[{"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-132":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},2333100,4562,"Chapter 132: Outbound Mission","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-132",132,"\u003Cp>According to customary law and ecclesiastical law, a newborn’s birth certificate should be issued in duplicate: one copy held by the child’s parents, the other preserved by the most reputable church or monastery in the locality. When inheritance rights or any matter requiring proof of lineage and surname arises, these two documents are produced as the most authoritative evidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when Joscelin IV—Cesar—and his sister were born, the circumstances were truly strange and extraordinary. They were born inside an enemy’s castle, delivered, baptized, and signed for by a group of prisoners; to then demand they find a church or monastery to preserve a second copy would be unreasonable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, alongside the birth certificate, twenty thousand gold coins in wealth were also produced; this single “proof” alone was sufficient to convince people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Budebushuo , this question was indeed cunning and vicious—it struck precisely the weakest link in the entire matter: that these two children had indeed existed, but nearly everyone who could prove the two young men standing here were those same children were now dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if they had not died, such as Joscelin III and his wife—but these two children were sent away at the age of three or four; now grown, without blood typing or DNA testing, how could Joscelin III possibly confirm their identities? The certificate did not mention any birthmarks or moles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Although Cesar’s clean, bright green eyes were indeed rare, it could not be said that no second pair existed in the world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What if the loyal servants failed to carry out their master’s orders? Perhaps they did not neglect or slack off, but infant mortality was common in this era—from kings to peasants, all had watched their children lose their breath—perhaps they feared punishment after grief, or harbored other thoughts—who knew whether Joscelin III could escape the Saracen castle, or whether he and the Armenian princess would ever have another child?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They might have adopted or bought two children to impersonate Joscelin III’s true bloodline; after all, in Aleppo, the number of slaves offered by merchants exceeded that of cattle and horses. Nattia’s light brown eyes were common, Cesar’s green eyes rare—but if sufficient gold were offered, one could surely obtain them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Baldwin IV coldly glanced at the official who raised the objection—he was a scribe under Raymond’s command, deeply trusted by the lord. But his words would surely be remembered by the king—or rather, Baldwin remembered not the official, but his master Raymond; how could a mere official dare speak so freely?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I recall Joscelin II…” Bohemond whispered—no one present could possibly have known Joscelin III, for he had been a Saracen captive since age five. And with the complete fall of Edessa (Joscelin II died as a prisoner in a Seljuk castle in 59), even less concern was paid to Joscelin III.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Joscelin II was a rugged, burly knight of typical appearance; his wife, the Armenian princess, was no beauty; their son should have been merely an ordinary man. And if the Armenian princess who became Joscelin III’s wife had been truly beautiful, Nuradin would never have dismissed her from his harem to wed her to a prisoner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And their two children…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Nattia could still be called lovely, Cesar’s appearance had surpassed most people’s imagination of beauty. As he grew older, he no longer resembled the androgynous child of his youth; he became more like a drawn blade—before even drawing near, one felt a chilling presence, yet could not help being drawn closer, even if it meant being cut.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though polite to others, he carried an inexplicable, innate coldness that made his inhuman aura strikingly clear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could such a child truly be the son of Joscelin III and an Armenian woman?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Faced with this difficult-to-defend question, Nattia showed no panic or anger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Cut this certificate open,” she said. “The proof is inside.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such important documents were often written on precious calf skin parchment. This leather was peeled from calves that had never seen daylight, capable of being polished extremely thin yet remaining tough and resistant to tearing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So when Nattia said this, Patriarch Heraclius’s first reaction was to pinch the parchment and found it indeed thicker than ordinary calf skin. But at the time, he assumed it was merely due to prolonged storage or accumulated dust in long darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, looking again, he noticed the problem—the grain and fiber direction on the front and back of the birth certificate were inconsistent. He stepped back a few paces, held it up to the blazing sunlight, and indeed saw a faint, circular trace encircling the parchment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was something else sealed inside?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this thickness had deceived everyone here; had Nattia not reminded them—“But then, this certificate will be destroyed”—the other copy was in the hands of the Archbishop of Edessa. Yet he had long since died in a Saracen prison, merely saying he had safely preserved it, without revealing its location to anyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now it had become an unsolvable secret. Unless one day the Crusaders captured Aleppo, at which point they could dismantle the entire prison brick by brick to search.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they possessed only this one document to prove Nattia and Cesar’s identities. Patriarch Heraclius considered, then decided to handle it himself—he had walked the earth for decades as a cleric, and among the skills clerics mastered best was parchment-making.