Outside Kaler Castle.

In the central tent of the Saracens.

With the cry of a falcon, the hawk swooped down.

Saladin unfolded the letter taken from the falcon, glanced at it briefly, and frowned immediately.

"Baron Losa of the Royal Knight Order..."

Saladin murmured softly: "Who is this? Why have I never heard of this name before?"

Adil pondered for a moment and then gave the answer: "It is said to be the son of Werner of the Habsburg Family, the latest noble of Jerusalem, held in high regard by the King of Leprosy."

(In the previous text, while looking up information, Adil and Adile Safudin were mistakenly thought to be two people, has been corrected.

"Safudin" is an honorific for Adil, just as Saladin's real name is not Saladin, it's a shorthand used by Crusaders for "Salah al-Dinar.")

"Ah, Werner's son."

Mentioning Werner, Saladin immediately recalled the battle of Hattin, the fierce knight riding a white horse, gripping a lance, resembling a god descended to earth.

"It seems that Zahir is quite fortunate, actually able to preserve his life under that fanatic's son."

Saladin coughed lightly, his health was not good, though not as dire as Baldwin IV who was terminally ill, but even with a large court of physicians, he was often in a sickly state.

A black eunuch presented a cup filled with a cold beverage to the two of them.

Saladin drank it all at once, tossing the cup onto the tray held by the black eunuch.

His tone subtly harbored anger:

"Zahir... I once advised him to stay away from slaughter, not to indulge and develop a chronic habit. For blood can only lead to more killing."

"But he didn't take my words to heart, despite conferring him my most trusted steward, he couldn't be counseled to return to the right path. He truly disappoints me."

Adil said in a low voice: "My King, should I lead the army to invade enemy territory and rescue Zahir?"

Saladin shook his head and said: "No, it's unnecessary, a ransom will suffice. Werner is a paranoid madman, yet he is a man of integrity, and his son must be the same. As long as the money is paid, Zahir will be released."

"Even if he isn't returned, we shall avenge him."

He paused silently for a moment and then asked: "How is Afdal doing in the North? Has he recklessly deviated from our original plan?"

"No, the Prince is secretly overseeing northern military affairs in my name, my old opponent Count Raymond surely doesn't anticipate who he's really contending with, surely not me."

Adil's face revealed a hint of approval: "Based on this, the Prince has gained quite an advantage. If not for your commands, he might have already conquered Tripoli."

"Ha, don't boast frivolously, Tripoli is not that easy to conquer."

Saladin nodded: "Is Taqidin still the same in Egypt?"

Taqidin, Saladin's nephew, has been appointed as the Governor of Egypt, and is a talented commander - though perhaps the title should be prefixed with "former".

"Yes, he is gathering prostitutes for pleasure all over Cairo. Last time I saw him, his eye sockets were sunken, and his belly was full of fat. I seriously doubt if he can still lift a sword."

Adil's eyes revealed a hint of helplessness for his lack of ambition: "I have reprimanded him, even beaten him, but after I leave, he goes back to his old ways."

"Adil, once this battle is over, you should go back and become the Governor of Egypt, let Taqidin follow my orders in the camp, he's really too outrageous."

To Saladin, although Damascus was his most treasured stronghold, the prosperous Egypt was equally an inseparable territory under his control.

...

In Montreal.

All the public bathhouses today were crowded.

"The Generous" Losa paid a significant amount of money for his soldiers, allowing all knights, soldiers, and logistics personnel to enjoy a full day of bathing, food, and drink services.

While people appreciated the Grand Master's generosity, they secretly lamented — there was wine, meat, and baths, yet missing one crucial element that battlefield warriors desire the most after a relentless fight.

As for Losa himself, he was enjoying a private room in the innermost bath with his confidants.

The bath was filled with misty steam.

Losa soaked his body in the hot water, slightly squinting his eyes, savoring this rare leisure.

Hans, immersed in the water, remarked with a bit of emotion: "Hey, this Lord Hanfry is really pragmatic. Upon hearing that we need to rest in Montreal and can't immediately go to battle against Saladin, he wriggled his way out with all kinds of pretexts, unwilling to designate a special district for us to regroup."

