[{"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-162":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},2333130,4562,"Chapter 162: Lancinus","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-162",162,"\u003Cp>“After they return, they will surely spread the word that you got ten thousand gold coins from them for nothing.” Kamal said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It seems they know they’re worth nothing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin’s words made Kamal burst into laughter, then he walked to the chest and began rummaging through the coins, soon letting out a dismissive chuckle: “No wonder they only claimed ten thousand gold coins.” He clenched a handful in his palm—the coins were either from Tripoli or Antioch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Alasal and surrounding regions, even in Syria and Egypt, people preferred to use Roman gold coins. These Roman coins did not refer to the long-dead Western Roman Empire, but to those minted by the Byzantine Eastern Roman Empire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their coins, by current weight standards, weighed about four grams each, with gold purity around eighty-five percent—and most reassuringly, this figure had barely changed in decades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the right to mint coins had always been scattered among each king and lord; after the Crusaders arrived in Alasal, they too began minting their own coins, and the Saracen sultans and caliphs likewise had their own craftsmen and mints.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, the gold coins circulating in the market were often of wildly varying quality—the smallest might weigh less than one gram, while the largest were only eight or nine grams, with differing purity and bewilderingly complex names—this was why the Ishmaelites could turn currency exchange into such a thriving business.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these cunning Ishmaelites had brought nothing but the smallest, least valuable Antioch coins—the very ones minted by Bohemond after he returned to Antioch. At that time, Antioch had been laid waste by his mother and stepfather; his mother was even raising funds to ransom her stepson—though this effort was ultimately stopped by Antioch’s knights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Antioch simply had no more gold to spare, and Bohemond was desperate to assert his legitimacy, so upon his accession he minted as many gold coins bearing his portrait as he could.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were the smallest and thinnest coins Kamal had ever seen—so thin the portrait was nearly indistinct. He played with them in his hand, then contemptuously tossed them back into the chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though called ten thousand gold coins, their actual value was only a quarter or a fifth of that claim, and many were clipped or worn coins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ishmaelites often did this: they shaved off part of a coin, then still passed it off at its full value, keeping the shavings to recast, polish, and turn into their own wealth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the puzzling thing about the Ishmaelites: if they were already risking everything, why not go further?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did they think shouting “ten thousand gold coins” would dazzle a man like Saladin into letting them pass without inspection?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if Saladin were a greedy man, he’d fly into a rage upon discovering the goods were fake and make them pay dearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet they still wanted to play their little tricks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes, the Ishmaelites were like this—they saw themselves as the only wise people on earth, and everyone else as fools. Saladin wasn’t angry. Why quarrel with a pack of rootless dogs? He kept them around to observe Cesar’s methods—he hadn’t yet seen the boy’s true bearing as a ruler.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Would he tolerate these Ishmaelites, strictly regulate them, or even hang them?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar was wise and merciful, but so far Saladin had never seen a lord who could run a city entirely without Ishmaelites, relying only on himself and his own people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, the Ishmaelites had survived this long for their own kind of “wisdom”—though they exploited, expelled, or worse, even brutalized useless “infidels” and even their own kind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet on the surface, they always posed as tolerant: anyone who followed the Ishmaelite faith was an Ishmaelite; anyone born to an Ishmaelite woman was an Ishmaelite; even a man who married an Ishmaelite woman became an Ishmaelite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And once one became an Ishmaelite, one was bound to help every other Ishmaelite and receive help from every Ishmaelite—this slogan sounded beautiful to outsiders, especially poor, helpless refugees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus they gathered many followers around them, so even though they were despised, scorned, and “persecuted,” they always quietly reappeared in every corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A city might have no Ishmaelites, but another city would surely have some.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And when Ishmaelites arrived somewhere, they always sought out other Ishmaelites, not first approaching Christians or Saracens—and their trades were precisely the ones Christians and Saracens refused to handle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every city had its poor; even those who didn’t need loans still needed currency exchange. Without Ishmaelites, who would lend them money or change their coins?