A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

"Did you see the men in ambush?" Eric asked, his brow furrowed.

"Not exactly, Count. It’s..."

"What is it? Spit it out!" Belem roared.

Belem’s shout startled Simon, who quickly showed Eric and Belem what he was holding.

It wasn’t a weapon, but a string of small wooden tokens.

"These people had nothing. Not even a single silver pence on them. Just these worthless wooden tokens. We searched the nearby homes, too. Forget gold and silver, we didn’t find a single Silver Coin," Simon said, frustrated.

He then handed the wooden tokens to Belem.

Belem applied a bit of pressure and easily snapped one in half. There was nothing inside.

Just ordinary wood.

"Nothing?" Belem looked toward the other Knights. They all shook their heads, indicating they had found the same thing as Simon.

"Those are their Silver Coins," Jesuade said suddenly.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." Belem snapped a few more tokens and threw them to the ground. "This is just worthless scrap wood."

"They’re symbolic. One token represents a person’s labor for a day, which can be exchanged for a set amount of bread or something else." Jesuade picked up the pieces of the token Belem had snapped, fitted them together, and handed them to Eric. "Brother, surely you know of this."

"And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people.

"And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved," Eric recited the scripture in French.

"Yes, brother. Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. And with great power the Apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus.

"And great grace was upon them all. There was no needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the Apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need," Jesuade chimed in with his own recitation.

"What are you two talking about?" Belem still looked completely lost.

Eric shook his head, speechless. He slapped the wooden token back into Belem’s hand. "It’s from the Acts of the Apostles. Did Anselm never teach you? You idiot. This is how the Church was founded."

"Seriously? That was the Church?" Belem asked in surprise. "Then what happened to..."

"Many things are beautiful at their inception, but with the passage of time, all beautiful things decay and become corrupted. Humanity simply cannot maintain the purity of the Apostolic Age forever.

"Isn’t that right, brother?" Jesuade looked to Eric.

"Perhaps," Eric answered evasively.

"So I just killed a group of devotees living out the ideals of the Apostles," Belem said, pulling his Longsword from the execution block.

"And what do you see, Belem?" Eric asked suddenly.

"Me?" Belem sheathed his Longsword and stared at the bodies littering the ground before the platform. "A bunch of madmen. Nothing more. Of course, that’s just my opinion. What about you, Eric?"

"I’ll give this opportunity to my brother. He may know more than we do. Let him lead us to the truth." Eric looked at Jesuade.

...

The Church was now likely the safest place in all of Alexandria City.

This wasn’t because it was the house of God, but because it was now heavily armed. The Civilian Militia in the towers stood ready, even though just a short while ago they had been using their Bows and Arrows to toy with the corpses of their opposition.

Fortunately, they had enough arrows that wasting a few was of no great consequence.

Unlike the deserted state of the Church from before, it was now bustling with activity—at least a hundred times busier than when Eric had passed by earlier.

The building was now packed with people, with countless more citizens crowding the Church entrance.

They weren’t there to show their reverence for God, but to save their own lives—relying not on their personal Devotion, but on the Church’s formidable defenses.

However, it was clear their entry into the Church was being obstructed.

"I have a hundred Devout Wooden Tokens! I’m one of the most loyal members of the association! You have to let me in!"

"I have two hundred Devout Wooden Tokens! Dammit, my uncle is an elder of the Patulin Sect! Let me in!"

"Hey! You bastards, let us in! We’re part of the association! You should let us in even if we don’t have tokens!"

"We’re supposed to be equals!"

"At least let the children in, you bastards!"

"What happened to all your promises? Did you feed them to the dogs!?"

"These Patalin Monks are liars!"

"No! They must be in league with the Normans! They’ve been corrupted! They’re going to sell Alexandria to the Normans!"

"Hey! You soldiers up there! If you have any conscience at all, you’ll come down from those towers and protect us! Don’t listen to these false monks!"

"Come down from the towers! You’re citizens of Alexandria, too! You should be down here protecting us with your Bows and Arrows and Long Spears! Otherwise, what makes you any different from the Marquis’s soldiers, you bastards!"

"Damn it all! Did we drive out the Marquis just for this? The bread you eat, the weapons in your hands—we paid for them with our money and labor! You sons of bitches, eating our bread but refusing to fight for us!"

"Stop shouting! They’ve already let all the soldiers’ families inside! They’re not on our side!"

"These bastards! They’re worse than the Marquis! At least the Marquis wouldn’t have barred us from the castle!"

"..."

Inside the Church, the Monks braced themselves against the doors as the citizens, enraged by this betrayal, tried to force their way in.

The Monks and a number of soldiers struggled to hold them back.

Hearing the shouts from outside, the Monks within grew agitated as well.

Though the Church had limited space, it was not yet crowded.

"We should let them in! What we’re doing now makes us traitors to our own cause!"

"Let them in? How could the Church possibly hold so many people? Besides, who knows when the Knights might attack. If they break through, it’s all over. If we fall, then all of Alexandria City is doomed!"

"It is all part of God’s plan."

"We will remember them. All Patalin Monks will remember this moment, so that we may never repeat this mistake and suffer such a loss again."

"Our choice is perfectly rational! As long as we can hold out in the Church, our brothers from the Patulin Sect will come to our rescue, and everything will be resolved!"

"And what about the citizens outside? You’re just abandoning them? After they put so much trust in you!"

"The time has come to test their Devotion to God. The souls of those who sacrifice themselves for God’s will shall ascend to Heaven. When that day comes, they will thank us!"

Just then, screams of agony from outside penetrated the Church walls. At the same time, the pressure against the doors began to ease.

"What’s going on? I hear screams of pain! Someone is hurting them!"

"Arrows! Someone’s firing arrows!"

"Where are the Archers coming from?"

"It’s the men on the towers! Bastards! Who gave the order to fire? Why are you shooting at our own followers?!"

"..."

"Silence!" A sudden roar silenced the arguing Monks.

The speaker was a middle-aged man, an elder of the Patulin Sect and the leader of the Patalin Monks in the city.

The elder struck the ground hard with his wooden staff and declared loudly, "The Normans are attacking! The Normans have shamefully attacked our followers, my brothers!"

"How can that be! It was clearly—!" a Monk cried out.

"I said it was the Normans. Did you not understand me, Fermo?" the elder glared at the Monk.

The Monk lowered his head.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures! Everything is for the sake of achieving God’s will! To set all things back on the righteous path!

"God will forgive us, so long as we establish His kingdom on earth." The elder scanned the Monks in the Church as he spoke. "Tell me! Do you understand me?"

"We understand," the Monks replied reluctantly in unison.

"Louder! I can’t hear you! How can you fulfill God’s will with such quiet voices? How can you bring His kingdom to earth?!"

"WE UNDERSTAND!"

"I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!" the elder roared.

"WE UNDERSTAND!!!"

"Good. Now, Fermo," the elder walked over to the Monk named Fermo and looked him straight in the eyes. "Tell me, who is out there hurting our followers right now?"

"It’s... it’s-it’s-it’s the Normans," Monk Fermo said in agony, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Louder! I can’t hear you!" the elder roared again.

"IT’S THE NORMANS OUTSIDE THE DOORS, HURTING OUR FOLLOWERS!!!" Monk Fermo screamed, on the verge of a breakdown.

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