A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Rufus had fled, rendering any further defense of London City meaningless.

The only path left was to force a decisive battle with his father, Conqueror William, as soon as possible, and destroy his main army.

He had received word that his father was in Leicestershire.

To keep his father in the dark and ensure he still believed Robert’s main army was in London City, he did not take the most direct route from London to Leicestershire, choosing instead to march through the Pennine Mountains.

However, he had vastly underestimated the difficulties of marching through such rugged, narrow mountain terrain.

To make matters worse, he encountered a flash flood during the march. He was forced to abandon all his wagons and march on with only the food their horses could carry.

Many warhorses and pack animals died during the march. By the time they were about to enter Leicester, their food had completely run out.

The mountain region was sparsely populated. Upon entering Leicester, Robert had intended to conduct a few raids, but as luck would have it, just as he eagerly led his men to attack a village, he discovered that the villages in Leicester had already been emptied out.

This was his father’s usual trick. He had long anticipated that Robert would attack Leicester. ’Or perhaps the news that Father was in Leicester was deliberately leaked to me.’

They had no choice but to butcher and eat the pack animals that had collapsed by the roadside.

Pack animals were one thing, but the main issue was the warhorses. Warhorses were incredibly valuable. If a Knight lost his warhorse, he could no longer be considered a true Knight.

Moreover, many of the lesser Knights were financially strapped and could not afford the cost of a new warhorse at all.

The Knights were already beginning to worry about their future and were growing resentful of Robert. It was his poor command that had led them into this perilous situation.

They had originally followed Robert here in pursuit of wealth and new lands.

Now that they had lost their warhorses, if they were to face another defeat, they would very likely either rout or turn against him.

Therefore, Robert desperately needed a victory to stabilize the morale of his exhausted and fracturing army.

Although he had no confidence in defeating his father. Not even in a direct confrontation.

But his father preferred surprise attacks over frontal assaults; otherwise, the Old French King would have annexed Normandy two decades ago.

Thus, he could only pray that the humiliation he and Eric had inflicted upon his father during the siege of London City would sting his father’s pride, stir his emotions, and make him want to crush him on the open battlefield to wash away the shame of that day.

So, he had his father’s warhorse trappings cut into four pieces, each bearing his father’s coat of arms. He had them hung on four wooden frames and placed them at the front, rear, left, and right of his army.

To his disappointment, they were about to reach Leicester City, yet he still hadn’t seen any sign of his father.

Yesterday, they had reached the Trent River. Once they crossed it, they could reach Leicester City in less than a day.

An army is at its most vulnerable and chaotic when crossing a river. If the enemy attacks, they can easily cut the army in two, leaving its head and tail unable to support each other, leading to a rout.

His uncle, Odo, had told him that twenty years ago, his father had trailed the French King’s army, finally finding the opportunity to strike when the Old French King’s army was crossing a river, crushing them in one fell swoop and making a great name for himself.

However, just as he was preparing to send out scouts to survey the surroundings, his father appeared with his army on the opposite bank of the river.

And so, it led to the current situation: father and son, facing each other across the river.

Two weeks ago, the father wore the Crown while the son was bare-headed. Now, the son wore the Crown while the father was bare-headed.

The father and son, each on his own warhorse, rode onto the only bridge over the Trent River.

Both felt they should have a great deal to say, be it curses or even cruder words.

But when they finally met, they found they had no desire to speak at all.

Robert looked at his father’s bare head and wondered, ’Why isn’t he wearing his spare crown?’

His father looked at Robert’s crowned head and wondered, ’Why does my Crown fit so perfectly on this rebellious son’s head?’

"I heard Lanfrank crowned you. You’ve gotten your wish now. How does it feel to wear the Crown?"

William probably felt that as the father, he could not let his son speak first. It would diminish his own authority, and with his son wearing the Crown, remaining silent would be like acknowledging his status.

"It is what I deserve."

"Deserve?" William chuckled softly. "Did I give my consent? Short Socks."

"Nine years ago, you gave me your word! You said you would leave everything to me! Before you crossed the channel and came to this island."

"That was only Normandy!"

"And did you give it to me?! You didn’t even give me a single Hyde of land in Normandy! Nine years! It’s been nine whole years.

Were nine years not enough to prove my character, my valor?

Nine years! It’s been nine years! Do you have any idea how I’ve lived these past nine years? In the entire Catholic World, what eldest son has lived in such hardship and shame!

My father, do you know why so many people stand behind me? Do you know why all of Normandy has abandoned you?

Because they all believe that you! The great Conqueror, His Majesty William, King of England, have abandoned your eldest son to let your third son, Rufus, inherit everything!

Who caused this situation?! Was it me, or was it you! Tell me, my father!"

"You still recognize me as your father! For a son to rebel against his father..."

"There you go again! Always like this! You only know how to pull rank as a father, always obscuring the truth and equivocating!

I ask you, on what grounds does Rufus get to have so much more land than me! Why do you favor Rufus! Do you know what he did to me!?

I’m the fucking eldest son! The eldest! The eldest!" Robert roared at William.

"You..." William’s temper flared instantly, and he couldn’t help but raise his voice. "Everything I have is mine to give. I give it to whom I please. What I do not give you, you cannot take."

As if feeling his words had been too harsh, he added in a softer tone, "Isn’t Normandy better than England? This godforsaken island that never sees the sun, how can it compare to Normandy in any way? What’s the harm in letting your brother have England?"

Robert was clearly unimpressed by William’s cheap display of tenderness. He only remembered the same old arrogance from William’s previous sentence.

"Better or not, worth it or not... Father, you should ask yourself from nine years ago! Ask yourself why you crossed the channel, putting on such a do-or-die display!

’Normans must win their glory and fortune with the Sword, not through the empty promises of others!’ You were the one who told me that!

When you took this Crown, did you have Harold’s consent? Or are you going to tell me that my poor great-uncle, King Edward, tearfully clasped your hands and begged you to place the Crown on your head?

Even going so far as to unhesitatingly pass over his own grandnephew? The last scion of the Wessex family!" Robert also began to laugh, looking at his father mockingly.

"Insolence! Shut your mouth! Shut your mouth!" This clearly provoked William.

"I wonder who’s the insolent one here? At least I’m not gloating about how I deserved the Crown because of a promise from my great-uncle, while also calling myself the Conqueror!

Look, just look! How many sentences have I spoken so far? My noble father, whose words can you even listen to anymore? Mercy, compassion, justice, humility—I see not a single trace of them in you.

The way you proclaim your own supremacy is even more laughable. Your bullying of God’s faithful servants, your abuse of the subjects of England, your contempt for the Norman Knights, your disregard for ancient customs—your tyranny has become unbearable, to the point that even the kindest of men cannot help but curse you.

For we are born children of God, not born to be any man’s slave!

You delude yourself into emulating the heretical tyrants of Persia, but neither Normandy nor England are your galley slaves.

Because we fear custom and law more than we fear the whip of a tyrant!

Your arrogance disgusts the Lord of Heaven! Your sins are enough to damn you to Hell!" Robert snorted coldly.

"Robert!"

"No, my father. From now on, you should address me as ’Your Majesty’!"

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