[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations":3,"chapter-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-120":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Nation of Ten Thousand Nations",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2333088,4562,"Chapter 120: First Battle (1)","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-120",120,"\u003Cp>For Grand Master Philip of the Knights Templar, whether staying behind in Alasal or accompanying King Baldwin IV on his travels, was a light and pleasant duty—though such a thought would have been sacrilege to him just a few years ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he only wanted to smile, a smile filled with mockery and bitterness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was one of the most devout and steadfast knights, having taken his vow early: after fulfilling his duties and obligations, he would journey to the Holy Land to serve God—back then, many such men existed; though forced by family and king to marry, bear children, govern lands, or serve at court, once their heirs could take over their secular positions, they would unhesitatingly abandon their titles, wealth, lands, wives, and children, and head straight for Alasal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Philip was especially respected within the Order, not only for his character and courage, but also because he had donated his most important fortress to the Knights Templar—a fortress that Amalric I had once offered fifteen thousand gold coins to acquire, yet he refused—even though Amalric I was the Lord of the Holy Land, he preferred to entrust it to someone more devout—namely, the Grand Master at that time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ironically, shortly after he handed over that fortress to the Knights Templar—even though Amalric I had repeatedly instructed the Templar knights to hold the position firmly—it was seized by the Arabs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Templars inside that fortress had fought to the last moment, Philip might not have been so disappointed; but in truth, soon after the siege began, the knights inside surrendered to the Saracens—when Amalric I angrily hanged those twelve base cowards, some hinted that Philip should intercede, yet Philip remained silent throughout, his silence making his stance clear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps from that moment, the Knights Templar lost their final gleam in his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And when did this colossal beast finally reveal its naked flesh, writhing organs, and filthy veins? Probably on the day he was elected as the next Grand Master, when lists, ledgers, contracts, and documents were laid before him one by one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This once-poor organization, where two knights had to share a single horse, had, under the Church’s and monarchs’ indulgence, become a ravenous gold-devouring beast—he could not understand how Templar knights, forbidden to own private property, could be so greedy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By that day, the total assets of the Knights Templar could buy a kingdom; their castles spread not only across Syria, Alasal, and Egypt, but also throughout Francia and the Italian peninsula; on their own lands, they were kings and popes, with their own laws and doctrines. They collected secular head taxes and sacred tithes. They owned mills, wells, and estates; they could appoint or dismiss city officials or church clergy at will.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt profound disappointment and fear, yet after reviewing all the documents, he dared not even entertain the thought of purging this filth—it would mean angering the entire Order and the intricate, dense web of connections behind it. How many lords, nobles, and bishops were entangled within? He could not know—but he clearly saw this snowball, growing ever larger, rolling downward at an unstoppable speed, rolling, rolling, until it plunged into the abyss or hell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young king likely did not know that within the Knights Templar, Grand Master Philip was the one who supported him. Yet to preserve internal peace and unity, he never made this stance public. But truly, as a man willing to give everything to God, he naturally preferred to fight God’s enemies—the infidels or heretics—rather than wage war against Mule for worldly wealth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the latter could also be framed as securing the safety of pilgrimage routes. But this safety had always been one of the Templars’ greatest and oldest sources of funding—in the beginning, the Order’s founders established themselves solely to protect fellow pilgrims as devout and humble as themselves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before them, pilgrims could only hire unreliable mercenaries or merchants. Along the pilgrimage routes, mercenaries often robbed pilgrims bare, killed them, or abandoned them in the wilderness; merchants lured them to ports and sold them outright to infidels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the Knights Templar, such incidents gradually diminished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People trusted them, thanked them, and never withheld their money or donations—but worldly affairs always seem this way: wealth and power are a monstrous beast hard to tame, and whenever humans give in to greed, they are inevitably devoured by them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more Philip learned, the more he suffered, yet he could not bring himself to destroy the entire Knights Templar; sometimes he even had to fight against Raymond and Bohemond—for the warriors within the Order who still held pure ideals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During Amalric I’s campaign in Egypt, he had even wished to die on the battlefield against the infidels, but sadly, though wounded, he survived the battle. Even after Amalric I was assassinated, Fustat burned, and they were forced to retreat to Gaza Rafah, he still found no chance to offer himself to God.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He constantly warned himself: this was a terrifying thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suicide had always been a grave sin repeatedly condemned by the Church—it meant betrayal of God, especially self-destruction under the guise of martyrdom; though mortals might not perceive or judge it, before God no sin could be hidden—his soul would be cast into hell, unredeemed until the Day of Judgment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, when Count Raymond of Tripoli asked him to remain in Alasal, he silently accepted, feeling no great displeasure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, even then, he had not regarded the young Baldwin IV or his black-haired squire as his equal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he had heard the black-haired squire’s name—two elder Templar knights, Geoffrey and Walter, had praised him and even wished to admit him into the Order—even though the Order permitted only nobles to become knights, if the boy wished, they could always find a way to intervene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they were all refused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From Philip’s observations during this time, the bond between Baldwin IV and Cesar was clean and sincere: Baldwin IV trusted Cesar deeply and cherished him, and Cesar did not betray that kindness; what surprised Philip most was that their attitude toward each other was, in fact, equal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was strange. They both knew Cesar’s lowly origins; a kind superior might humbly treat someone he respected, but a subordinate rarely accepted such grace calmly—some were overwhelmed with awe, others grew resentful—the arrogance born of inferiority was not uncommon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he had not yet detected such emotion in Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Philip had