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, Ishmaelites were well-informed—like these men from Bethlehem, whose sources were obviously their kin in Damascus—they must have been watching the war outside the city and scheming to learn the identities of the prisoners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon hearing one Christian knight was the lord of Bethlehem, they immediately sent word to the Ishmaelites in Bethlehem—they knew nothing of Saladin’s ties to Cesar, only that they’d found a profitable opportunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Saladin had entered Damascus, at Kamal’s urging, he remained an observer, still without plans to seize the city—if he did, neighboring Fatimids would surely rise against him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he didn’t want to sink now into the quagmire of Syria, he’d have to leave eventually.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before leaving, he glanced at the chest of coins: “Bring out the Ishmaelites who traded in rumors, and hang them outside the city wall.” He ordered. Kamal accepted the command.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Given the former vizier’s capabilities, those Ishmaelites would never see tomorrow’s daylight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Le Gao and the other Ishmaelites were expelled from Damascus, they lost their mules, their ten thousand gold coins, their fine silk robes, rings, belts, necklaces… even their shoes—all items the soldiers deemed valuable were stripped from them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They walked the road in only thin linen robes, pitiful and broken, yet Saladin’s soldiers had left their small caps on—they’d lost even the chance to disguise themselves as Christians. Christians and Saracens passing by recoiled from them at once, as if they carried plague or excrement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Le Gao was about to loudly denounce Saladin’s greed and cruelty, but when he looked up, he saw the dozen corpses hanging from the wall. Even from afar, he felt their pale eyes glaring at him with hatred—he recognized every face: Ishmaelite merchants and elders of the city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Out of loyalty to their kin, as soon as they learned the Christian knight Cesar had become Saladin’s prisoner, they sent word urging him to hurry to Damascus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin’s guess was right: any other lord, even if his people gave all their money, food, and lives for him, wouldn’t feel a shred of guilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But everyone could see what kind of man Cesar was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he was still a lowly servant with no future, he gave away a fortune even a count would envy to every poor person in Alasal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had stubbornly stayed by the side of a leper because he remembered the kindness of Amalric I and Baldwin IV—and to repay that debt, he’d turned down countless opportunities others would have killed for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ironically, once his origins were revealed, people changed their tune: no longer did they say a king shouldn’t have a servant of unknown, slave-born origin; instead, they claimed the sole heir of the Count of Edessa shouldn’t remain beside a leper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was still slander, yet many still agreed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many of them were children who had once surrounded Baldwin IV and their parents—now knights and “the chosen,” yet betraying their master, even if explainable—like how the Church deemed lepers “punished by God”—left an indelible, vivid stain on their records.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar's existence was like a blank sheet of paper highlighting that stain, making it appear even worse—but if Cesar left Baldwin IV, their sins would no longer be constantly remembered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Would Cesar leave? No—he wouldn’t. Their vile acts were merely desperate struggles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After meeting the little saint a few times, Le Gao realized his fame wasn’t manufactured—he truly was good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought quickly and didn’t expect rewards like Amalric I’s. Though they’d been rewarded for past deeds (Nur ad-Din), he still felt his family’s influence in Bethlehem was too weak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Le Gao even planned to marry his daughter, niece, or cousin to the knight of Bethlehem—like Jacques did—even if Cesar hadn’t publicly renounced his faith, to the Ishmaelites he was already one of them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Think further: Cesar’s blood ties to the king of Alasal—perhaps one day they’d have an Ishmaelite king.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now his ambition was shattered. The Ishmaelites swallowed their curses and condemnation and walked on. Fortunately, Syria was no longer so cold; he limped painfully forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His soles, long pampered, were no longer thick or numb—every grain of sand, every stone sent searing pain through him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then a group of riders galloped toward them. His companions immediately dragged him to the roadside and prostrated themselves. Their attire made it clear they were expelled Ishmaelites—who knew if disturbing a knight might earn them a whip?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had no money now; they couldn’t afford the pain and fever such a lash might bring.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, the Christian knights were preoccupied. They didn’t even notice the group of Ishmaelites kneeling by the road; they rode straight to the gate, presented their credentials and pass, and were swiftly led before Saladin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This time, it was truly the Alasal delegation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The delegation’s leader is just a knight,” Kamal murmured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin allowed him to stay by his side; these days, they’d been together constantly, with occasional friction—this was the necessary trial of their new master-servant bond.