People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 886: The New Kingdom (Long Live the Working People)
The dusty Crusader scouts stood on the mound outside Damascus, their clothes and armors stained with blood, which were the medals left by their battles with the Saracen scouts along the way.

They ran around the city, drawing all kinds of patterns.

Under the scorching sun, the tall and thick city walls of Damascus stretch out like a coiled giant python on earth, guarding the city tightly in its arms.

On the city wall, tall and sturdy towers are distributed in an orderly manner.

According to Crusaders' records, during the First Crusade, Antioch had four hundred towers and a solid city wall twelve kilometers long.

Although Damascus was not as big as Antioch in its heyday, it also had more than 200 towers, and their distribution was very particular. If any part of the city wall was attacked, it would have to withstand the crossfire of several towers.

The "arrow shields" and "shield formations" that were set up during the attack on the city of Homs were ineffective against such fortifications.

"This is the legendary Damascus, the capital of the Saracens!"

Leopold and Lothar, leading dozens of Winged Hussars, stopped on a hill.

He could not help but exclaim that, apart from Alexandria, this was the most magnificent city he had ever seen, with towering minarets, tall sacred fire temples, and rows of white buildings that reflected a sacred light under the scorching sun.

The Syrian region is not a desert as widely rumored. Later news, including many film and television works, have portrayed this place as a desert.

But how could the Fertile Crescent, which gave birth to many great cities such as Damascus, Aleppo, Antioch, Baghdad, and Ctesiphon, be barren?

Sometimes, just by climbing over a hill, you can see lush forests and gurgling streams flowing in the mountains.

This is truly the center of the world.

To grasp this place is to grasp the heart of the entire Eurasian continent.

Losa was stunned as he looked at this magnificent city which was not much inferior to Alexandria and Cairo, could accommodate hundreds of thousands of people and was far superior to Jerusalem.

He will be crowned king of the Kingdom of Damascus here.

Since then, he has recovered most of the lost territories of the Eastern Empire, and the "Basileus" and "Vice Lord of the Empire" promised to him by Lagaia have changed from empty titles to reality.

"Your Majesty, since Damascus fell to the pagans five hundred years ago, this magnificent city will return to the hands of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Losa smiled and nodded: "It's all thanks to God's blessing."

"Your Majesty, such great achievements will surely make your name known throughout the world!"

Leopold looked very excited, completely different from his usual calm self.

Even if it only serves as a backdrop for such a great achievement, it is enough to boast about one's lifetime achievements.

Even the "Archbishop of Salzburg" in the territory, who often gave orders to him and his former feudal lord "Henry the Lion", would have to bow his head and express his respect in front of his achievements.

Seeing that Lothar just smiled and said nothing, Leopold couldn't help but sigh: "Your Majesty, you are so calm. If it were me who accomplished such a great feat, I would probably be so excited that I can't breathe now."

He suddenly thought of something, turned around and shouted, "Ludwig, let the painter come over!"

After he finished speaking, he explained somewhat embarrassedly, "Your Majesty, I want the painter to paint the scene of our conversation with Damascus as the background, and hang it in the Lord's Hall of Amhof Palace as a family heirloom."

His vanity was greatly satisfied when he thought that future vassals and guests would notice this painting at first glance when they came to see him.

Losa couldn't help laughing and said, "It's up to you."

"His Majesty!"

Scattered scouts came from all directions. They came before Lothar and reported the situation one by one.

"All the streams found in the mountains were blocked by the Saracens, or they were filled with dead bodies and poison. The surrounding towns and villages should still have hidden water sources. The Saracens did not move them all into the city."

Leopold laughed and said, "It seems that the Saracens' efforts to clear the countryside were not thorough enough."

Losa shook his head. "Damascus has hundreds of thousands of permanent residents, no less than Cairo. It's not a port city like Alexandria. They can't move all the residents outside the city into the city. That will only cause Damascus's stockpiles of supplies to be consumed faster."

