to do this, they just had to obey.

In the village, everywhere were ruins.

In the midst of the collapsed earthen walls burned black by flames were wooden houses and furniture charred into charcoal, still sparking with embers inside.

The air over the ruins twisted in the heat.

"Look for survivors."

"The enemy went deep alone, it's impossible to carry prisoners."

Losa shouted.

"But..."

Hans's face showed a trace of worry, with half the words left unsaid.

Sure enough, walking through a small alley, Losa saw on the ground, piles of severed heads forming a "head mound," headless bodies intertwined, casually discarded before the village church.

The cross was broken, tossed into the firepit and burned.

On the wall was a line written in blood—Repay for the massacre you committed a hundred years ago in Jerusalem!

The bloody lettering made many soldiers who had never seen such a scene reveal a fearful expression.

They didn't understand the meaning of the words, only thinking it was a curse left by the Heretics, causing them to become restless.

"This is the curse of the Heretics, damn it, we're going to be haunted!"

"Heavenly Father bless us, evil spirits disperse!"

"We need a Military Chaplain immediately to pray for us!"

Losa sighed softly.

He looked up, watching the vultures circling overhead, intending to order his men to throw the bodies of the deceased into the fire pit to burn— they didn't have time to bury the bodies, better to let them vanish in flames rather than be disfigured by vultures.

At this moment, his eyes suddenly squinted.

The sun in the sky was too dazzling, causing him to initially overlook the incongruous shadow hidden among the vultures, but now the more he looked, the more he felt something was off.

It was as if an evil wolf had slipped into a husky pack, utterly mismatching no matter how one looked at it.

"Damn, there's a falcon hidden among those vultures, someone is spying on us!"

Losa shouted, "Everyone, evacuate the village, prepare for battle!"

If they remained in the village, they'd be like turtles trapped in a jar by the enemy, which would be disastrous.

The herald took out a horn, placed it to his lips, and sounded a melodious call.

Some soldiers and knights who were unclear about the situation followed orders and orderly withdrew from the village.

At this moment, scouts that had been dispatched again suddenly rushed back, one of them had an arrow in his chest, and they shouted, "The enemy hasn't gone far, it's a cavalry squad of several hundred."

Losa asked urgently, "How many is several hundred?"

A scout hesitantly replied, "We stumbled upon them just over a small hill, they're hidden in the shadow of the ravine, we didn't have time to count, only knew the place was full of Saracen's black scale armor."

"It's a trap!"

Losa clenched his fist, fortunately, they discovered it in time; if the troops had relaxed here, removed their armor, or drank from possibly poisoned village wells, the entire force would face annihilation.

It seems the opponent also realized their presence was uncovered.

The dense sound of hooves rang out as a cavalry clad in uniform black Saracen-style armor charged out from the valley like a gust of wind.

In the sky, a falcon shot out like an arrow, leaving the vulture flock, landing on the arm of a Saracen knight.

He looked with surprise at the swiftly forming-up forces preparing to engage, and after exchanging words with his companions, the entire cavalry began to spread out, advancing towards the Knight Order.

Losa took the lead, guiding the winged cavalry and his knights forward to meet the enemy.

The imposing presence of over a hundred-armored cavalry immediately made the enemy's cavalry commander furrow his brow—this army was definitely not a rabble under some minor lord.

Laine loudly commanded his soldiers to place their supply-laden carts in front to serve as barricades and fortresses against shooting.

Some soldiers also relied on the still-intact ruins of parts of the village for defense; in such terrain, cavalry would find it hard to maneuver.

The soldiers of the Royal Knight Order, armed with shields, did not fear the archery of the Saracen cavalry; rather, they dreaded their devastating charges.

Getting closer.

Losa had already roughly counted the enemy's numbers.

Three hundred!

Three hundred light and heavy cavalry!

This was definitely not a small faction but an elite force under a prominent minister or lord of Saladin.

The officer leading them must also be a significant figure.

Realizing this was a tough nut to crack, the Saracen cavalry halted not far away, started to string bows and arrows, and began shooting towards them.

The enemy leader showed a disdainful expression.

Even though Losa's soldiers were numerous, in field battles, two legs could never outrun four.

These Saracen cavalry, numbering more than twice Losa's cavalry, were very aware that Losa's knights, weary from long marches, were definitely no match for their cavalry.

The enemy leader raised his hand, then lowered it.

The sound of loosening bowstrings rang out.

Arrows like locusts.

An arrow stuck into Losa's kite shield, its tail still trembling slightly.

His expression was somber; the enemy cavalry outnumbered them, and unless the cavalry engaged them first, the soldiers behind wouldn't have a chance to act.

"Furin, prepare to enact Group Bloodfall, we must charge once, constantly remaining passive under fire severely damages morale."

A round of arrow rain,

Except for one unlucky fellow, whose horse had its leg shot causing him to fall and break his neck, there were no casualties among Losa's cavalry unit.

Whereas the armor of armored soldiers might have some weakness, the cavalry's armor was almost considered excellent.

As long as it wasn't a hit to a vital spot or the mount, Saracen archery held no fear.

Which is why Saracens have started reforming their tactics in recent years, turning to training Latin-style cavalry for lance charges.

Losa rode forward to the front, shouting loudly, "These Saracen scoundrels who just massacred our Christian brothers originally intended to hide and wait for the chance to attack, like rats in the gutter.

But when discovered, why did they not flee like rats exposed to the sun, but dare to fearlessly shoot at our Royal Knight Order cavalry?"

"Because they aren't afraid of us, they know we are a weary force from afar, to them, we won't dare charge them."

Losa paused, then shouted, "But do you truly intend to bow to the vile Saracens' thoughts?"

"No!"

"We must attack, kill all these Saracen lapdogs!"

The cavalry roared in anger.

Losa shouted, "That's right, in the name of the Father, in the name of the Jerusalem Royal Knight Order, in the name of the winged cavalry, charge!"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.