Chapter 72

Longinus heard someone shouting "despicable."

Of course, a sneak attack was indeed a despicable act, not to mention a sneak attack on the most important position of that man.

What else could he do? He had been fasting for several days before, and was forced to sleep on the stone floor of the cathedral for a night. When he woke up, he was hungry, thirsty, and had only hurriedly drunk a few mouthfuls of water before.

And he was only wearing leather armor—Cesar had picked out a complete set of chainmail for him from his spoils, but he cherished it and didn't wear it, and now he regretted it too late.

He now had to face three knights who were not only wearing chainmail but also had steel plates fixed in important positions, and they were fully armed. He only had a short sword and a dagger.

And to him, that guy who threw a silver coin as a great reward, in order to make it convenient for doing things later, lifted the chainmail that reached his knees, tucked it into his belt, revealing a large piece of white thigh and the "short horn" barely covered by the linen long undershirt, and even forgot to put it down when raising his longsword. Wasn't this clearly tempting him to commit a crime?

—Just as they would inevitably say, their crime was also because this Saracen girl tempted them.

Longinus was always compliant. And he had been fighting with those low-class thieves for a long time, and didn't care about face at all.

Taking advantage of bending down to pick up the silver coin, he did a forward roll, rolled between the legs of that knight lord, and took the opportunity to draw his dagger and give him a jab.

That shameless and stingy bastard let out a long howl, just like an injured mule, shouting with his throat desperately. Longinus, who had gotten behind him, immediately jumped up and stabbed into the back of his neck.

That cleric seemed to have been on the battlefield too. Although he let out a scream, he actually remembered to lift the Saracen girl and use her as a shield in front of him. He grabbed her hair tightly and pulled it down with all his might. A look of pain appeared on the girl's face.

She shouted something loudly. Unfortunately, no one present could understand it. She also quickly realized this and struggled even more vigorously, kicking with her feet and grabbing with her hands, not caring about her own safety at all.

But no matter what she did, she couldn't do anything to the guy behind her. She was like this when she was grabbed. The disparity in physical constitution between men and women, coupled with the crushing of age (she might only be thirteen or fourteen), and the heaven-and-earth difference between the linen long robe and chainmail, destined her to be a weak prey rather than a hunter.

But the turning point came instantly. Perhaps worried that using this girl as a shield alone wouldn't scare Longinus, the cleric drew his small dagger and placed it across the girl's throat, wanting to use this to deter him.

He didn't see a flash of joy suddenly burst out in the girl's eyes. She almost impatiently slammed into the cold, gleaming blade. Longinus could even hear the sound of skin, blood vessels, and thin muscles tearing under the cold metal.

This cut was so deep, so large, that even if someone had deliberately hacked it, it might not have been as tragic as it was now.

The girl's head tilted back, blood sprayed, and the cleric suddenly found the body in his hand becoming heavy, tilting to one side. The hair he held in his hand also became hot, wet, and greasy, and he realized he had lost his biggest bargaining chip.

Longinus didn't hesitate. He gripped his short sword tightly, stabbed into the girl's chest, pierced her body, and then penetrated the cleric's stinking skin, connecting this most beautiful body with this most ugly body.

His eyes were red, and he pulled out his longsword while panting, then couldn't help but curse.

Because he saw the third knight had stood up from the ground, with light floating around his body—he was a knight who had received a blessing.

"Don't the saints in heaven have eyes?" Longinus let out a sigh exactly the same as Cesar's once, and went up with his sword.

After only one collision, the experienced wandering knight knew it was bad.

He couldn't fight this knight who was full of brute force and energy at all.

Longinus felt a burst of weakness.

He knew this was a symptom of fear, but he had to cheer up—he could imagine that if he died here, what this only surviving knight would say.

He would only say that he and his companions heard a Saracen woman scream on the road. And when he rushed over, he found a wandering knight preparing to rape her. He and his companions sternly stopped him, but were met with insults and attacks from the villain, so they could only fight back and kill him.