Leopold was stunned for a moment: "So, Saladin is merciful?"

If it were Leopold, faced with such a crisis, he would destroy all the water sources even if it meant watching all the residents outside the city die of thirst.

Lothar chuckled and said, "Perhaps Saladin also knows that he cannot defend Damascus."

He looked at the wind and sand in front of him, and at the Saracen defenders who had hurriedly climbed up the city wall, and he seemed to see again the thin figure who had faced him for the first time.

"As expected of Saladin."

Losa smiled. Sometimes, the more unwise decisions a person makes, the more people admire him.

But he immediately stopped smiling and issued an order: "Send people to those villages and towns to collect water, and do not actively harass the civilians."

Water resources are the most important lifeline for both the attacker and the defender. Not only do people need water to drink, but livestock and war horses are also big water consumers.

When the Crusaders marched all the way to the city of Damascus, they still had some food and fodder left, but their water jars were almost all used up.

"Send more people to the mountains to cut down trees and transport them here to build camp. The soldiers are already very tired after the long journey. They need to rest for three days before attacking the city."

After giving the order, Lothar jumped lightly, turned off the horse, and went straight to the top of the hill.

He whistled.

A huge black shadow suddenly appeared from the clouds and swooped down to the ground.

The soldiers' mounts all cried out in anxiety. It was the first time that Duke Leopold had such a close encounter with the dragon Ladon. For a moment, his body and mind were completely conquered by this huge, ferocious beast.

"God is above!"

I watched Lothar leap up, land on the dragon's back, and soar into the clouds with the dragon.

Leopold heaved a sigh of relief and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

He turned around and asked, "If you don't mind the cost, can you also help me tame a dragon as a mount? It doesn't have to be as ferocious and huge as the one Lothar has. Just half of it, oh no, one third will do."

The red witch couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Taming a dragon is not an easy task.

"There are many legends about dragon slayers, but apart from this Lothar, have you ever heard of any other legends about dragon riders?"

Leopold smiled and said, "Didn't the Saracen wizard tame a dragon before? Also, the Venetians and the Greeks are said to have tamed a sea dragon."

The red-robed woman was even more speechless. “Before he was promoted to Legend, Shemaier was a famous dragon expert. And Venetians, forget it. I’ll give it a try, but don’t expect it to be as powerful as Lothar’s dragon.”

If it is a subspecies with thin dragon blood, it is not difficult to tame it for a top-notch high-level spellcaster like the red-robed woman. It's just that it is of little use, and the investment is not proportional to the return. Basically no one will do such a losing business.

"My dear, I remember that you are a master of Transfiguration, right?"

Leopold rode his mount close to the red witch and asked in a low voice.

Realizing Leopold's true thoughts, the Red Witch said unhappily, "It's impossible to become a dragon. If you really want to be in the limelight, I can turn into a python and let you ride it. But I'll make it clear, only once!"

Lothar, riding on a dragon, gradually flew to the top of Damascus.

On the city wall, those densely packed black spots scattered like a colony of frightened ants. Some hid in the towers, some hid inside the city walls, and some simply stood there in a daze as if they had lost their souls.

The residents on the streets were dodging in panic. The whole city was in chaos with cries, screams, and people running in all directions.

In the market, vendors were too busy to pack up their goods, leaving them scattered all over the ground.

Bags filled with precious spices were kicked over, saffron and cinnamon powder flew everywhere, precious cloth and porcelain were trampled under the feet of the panicked crowd. The originally bustling streets suddenly became like a disaster scene.

People rushed to get on the road, and countless people were trampled to death.

In a trance, Losa felt that he had really become the embodiment of the word "disaster".

His sight followed the dragon as it flew away and locked onto the grand palace complex in the city. The golden dome shone brightly in the sun, and exquisite mosaics decorated the walls of the palace.

"Saladin, here I come."

Roar--

Three melodious dragon roars echoed between heaven and earth.