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, Saladin wasn’t harsh, and Kamal was pragmatic; they grew familiar far faster than either expected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kamal thought Saladin a frank and just ruler (the former rarer than the latter), while Saladin saw Kamal as an empathetic minister—though Kamal still joked he was merely a prisoner, his power in Damascus had already subtly surpassed his puppet friend’s.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The leader of the Alasal delegation was nothing but a knight—dark-skinned, thin, tall, with no lands or surname. Kamal was momentarily stunned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Given King Baldwin IV’s high regard for Cesar, even if he didn’t come himself, he should have sent a duke or a count.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lancinus?” Saladin asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lancinus, upon seeing this Saracen, also showed surprise—he remembered Saladin well. Though no names were exchanged, this man had saved his life; otherwise, he’d have died at the hands of other “chosen” Christian knights right after being “chosen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he never imagined that the vile traitor—abandoned his lord and faith (referring to his shift from Nur ad-Din’s general to Caliph Atid’s grand vizier)—whom Christians had cursed endlessly, was the same Saracen who had slain a criminal under moonlight and rescued him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Cesar already knew Saladin was the one who saved Lancinus outside the cathedral, after thought, he withheld the truth—for he didn’t know how Lancinus would react, and as his closest attendant, Lancinus, who refused to reclaim his name, had weak roots; many would try to pry open a crack through him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And ultimately, this was still between him and Saladin. Though given Lancinus’s actions, Saladin would have saved him anyway, Saladin’s identity was too sensitive—it was hard to say whether someone wouldn’t exploit this to stir up trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What pulled Lancinus from his shock was a guard’s low rebuke. He knelt, his heart churning, unable to calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He heard the voice above, amused and casual, speaking of his identity: “This is Lancinus,” Saladin told Kamal. “He followed Cesar when Cesar was still a lowly servant. Back then, people called him ‘the slave’s slave,’ but he didn’t care—he’s sharp-eyed and clear-headed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin praised, “And resolute—he won’t be swayed by gossip. Now I understand why King Baldwin IV of Alasal sent him. His ministers probably don’t want Cesar returning to Alasal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin’s familiarity made Lancinus shudder with dread, yet also filled him with disbelief and elation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he departed under the king’s orders, others had said this was merely a Saracen trap. How could Saracens be so kind to Christians? Even if he once treated the dead Sultan Nur ad-Din well, weren’t there Christian knights who treated Saracen prisoners kindly too?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They treated a living man, not a corpse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, Christians viewed Saracens far more harshly and narrowly than Saracens viewed Christians. Even though they prized last rites, they couldn’t believe a Saracen would repay a good deed by Cesar with such generosity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially since Saladin wasn’t Nur ad-Din’s son—he’d betrayed Nur ad-Din long before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This talk spread wildly. Baldwin IV knew their intent: part jealousy, but mostly fear he’d risk himself to go to Damascus for Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People had once worried about his accession, but that worry vanished after the great victory at the Sea of Galilee.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They hoped he’d become another Amalric I or Saint George, bringing them more hope and victory in the years ahead—as said before, a short lifespan wasn’t a great flaw for a king; wasn’t there still over a decade?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if he risked himself for Cesar, and the Saracen shamelessly held him captive? Wouldn’t they have to pay ransom? Or worse—if he were killed by the Saracens? That would be a crushing blow to the Crusaders and all Christian realms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they knew how stubborn and proud this young king was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had it not been for Queen Mother Maria’s persuasion, Patriarch Heraclius’s subtle counsel, and Count Joscelin III of Edessa still alive—he might already have given Cesar a key post, like that of grand chamberlain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That position should be held by royal blood or close confidants. But the problem was: a sixteen-year-old king was astonishing enough—did they need a sixteen-year-old grand chamberlain too?