Everyone knew he was Cesar's squire. Once this happened, not only would he die unjustly and inexplicably, but Cesar's reputation would also be affected—it was not easy for him to gain a foothold beside Prince Baldwin, and Longinus didn't intend to add more trouble to him.

He thought about at least dying with this knight, but it was too difficult to do so. He could only constantly circle with this knight. The opponent's double-edged sword was as heavy as a long hammer with blades on both sides. If it hit any part of him, it could instantly tear open his fragile leather armor, along with the muscles and bones inside.

And his short sword and dagger could barely parry, unable to pose any fatal threat to a person covered in chainmail. He could only struggle in this small space, while dodging the opponent's increasingly fierce attacks, while racking his brains to find his weaknesses.

Longinus wanted to leave this overly cramped space several times—some people would mistakenly think that a narrow space was more favorable to someone holding a short weapon. In fact, if the other party was fully armored, it was no different from an unarmed person fighting a giant bear—the knight also noticed this and intercepted him accurately every time.

Longinus was panting, his legs becoming heavier and heavier.

The knight seemed to see this too. He showed a ferocious smile in the shadows and swung his longsword from top to bottom. He could almost see this arrogant kid falling to the ground after a wail, blood gushing out, skin and flesh tearing, and bones breaking.

He did hear the sound of something breaking, but it wasn't Longinus's neck or shoulder. At the critical moment of life and death, the wandering knight made a decision that was hard to imagine—he placed his short sword horizontally on his shoulder, at the position about to be hit by the double-edged sword.

This suicidal approach actually found a way out for him from a desperate situation. The double-edged sword, carrying the breath of death, struck the short sword directly. The short sword broke, and the jumping blade scraped away a large piece of skin and flesh on his neck. Blood flowed, but it didn't hurt any vital parts.

Longinus's left shoulder collapsed instantly, but at this moment, the dagger in his right hand had stabbed toward the knight's thigh.

But it was a pity, just as he had expected, the chainmail well guarded against the dagger's stab. Those layers of small iron rings only made the knight feel a burst of pain, but no blood flowed. He snorted angrily and thrust his double-edged sword at the gap beside him.

His judgment was very correct, but Longinus had already taken this opportunity to roll out of his side in a sorry state and rush toward the door.

For a moment, many thoughts flashed through his mind, and he found none of them useful. He was now full of regret, very regretful. He should have been praying honestly and earnestly in the Church of St. John the Baptist, instead of sleeping there.

If he could have looked to a saint, perhaps he wouldn't be so passive now.

He even thought about whether he should jump directly into the well? Although suicide was a sin that couldn't be eliminated, he immediately dismissed this idea. If he committed suicide, the knight would only say he was a coward, a timid person, a sinner, and people would be even less likely to believe Cesar's words.

No, wait, he could also hide in the well.

Even if the knight cut the rope, he could float in it for a while. Now he was thin, and the advantage of wearing leather armor came—a big guy couldn't drill down the narrow well mouth, but it was also possible that the knight would use stones to smash him.

But Longinus couldn't care about that much anymore. He ignored the pain, ran toward the octagonal stone well, and quickly grabbed the rope and jumped down.

The knight also saw it and guessed why he did this. He roared and rushed toward the stone well, but at this moment, only ripples were seen in the well. The damn guy was holding the rope, looking up at him. He did cut the rope. But what was the use of that?

Staring at Longinus with that creepy gaze for a while, the knight raised his double-edged sword. Throwing the sword down might kill him, but the knight didn't want to lose his handiest weapon before the war, so he shook his head and turned to search for stones and bricks in the ruins.

Longinus waited in fear. He struggled to take off the wet leather armor from his body and put it on his head, only hoping not to be bloody so quickly.

He waited for a long time. The knight's footsteps seemed to always linger around. Was it that hard to find a stone? Longinus muttered.

But then he became overjoyed because he heard the other party's terrified screams. He was shouting—Saracens.

And then he heard a steady voice saying: "Yes, a Saracen."

They started fighting, and the sound of swords clashing was endless. Longinus was both worried and disappointed. If a righteous knight had come, he might have survived by luck.

