A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Thus, Robert couldn’t provide cover for the retreating Belem.

Although Eric had drawn away a portion of the King’s Army Knights, they still held the advantage.

The King’s Army Knights who had previously been defeated and routed by Robert had also rallied. They now swarmed in from all directions, joining William’s ranks.

Belem led his Knights in a steady retreat behind the shield wall erected by the Flemish Spear Soldiers. However, the unhorsed and Dismounted Knights were not so fortunate.

The situation was grim.

The Lance Soldiers might be able to hold back the Knights temporarily, but William also had Archers. The shield wall couldn’t protect everyone. Given enough time, they would be routed.

Just as Robert was wondering what to do, he could only watch helplessly as the King’s Army hunted down his soldiers.

A moment later, however, the King’s Army inexplicably halted its advance, allowing some of the unhorsed knights to escape death.

Robert was puzzled. Then, he heard a powerful cry from behind him.

"God save England! God save Wessex! Saint George is with us!"

"God save England! God save Wessex! Saint George is with us!"

"......"

He turned his head and saw a dense mass of soldiers that had appeared on the opposite bank. Their hair was unkempt and their dress mismatched; some were even quite slovenly. They were clearly not of high birth.

They were clearly not speaking French, but English—the tongue of the Saxons, the original masters of this island.

They wielded great-axes, Bows and Arrows, Long Spears, and all manner of Infantry equipment, but they had no horses.

The soldiers in the front ranks were well-equipped, but the gear grew progressively shoddier further back. Robert could see men at the rear holding pitchforks and other farm tools.

It was a truly motley army.

Their leader was a very young man. Robert didn’t recognize him, but he recognized the banner at his side. It bore the image of a golden wyvern.

That was the crest of the Wessex family.

Then this man must be the one Ansebel had mentioned—Edgar, the last scion of the Wessex family.

......

After breaking out of the King’s Army’s encirclement, Eric and Leif charged into the nearby Forest without hesitation.

They hoped to use the trees to block the pursuing King’s Army Knights, splitting up to divide their pursuers once more.

Eric slowed his horse slightly, swung his Viking Sword, and easily sliced through a King’s Army Knight’s Chain Armor to open his throat.

Eric glanced back. This seemed to be the last Knight on his tail. He’d already lost count of how many he’d cut down.

’A pity I didn’t have time to loot them,’ he thought with some regret.

But on the bright side, he seemed to have shaken off all his pursuers.

Unfortunately, however, his condition was now dire.

A powerful wave of sickness washed over him. He was dizzy, and his stomach was churning.

The combined side effects of the Berserker Mushroom and the Frenzy Potion were proving to be worse than Eric had imagined.

Eric’s consciousness began to fade, and his vision started to warp.

The numbness from the Berserker Mushroom wore off, and pain flared up in its place. The berserker rage receded just as quickly, and the immense Power vanished with it.

An unprecedented weakness washed over him.

The weakness came on so fast that Eric didn’t even have time to react before he tumbled from his Warhorse.

In the instant he fell, before he even hit the ground, his consciousness plunged into darkness.

There happened to be a steep slope below, and the unlucky Eric tumbled all the way down it.

Fortunately, a narrow river lay at the bottom, and he plunged into the water, which cushioned the impact.

In the darkness, he bumped into things. Some were motionless, blood-stained objects; others were floating corpses.

The river carried them all along, just as it was now carrying Eric.

The stars finally faded, replaced by the first light of Dawn.

Eric’s consciousness returned slightly, but he remained in a hazy, half-dreaming state.

He thought he heard people talking by the riverbank, their voices reaching his submerged ears.

He felt a hand grab his arm.

"This one seems to be alive."

"Norman, Welsh, or Saxon?"

"I don’t know."

"Then do the same as the others. See if he has anything we can use, then give him a quick end."

"I don’t know if this is any good. You take a look."

"Let me see... oh, he has a fine Sword. We could probably use this. Wait a minute, this looks like a Viking Sword. Dammit, don’t tell me this guy is a shipwrecked Viking."

"But... we’re inland."

"Forget it. Whatever. The Danish are more or less our allies for now."

’Allies...’ Eric thought, relieved, as his consciousness faded once more.

He felt himself being lifted, his head jostled violently.

The light and embers of a hearth flickered before his eyes. A sharp pain shot through him, as if some evil blacksmith were using his head for an anvil. He squeezed his eyes shut.

When Eric’s mind cleared, he heard the crackling of a fire.

He also felt someone patting him down.

On pure instinct, he grabbed the hand that was roving over his body.

It was a soft hand.

He opened his eyes. As his vision cleared, he saw that the person was wearing a snug, grass-green tunic made of tanned hide, with grayish-white fur trimming the collar and cuffs.

Her fiery red hair was especially striking in the firelight.

It was a girl.

However, she wore a large hood that obscured her face.

"Wh-wh-what are you doing?! I saved your life!" the girl exclaimed, still not looking up.

Eric looked down at his arm. The bandage he’d tied himself was gone, replaced with crude strips of cloth. Some unknown ointment had been applied underneath; he could smell the scent of nettle.

’Healers sometimes use nettle for scrapes and cuts,’ he noted, ’but it’s not very effective.’

"And what about getting handsy with your patient?"

"Just collecting my medical fee."

The girl said it with conviction, yanking her hand back.

"Is that so?"

"Stealing what belongs to God... Aren’t you afraid of eternal damnation?"

Eric grabbed her other wrist. She tried to pull away, but even in his weakened state, his Power was not to be underestimated.

The girl couldn’t resist at all.

He turned her wrist over. In her palm lay a silver Cross Pendant.

"Tch. So your God’s Cross has Odin carved on the back, does it?" the girl retorted, then flicked her fingers to flip the Cross Pendant over.

The front of the Cross Pendant depicted Jesus on the Cross, but the back showed Odin hanging upside down from the World Tree.

Eric had accidentally lifted this Cross Pendant from Lagman.

Eric liked the craftsmanship, even if the subject matter was heretical.

He usually kept it wrapped around his wrist.

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