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was too much for ministers nearing fifty to accept—led by Raymond, Count of Tripoli, and Bohemond, Prince of Antioch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon hearing Cesar was captured, they’d prepared to accept the mission even if the king ordered them to go—but they never expected that after one night’s thought, the king of Alasal didn’t plan to go to Damascus himself (which relieved many), nor send any major noble as delegation leader—he appointed Lancinus, the knight managing Bethlehem for the knight of Bethlehem, to lead a group of knights to Damascus immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the immense authority the king granted him—essentially letting him act in the king’s stead—it was merely a detail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The elders had no reason to refuse, and could only watch helplessly as the anxious Lancinus accepted the king’s authority, seal, and documents without hesitation, then departed with his knights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before entering the hall and seeing this man, Lancinus had feared this might truly be a trap. He wasn’t afraid of death—but he feared that if the Saracens realized their scheme had failed, they’d vent their rage on his master.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He carried nearly three hundred thousand gold coins in promissory notes, plus King Baldwin IV’s promises. Don’t forget: though Nur ad-Din’s body had been returned, several emirs and Fatimids captured at the Sea of Galilee still languished in Alasal’s castle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They waited there for their kin or lords to ransom them—but Apamea was now in chaos, no one cared. Yet if they could be exchanged for Cesar, Baldwin wouldn’t hesitate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the atmosphere in the hall wasn’t tense or sinister as Lancinus imagined—especially facing Saladin, this Saracen—who, before knowing his identity, had once killed a dangerous enemy for him after he saved a Saracen girl and pulled him from a dry well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only now did Lancinus understand why Cesar had remained silent after he told that story.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This man had known Cesar all along—and from his tone and manner, they had some history, especially how he spoke of Cesar as if he were a beloved younger relative.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stood frozen, grateful Saladin had allowed only him to enter alone—he had no other Christian knights with him. Though loyal to the king, not all of them would vouch for Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they learned this, they might spread rumors upon returning, turning it into a weapon against Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What you fear won’t happen,” Saladin said calmly, watching Lancinus’s eyes, filled with anxiety and uncertainty. He smiled. “You may go see your master now. He woke once, then slept again, then woke two or three more times—the waking periods are slowly lengthening, but he still seems weak.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Go speak to him. He may not recover quickly enough to return to Alasal with you, but at least you’ll find some peace—and he needs someone familiar to care for him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lancinus, hearing this, was deeply grateful. He didn’t present the items Baldwin IV had given him. This Saracen possessed the same noble qualities as his master—words from his mouth carried little falsehood, and wouldn’t be easily forgotten or discarded later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could trust him. So he bowed deeply to Saladin with profound gratitude, then left the room, where servants naturally led him to Cesar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You know him—or do you know every person around Cesar?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rarely, Kamal glanced sideways at his future ruler. Though he knew he shouldn’t say it, in his view, Saladin’s behavior was… somehow sly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin cheerfully stretched his back. He did remember Lancinus—after all, Lancinus’s face stood out vividly among the knights, unforgettable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But what ultimately left an impression on him was the servant’s earlier act of kindness outside the church in Gaza Lafa—perhaps due to Cesar’s teachings, or simply through osmosis. The knight’s actions truly surprised him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kamal listened to Saladin’s account and nodded repeatedly. They acknowledged that among the Crusaders, there might be worthy men, but most were still despicable scoundrels who bullied the weak and betrayed trust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that time, Longinus was merely a wandering knight; his master was still an ordinary servant, not even yet a knight, let alone aware that he had already been chosen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under such despair and humiliation, he still mustered the courage to save a Saracen girl and face down three chosen knights—this courage truly deserved praise; even as a Christian, he could claim a place in the Sultan’s court.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lions do not follow hyenas, swans do not fly alongside vultures,” Kamal said sincerely, yet he sighed afterward, for he now understood why Saladin had returned Cesar to Arasalu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he took Cesar away now, whether in Egypt or Aleppo, Cesar would never truly submit—he might even harbor resentment and hatred. Plundering and taking in are two entirely different things.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And this child, born with such purity, was destined to perish in that corrupt world. “Saladin, what if he perishes amid those schemes and treacheries?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saladin looked at Kamal, still smiling, but the cold light in his eyes spoke volumes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",3075,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","f3ece864d45b78427797fbf3102f1870e44774ff5ffc95c3625d8ebd06b30561","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-163","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-161",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]