But since a Saracen had come, he wouldn't save a Christian. The only thing worth comforting was that if this Saracen killed this knight and also killed him, or abandoned him, letting him drown because of exhaustion.

When people found him, they would only think he was killed by a Saracen. His death wouldn't implicate his little master.

Longinus listened nervously, but in the well, he could only hear chaotic and small sounds. Judging from those exceptionally loud shouts from the knight, this Saracen was not an easy opponent and was steady enough.

Except for declaring his identity as a Saracen, he almost didn't say a word, just attacking blindly.

The jab Longinus made on the knight's thigh, although it didn't cause a fatal injury, made him suffer some obstacles in his actions. Those dragging footsteps were made by him. The Saracen should have discovered this too and made good use of it.

The knight retreated to the stone well. He might have thought he could rely on this solid barrier to counterattack or stalemate, but it seemed useless, only letting Longinus hear more clearly. He heard the knight begging, heard the knight say: Let me pray, let me pray, don't let me go to hell.

But that Saracen just said, did you let the Saracens pray?

Then it was the sound of swords piercing skin and flesh and humans making their last sigh, which Longinus was exceptionally familiar with. He hoped this Saracen wouldn't discover him, but things went against his wishes.

A moment later, heavy footsteps approached, and a head appeared at the well mouth.

Longinus suddenly remembered that he had also stretched his head out from the well mouth like this, deliberately scaring his little master and Prince Baldwin. So this was really retribution.

He couldn't see the Saracen's face and expression, and the other party just looked at him and turned to leave—he could only wait for the final verdict.

When this Saracen appeared at the well mouth for the second time, he thought he was definitely going to die this time. Unexpectedly, the other party just threw out a sturdy rope, "Can you still hold the rope?"

Longinus, of course, couldn't hold it, but he could wrap the rope around his waist, and then he pulled the rope, signaling that the other party could pull him up.

That Saracen really pulled him up. Longinus climbed out of the well mouth with one hand, fell to the ground, and lay down, stretching his limbs and panting desperately.

Fortunately, it was September, and the wind still carried the heat of the daytime, so he wouldn't be shivering.

That Saracen took a leather bag from his waist, unscrewed the mouth, and placed it by his mouth. He smelled the sweet fragrance of honey and immediately leaned over and drank a few mouthfuls desperately.

Afterward, the Saracen actually dragged him up and let him lean against the well wall, "I saw the girl's body," he said: "Tell me what happened here?"

Don't you already know seven or eight out of ten? Longinus muttered in his heart, but he didn't dare to disobey this person's meaning, besides the fact that this person could save him or kill him, also because this person looked like a superior, and his tone carried an unyielding firmness and majesty.

Longinus thought for a while and told the truth—what happened after he came here.

Yes, he cautiously didn't say his identity, didn't say he was Cesar's squire, nor that he was here to hold the Selection Ceremony. He was just a wandering knight, occasionally walking here, wanting to drink some water, but discovered a shameful crime happening here.

"Crime?" The Saracen raised his lips slightly: "You also think this is a crime."

"I didn't think so before," Longinus said honestly, "But I followed a kind master. To him, this is a crime. At any time, the strong should protect the weak, not bully the weak."

"But she is a Saracen."

"What's the difference? I don't think a girl under five feet tall can beat three knight lords to death with a wooden bucket."

He heard a pleasant laugh. "Look, just like an ancient Eastern proverb, things resemble their masters.

Knight, you are a cup of turbid wine. If you mix honey into it, it is a rare vintage. If you mix aconite into it, it is a bottle of poison that brings death."

He stood in front of Longinus and said, "You have a good master. This is your luck."

Afterward, he didn't wait for Longinus to ask about his background and identity, and walked into the collapsed bathhouse. He heard that person praying, in the Saracen way.

And then he saw the other party wrap the girl in his black cloak, put her on his shoulder, and gradually disappear from Longinus's field of vision.

Longinus fell asleep immediately, or it could be said he fainted.

When he woke up again, he only felt the light was dazzling. He wanted to raise his hand to cover it, but found himself unable to move.

"Longinus?" Someone reached out to him.

(End of chapter)