A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Odo arrived at dawn.

The fleet he brought with him quickly blockaded the section of the Thames River adjacent to London City.

Robert led two thousand horsemen before London City, surrounding its main gate. The Knights roared a challenge at the defenders on the gatehouse, and in response, the Genoese Crossbowmen hammered on their shields.

Back in Luton City, Eric had purchased a number of thin iron sheets. He now had some Attendants shake them violently to create a racket.

The shrill, piercing sound was unbearable, and the defenders on the gatehouse repeatedly covered their ears.

Harassing the enemy with noise was also a part of warfare.

Robert spotted a familiar figure on the ramparts and waved to the Knights behind him.

The man’s build was quite similar to Robert’s. He had sandy-blond hair, a broad face, different-colored eyes, and a slightly ruddy complexion.

What stood out more than any of this, however, was his belly. Though younger than Robert, he had the paunch of a middle-aged man.

This was none other than Robert’s younger brother, William Rufus, the third son of the great Conqueror William.

"Long time no see, my dear brother. What brings you here? Why not come into the city and join your dear sibling? I’m sure you must be exhausted after your journey."

"Ah, my dear brother William, it is only right and proper that you invite me. As your older brother, how could I possibly refuse? Then by all means, open the gates at once."

Robert flicked the reins, urging his Warhorse toward the London Wall, showing neither weakness nor fear.

Eric glanced at Odo beside him, as if waiting for him to make a move.

The look irritated Odo. He felt it was a slight against his years of battlefield experience, but he swallowed his pride and waved to the Genoese Crossbowmen behind him.

The Genoese Crossbowmen quickly assumed firing stances, taking aim at the defenders on the wall.

At the same time, the Flemish Spear Soldiers raised their shields, forming a protective wall in front of the Genoese Crossbowmen.

This was all arranged by Eric beforehand.

In the eleventh century, the Genoese Crossbowmen were still undeveloped in many respects. This kind of combined-arms tactic, pairing spearmen with crossbowmen, would not appear until the fourteenth century.

"England is but a small island nation. Compared to the splendor of Rouen City, London City is simply insignificant. It is far less glamorous than it appears, and thus, it cannot possibly accommodate all the travelers accompanying you, my brother. There are far too many of them, after all."

"No. England and Normandy are one, indivisible. Neither is more glorious than the other. In my heart, they are equal. England and Normandy hold the same weight.

England and Normandy welcome all. Their gates are open to any traveler who is brave, righteous, and loyal.

You think England insignificant and London City cramped because you see England as your personal property.

Even if a house is small, a generous host will never turn away a guest who has traveled far. For if the host is willing, his home becomes boundless. The bedrooms within, the courtyard behind, the Forest before—all are enough to accommodate his guest.

But a miser, even when offering a guest a single piece of moldy black bread, would find the act itself an unbearable torment.

A lack of space is no obstacle. The only true obstacle is the smallness of your own petty, miserly spirit."

The moment Robert finished speaking...

The army behind him erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Prince Robert! He is generous and merciful! He will wipe the tears of the hungry, so that all shall have food to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over their heads, and a bed to keep them warm! He carries out the will of God! He shepherds the flock of the Lord of Heaven!"

"Prince Robert! He is generous and merciful! He will wipe the tears of the hungry, so that all shall have food to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over their heads, and a bed to keep them warm! He carries out the will of God! He shepherds the flock of the Lord of Heaven!"

"..."

"You..."

Rufus flushed with anger, his already ruddy face darkening several shades, but he managed to hold his tongue.

"My dear brother, it has only been a few days, and you are as full of grand pronouncements as ever. But what is the use of it? As a son, I obey my father’s will. As a subject, I obey my King’s will. Is there any cause for complaint in that?"

"My foolish brother, I am of course willing to obey our father’s will—on the condition that this so-called ’will’ you speak of truly comes from his own heart.

I seem to recall our father was a man of great Devotion. He prayed to Christ three times before every meal and invoked the name of God constantly, even in the midst of war. It was under the Banner of God that he conquered England. Without a doubt, he more than anyone would wish to submit to God’s will.

And I stand here now for the same reason he stood then: by the will of God! As it is written in Leviticus in the Bible: ’He is the first-born; the right of the first-born is his... a double portion of all that he has’!

Who dares deny the will of God! And yet, I do not understand why a father so willing to obey God’s will would make such a decision. Who was it that changed my great father’s mind? Who whispered such evil words, causing him to stray from God’s path!

Tell me, my dear brother!"

At that moment, Eric began to chant loudly, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven!"

"Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven!"

"Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven!"

"..."

Then, Eric waved to Ansebel. Ansebel gave a meaningful look to an Attendant beside him, who then ripped the burlap sack from a flagpole. A brilliant red banner was revealed, emblazoned with a golden wyvern that seemed to take flight as the flag unfurled.

It was the sigil of the Wessex family.

"You... You... It’s impossible!"

Rufus snatched a Crossbow from a nearby soldier’s hands. Amid cries of alarm, a Crossbow Arrow shot toward Robert.

Robert instinctively tilted his head. The Arrow grazed his brow, leaving a bloody gash.

"I swear by the Holy Face of Lucca, England is mine! Father promised it to me!"

"No, my foolish brother. England belongs neither to you nor to our father. It belongs to God!"

Robert laughed softly. He wiped the blood from his forehead with his hand, then turned and spurred his Warhorse back toward his own distant lines.

The moment he reached his lines, the Genoese Crossbowmen opened fire. A volley of Crossbow Arrows flew toward the guards on the wall, and one of the guards hastily tackled Rufus to the ground.

The siege had begun.

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