Tarsus is undoubtedly the foremost city in the Zoroastrian world.

It has a population of over five hundred thousand, and during the peak of the Sassanid Dynasty, including travelers, the settled population reached over a million.

Unending caravans from the East and West conduct trade here.

Nomads from the North, chiefdoms from India, Turkic Tribes from Asia Minor, and mountain villagers from the Caucasus come year after year to pay tribute.

This is the origin of the title "King of Kings" of the Sassanid King.

The white-robed eunuchs shoulder the imperial palanquin, and the esteemed King of Kings sits cross-legged on this gilded ivory palanquin, overlooking the majestic Tigris River below the city walls.

He tosses a transparent pomegranate into his mouth, chewing as he asks, "How goes Saladin's offensive?"

Palace Minister Mustafa responds respectfully, "He is still firmly blocked at the gates of Kaler Castle, unable to advance an inch."

The Sassanid Dynasty is a theocratic state; the King of Kings is both the secular ruler and the universally acknowledged Great Shepherd of all Zoroastrians.

Bahrain VI, the Sassanid King of Kings, lets out a breath: "The valor of the Franks is something even I have to concede; to reclaim the lost Holy Land should have been my duty, but..."

His expression turns grim: "How dare Saladin presumptuously launch a jihad? Is this not the authority bestowed by the Sacred Fire upon the Great Shepherd?"

One's tools and reputation cannot be entrusted to others.

The King of Kings is conflicted, on one hand not wanting to reclaim the distant Holy Land owing to lack of tangible benefits; on the other hand, he is reluctant to let others complete this grand endeavor.

Mustafa speaks gravely, "My lord, reclaiming the Holy Land to retaliate against the brutal Franks is aligned with the people's will; Saladin is merely acting upon it. If he succeeds, his prestige will soar, though he cannot compare to you. If he fails, the forcibly united chiefdoms under him will rebel again, and his vast kingdom will collapse instantly."

Bahrain VI snorts coldly, "Not only that, if he incurs losses and defeat before the Franks, I will personally lead an army to punish him!"

Mustafa murmurs, "My King, besides, there is one more matter: the Khan of the Eastern Liao Kingdom (Western Liao) has sent an envoy inviting you to form an alliance, jointly resisting the newly risen Tatars on the steppe."

"Heh, that ruler of the Qidan Kingdom refuses to pay tribute to me; years ago, he even supported my inept brother, intending to divide the land, such a wolfish fiend, how can he be fit to ally with me?"

Bahrain VI regards this with disdain.

His attention and focus are entirely on the Mediterranean coast, where, upon capturing Jerusalem, Saladin's fame will soar, nearly rivaling that of the King of Kings.

Mustafa advises, "My lord, the rise of the Tatars on the steppe is indeed alarming; it is said even the eastern hegemon, the Golden Country, has suffered successive defeats before the Tatars."

The Sassan King laughs heartily, "The lands under my rule, not counting the fortresses and fortified cities, have a thousand named great cities!

The soldiers under my command, when gathered, could throw their whips into the Tigris River causing the river to stop flowing,

Did not the once illustrious Tang Empire succumb before my ancestors? The mere Tatars—let them and the Liao fought like dogs!"

...

This is the northern land far from Jerusalem, the cities amid endless tundra and Black Forest—the mother city of the Rus States: Kiev Rus.

A naked robust man fiercely throws the head of a giant beast onto the tundra outside the court.

The head of the giant beast is covered with black triangular scales, like the spear-tip-shaped horns, still coated with slashed blood and flesh.

As the head hits the ground, the severed neck instantly expels white mist, the flowing blood resembling sizzling boiling oil.

The Great Shepherd from Greece is startled, stammering, "Heavenly Father above, Duke, how could you disregard your safety to personally lead an attack on the Evil Dragon?"

Vladimir Duke, Vsevolod III spreads his arms, showing his unharmed chest to the Great Shepherd: "Ha ha, merely a proboscis dragon flying in from the North to overwinter, its body no larger than two cows—my guard with a volley of throwing spears made of Demon-Blocking Gold had pinned it to the cave."

"Tanning its head to make a display, I want to take it back to Vladimir to show my subjects my valor."

His eyes are sharp, suddenly thinking of something: "I know the Emperor of Greece sent you to recruit more Varangian Guards.

But I warn you, you must recruit people in the Rus Duchy I designate; you absolutely must not enchant or incite my personal guards.

Otherwise, I won't mind leading my army to join the Bulgarians, marching to the gates of your Constantinople, and capturing your Greek Empress to pour wine for me and warm my bed."

The Great Shepherd falls silent, nodding repeatedly, "Rest assured, Duke, I certainly will not defy your will."

The so-called Great Shepherd is actually just an ordinary Orthodox priest, caught by Duke Vladimir in this bitter land years ago, now serving as the link and messenger between Constantinople and the Rus States, having mixed quite well.

...

Transjordan, Montreal City.

When the Knights again step out of the castle, their faces are still filled with fear and disbelief.

"Heavenly Father above, could there really be the machinations of Evil Gods?"

"Is the lizard-like corpse we saw underground truly Sir Hanfry?"

"There can be no doubt, I've served Sir Hanfry since childhood; his little toe is broken, and has a deep scar on his nape from when he got hooked during play."

"Exactly what kind of person is Baron Losa?"

"Have you considered, only two types of people might be able to kill the minions of Evil Gods."

"One is a Saint, the other, a minion of another Evil God."

"Or perhaps the two women at his side are powerful witches? Didn't the Germanic Emperor construct a Witch Tower?"

The Knights' expressions are quite animated.

They say to their attendants and soldiers, "Stand back, Baron Losa is innocent; he is not the culprit, but rather a hero worthy of respect."

"Apologies, sir, we misunderstood you."

Losa magnanimously says, "It's alright; nobody can imagine that their devoted lord would be enchanted by an Evil God; this is rare throughout Europe."

Someone kneels on one knee before Losa: "Sir, please forgive my disrespect towards you."

Losa magnanimously says, "Ah, it's you, Knight, I forgive you, but your duel with my subordinate Pepin still has to proceed as scheduled."

The pockmarked-faced Knight instantly looks bitter: "Ah, this..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, my family members are frightened, still unconscious; the matter of appointing the Guard Officer, I'll leave to you, I must return to attend to them."

Saying this, Losa indeed leaves with Prajna, showing no intention of claiming control over the city.

Staring at Losa's retreating figure.

Someone murmurs softly, "I said she was a witch, if she were a mistress, he wouldn't be so blatant; if a wife, she wouldn't be so obscure among the nobility; if a maid, there's no reason to care that much."

"Heavens, an Emperor, a King, or a Duke gaining the allegiance of a witch is no surprise, but he is just a Baron."

"The current priority is to quickly nominate Montreal's Guard Officer, just as Baron Losa has said, maintaining Montreal's stability is the most important matter right now.

If unrest occurs, or if we fail to provide sufficient supplies to the Crusaders who come from afar, should the Count forgive us for failing to protect the young lord, His Majesty the King would not forgive our negligence."

The Knight spoke sternly: "Then, we will all hang at the gallows."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.