"Doesn't he know the Saracen cavalry we defeated were plundering his territory? If these Saracens continue to pillage everywhere, who knows how many villages will suffer."

"He knows, but may not care."

"If he cared, Lord Hanfry should lead his knights and go out of the city to intercept Prince Zahir's army."

Beside him, Model snorted: "Master Hans, not everyone values their 'subjects' like Lord does."

Losa frowned and said: "Forget it, at least he still provides us with free supplies, which fulfills his duty."

Losa suddenly thought of something and reminded them:

"By the way, do not inform Hanfry about our capture of Prince Zahir. If he knows, it might cause unnecessary complications."

Losa was unsure how deeply influenced Hanfry was by his stepfather, but he didn't dare take the risk.

After all, the ransom offered by Prince Zahir amounted to a full two thousand Suludes gold coins.

Moreover, Losa didn't want to become mortal enemies with Saladin.

This way, even if defeated on the battlefield one day, he had a high probability of redeeming himself and some subordinates' lives by paying the ransom.

...

In the bath on the other side.

Foggy mist.

Prajna's jet-black long hair lay on her jade-like white back. Days of rushing and battling had left little trace of dirt on her.

She simply soaked quietly in the water, and the temperature of the pool began to drop rapidly.

Furin folded her legs, sitting naked on the marble tiles.

She tied her loose white hair with hemp rope, stray strands stuck wetly to her cheeks, making her look even more alluring.

"Prajna, I think we need to talk."

Furin's tone, uncharacteristically, was lacking aggression.

"What?"

Prajna was somewhat surprised.

It was the first time Furin had called her name.

Furin sniffled, feeling somewhat aggrieved, "I feel we've fallen out of favor. It's been a long time since Lord told us a story. He often comes back very late at night, and when he does, he just crashes into bed, barely saying a word to us."

Prajna replied calmly, "Lord is a general, a lord, a future king. How could he delay his affairs for everyday trivialities like accompanying you?"

"Ha, accompanying 'me' also includes accompanying 'you'!"

Furin mocked, "Stop pretending you don't care—keep acting like this, and Lord will care less about you, forget you completely. If there's someone new, you'll matter even less. After all, what can you do? Apart from safeguarding Lord's safety, following like a shadow?"

"You were once a general. But you can't command troops for Lord or handle everything as orderly as Hans does."

"These days, Lord spends more time with Hans than with us. Hans was just a one-star before!"

Prajna was silent for a moment, then softly said, "If Lord needs me, I follow him. If not, I stay far away. All I can do is not add trouble for him."

Furin raised her voice, "I can't! I want to add trouble for Lord. I want Lord to accompany me, tell me bedtime stories. I want Lord to think of me in everything, and when he has money, regain my power first. In the future, even with new pretty flirts, he should keep me cherished at the core!"

Prajna opened her mouth but didn't speak.

Furin dipped her fingers into the pool, where the water was already icy cold.

The mist in the bathroom gradually dissipated.

Furin said smugly, "See, you're not as generous as you claim!"

Prajna stood up, revealing her enchanting figure to Furin, her tall 1.8-meter frame and magnificent chest looming like a shadow over Furin.

Furin's tone weakened, "What, what do you want? Getting angry, do you want to hit me?"

Prajna shook her head, hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Is my body beautiful?"

Furin immediately showed a dismissive expression, "Tch, just this?"

Prajna emphasized, "Seriously, if you want to deepen relations with Lord, you should take further steps. As you said, can't always wait for Lord to come to us."

"Huh? You mean..."

A blush quickly rose to Furin's pale face, she stammered, "No, no, that's too fast. You can't do that. You're too cunning!"

Prajna's lips curled slightly.

She reached out, gently stroked Furin's chin, "So, is it really just talk from you, right?"

Ignoring Furin, she donned her robe and walked out.

"Wait... wait a moment."

Furin hurriedly said, "No, you absolutely can't do such shameless things; it's too outrageous. It's a violation, you know!"

What was left for her was Prajna's exquisite silhouette, not looking back.

She never intended to do it, just her heartstrings plucked by Furin's words, rarely stirred a sense of competitiveness.

If I strive, none of you will be contenders!

No one coming after either!

Prajna's indifferent gaze brimmed with confidence.

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