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The parchment here was not made from plant fibers, but from sheepskin and calf skin; every cleric had endured the arduous labor of stripping hides, scraping off fat, stretching them taut, drying them, coating them with chalk, and endlessly polishing them until they became thin and smooth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The patriarch ordered his disciple to bring a specially sharpened knife, its blade a thin sliver of obsidian; such blades had short lifespans, either breaking or shattering. Yet at this time, iron tool craftsmanship had not yet reached the standard nature had forged; to cleanly separate these two nearly seamless sheets of calf skin, an iron knife was inadequate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under everyone’s gaze, Heraclius spent time peeling apart the two sheets of calf skin—patient, meticulous. This birth certificate directly affected the inheritance of vast wealth and noble titles. Though the lands were now nonexistent, if Cesar truly became Joscelin IV, he could one day use this certificate to seek aid from his lord and peers—for funds, men, or supplies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, the Crusaders were a minority on this land; the states they built must unite, watch each other’s backs, to survive the ceaseless, wave-like assaults of the infidels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When opened, people saw on the reverse side of the certificate, printed in tiny ink, a pair of handprints and a pair of footprints.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What is this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“These are my and Cesar’s hand and footprints,” Nattia said nostalgically. “At our birth, my father used the most fade-resistant dye mixed with ointment to imprint our hands and feet upon it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t understand what use this is?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Archbishop of Edessa once made a chance discovery—he found it fascinating, proof of God’s omnipotence and omniscience. For this reason, he conducted extensive research involving hundreds of people: merchants, craftsmen, and mostly ordinary peasants or servants.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In his research,” Nattia said, “he discovered that every person’s palm and sole patterns were unique. Whether noble or beggar, after confirming this, he tested many people for years—these patterns existed from birth, deepened with age, faded with old age, but grew proportionally without changing shape, width, or number of lines.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet before he could proclaim this discovery—he believed it a miracle granted by God, so angels and saints might better discern mortal bodies—Edessa fell. He was captured and imprisoned in a Saracen castle. Before our father Joscelin III had thought to send us away, he sensed the danger and urged our father to imprint our hand and footprints on our birth certificates.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She looked at Cesar: “Brother, fetch a blank sheepskin parchment and imprint your hand and footprints. I will do the same, then let them compare—they will find them identical.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hand and footprints on the reverse of the birth certificate were remarkably clear. The patterns were etched as if carved, each line distinct; they had used something that, even today, had only dimmed slightly without blurring or distorting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sheepskin parchment was quickly brought. Cesar and Nattia cleaned their hands and feet. Maidservants, as if playing a game, smeared their palms and soles with bright red rouge, then gently pressed them onto the parchment, leaving their current prints.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before they dried, people rushed to compare them. Even if unrelated to land inheritance, this discovery was astonishing; after comparison, it was as Nattia said—the patterns, ignoring size, were identical in shape, spacing, and breaks. Thus, Nattia and Cesar’s identities required no further proof—they were indeed the children of Count Joscelin III of Edessa.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon after, news arrived from Aleppo—the envoy, previously forced into this inheritance case, had originally been able to stand aside and watch coldly; Count Joscelin III belonged to Nuradin, and whoever received him in the future would not be a Christian.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What is gained by war must be reclaimed by war—but Cesar’s kindness had touched the softest part of his hardened heart. He immediately dispatched a messenger back to Aleppo, and news soon came: since Cesar had once served their father, Sultan Nuradin, they were willing to pardon his father, allowing father and son to reunite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This made the following negotiations softer and swifter. Aleppo first proposed releasing Count Joscelin III and his wife—without ransom. King Arslan immediately reciprocated: the Saracens could reclaim Sultan Nuradin’s body, also without ransom, and would face no interference on their journey home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This matter could be called a triumph for all. Even the Saracens marveled—perhaps this was fate. It made them more resigned to Nuradin’s crushing defeat and death by the Sea of Galilee; perhaps, as the Christian knight had said, he had merely fulfilled his earthly duty and now returned to heaven.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>————\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I have something I want you to do,” Heraclius said. “It’s dangerous, not entirely honorable—but the timing is perfect, and the justification sufficient…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar lowered his head, thought a moment: “You want me to go to Aleppo?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heraclius smiled approvingly: “Yes. Sultan Nuradin is dead, and he has three sons—one adult, the other two not yet. But I have no doubt they will immediately declare themselves Nuradin’s heirs—no,” he shook his head, both regretful and awed, “more than that—I hear Saladin of Egypt, the Viceroy of Damascus, and the Sultan of Mosul—his nephew, a puppet—all vie for the mantle of this Light of Faith… What do you think will happen next?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Civil war.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Saracen civil war has always been a good opportunity for us. But how we act depends critically on judging them—who is weakest, who most impulsive, who most ambitious, who most profit-driven? Child, these traits cannot be known without seeing them firsthand. But compared to the Holy Cross Fortress, the Saracen court holds even more conspiracies—let alone, they recognize only masters and slaves… even envoys struggle to return unharmed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You mean…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This kindness may have been merely your whim, born of pity for an old man—but it unexpectedly bore rich fruit. No matter what, Nuradin’s ‘heirs’ would never harm someone who once performed the ‘purification rite’ for him; they may even come to thank you personally. As long as you are in Syria, you can quietly observe them… I believe you will see more than others.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am willing, Master.” He and Heraclius spoke in unison: “Baldwin!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1913,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ef9dde5774541c3c32db42cc41678c2f9df9d79be16a70075952d2cd9df8629e","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-133","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-131",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]