heard of those born with innate knowledge—as if instructed by saints even before birth—and Cesar seemed such a person. At his age, he might become a good servant, a good retainer, perhaps even a good knight—but when he accompanied Baldwin IV to Bethlehem, Philip discovered Cesar could do what his peers could not—the city remained as calm and peaceful as ever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Do not underestimate this calm and peace; even Alasal had been in turmoil for months after Amalric I’s death and Baldwin’s accession—the old order shattered, everyone frantic like beans boiling in a pot, unsure what to do or what not to do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They scurried everywhere, probing and gossiping, desperate to know what lay ahead; unable to determine future events, they imagined only the worst and grew deeply anxious. And if that were all, they still committed foolish acts—drawing in more schemers, extortionists, and con artists…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During that time, the Knights Templar, the Hospitallers, and the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre were all busy; the gallows outside the city were always crowded—until Baldwin completed his anointing and coronation, and Princess Sibylla married the son of the Prince of Antioch, Abigail, did the people’s emotions gradually settle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bethlehem was only a small city, yet it housed Christians, Ishmaelites, Saracens, merchants, craftsmen, officials, and the Bishop Andrew, who had governed it on the king’s behalf; the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre there had always served under him—if the new lord of Bethlehem, the Knight of Bethlehem, could not restrain his youthful impulsiveness and committed even one reckless act, however well-intentioned, Bethlehem would be thrown into turmoil again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others might see the boy as cowardly, but only Philip, who had once been a lord himself, understood how difficult it was to pacify every faction in the city within such a short time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he could maintain this, Philip thought, the future of Alasal might not be so bleak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially when accompanying Baldwin IV on his travels, seeing the young pair treat the journey not as a hunt or amusement, but earnestly receiving local vassals, inspecting knights, and checking armories for armor, weapons, and horses—his heart stirred with hope.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked at them and saw his younger self, before harsh reality had crushed him—pure, earnest, and unjaded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What Alasal needed now might be precisely such a king and minister—even if Baldwin remained plagued by illness, what of it? If Baldwin someday had an heir, or if his sister Princess Sibylla bore a child with Abigail, this young squire would become the most powerful, devout, and trustworthy regent—as long as he did not abandon his original purpose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’ve been watching us,” Baldwin said: “Do you have something to say?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Philip could not say he saw in them his former and current self. “Don’t you find it dull?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bethlehem, though small, was as wealthy and prosperous as Alasal; but after leaving Bethlehem, the other towns and fortresses were unremarkable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially those small castles built solely for military purposes—standing on their towers or walls, one saw only endless stretches of yellow-brown sand or gray-green fields, and a clear blue sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Knights living in these castles saw only crude maids and washerwomen, few in number, mostly ugly—either emaciated or broad and heavy—worn down by hardship, indistinguishable from men, sometimes even more coarse and vile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Merchants rarely visited these castles except on fixed days, for they did not fight Saracens or others, meaning no plunder, no spoils, no ransoms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If so, even if merchants came, they could make little profit—pointless, only wasting food and water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Supplies in such castles were rationed; food and water were precious, and certainly could not support entertainers like dwarfs or musicians.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the garrisoned knights were not from the Knights Templar or Hospitallers—armed monastic orders—they could pass time with alcohol. But for these religious orders, beyond prayer and training, knights had few other diversions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Traveling between these fortresses was arduous: dust-filled air, dryness, scorching days and freezing nights, frequent disorientation, thirst, disease—let alone Baldwin IV being a sick man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Philip had prepared for Baldwin to collapse suddenly, forcing them to turn back to Alasal immediately—but the worst scenario never came; they reached here, the Castle of Ma Kabu in Banils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This castle had not originally belonged to the Crusaders; it was built by local Saracens, later seized and expanded by the Crusaders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It occupied a critical strategic position, atop the Sea of Galilee, facing Damascus to the north, overlooking the Dead Sea and the Jordan Valley; on clear days, one could even see Alasal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Reassuringly, the Templars here had not neglected their duty like the twelve hanged fools; though conditions were harsh, there were no major oversights—minor, harmless flaws could be ignored.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How could it be?” Baldwin said. “I see these… Grand Master, everything here has meaning.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Cesar had been caring for him, objective conditions here still left the young king with chapped lips and rough cheeks, especially the red patches reappearing prominently—but his eyes were bright, full of life, and his voice carried unfeigned excitement and pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, Grand Master Philip could not help feeling genuine joy—but he remembered his duty and reminded him: “Then tomorrow, we must return.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Castle of Ma Kabu in Banils was the northernmost point of Alasal’s frontier; beyond lay Saracen territory. Besides, they had been away for three full weeks—no matter the reason, they were ready to turn back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re right,” Baldwin said, a trace of regret in his voice, yet he knew they must return to the Holy Cross Castle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the Patriarch Heraclius remained in the Holy City, not every man could be held in check by him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who is that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar, walking over, suddenly asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Castle of Ma Kabu was small, with only one wall; they stood on an arrow tower beside the gate, peering through the battlements, seeing a lightly armed knight galloping toward them. Philip squinted and saw his panicked expression, crooked cloak, bloodstains—his face darkened instantly!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could shout a question, the knight cried out: “Enemy attack!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2074,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e095f8baf90533f58fc3db5e2df078b923357651fda198a5c09e451bedbb0301","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-121","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-119",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]