The thousand-year-old city of Yesak is located in a natural location.
The walls of Yesak hugged the steep cliffs behind them, limiting the attack route to the front.
However, the walls to meet the attackers were built in three layers, so that the first, second, and third lines of defense had to be broken through to enter the city.
This was also the reason why the ruler of Yesak, Imam Hatun, as well as many members of the Third Crusade and no one in the Central Continent expected Yesak to fall.
However, 'Alfonso Casco Nero' and the 'Black Helmets' he led made the impossible possible.
“If we attack from the top of the siege tower, we have the advantage of height!”
After the archers' hail of arrows signaling the start of battle rained down on the walls of Yesak, fierce javelins struck the defenders for a second time.
These were spears thrown by hand by knights who had been rolling around on the battlefield for the past four years, not by a separate spear unit.
There was an incomparable difference in power between the regular soldiers and the knights.
After roughly clearing out the defense troops on the wall, the black helmet unit threw wooden ladders woven with nets and infiltrated directly onto the wall.
The inaction of each and every one of them was so overwhelming that the pagan defense force deployed on the walls after a short training session could not hold out.
After the gates were opened like that, things went smoothly.
“Drive them! Behind them are only rabble!”
The defense forces, who had built a defensive line by concentrating supplies and soldiers on the outermost wall, were thrown into confusion when the first line of defense was breached.
The second line of defense was easier than the first.
After the second line was broken through, there was internal strife among the defense forces over whether to surrender or fight to the death. Naturally, the third line was much easier.
During the Battle of Al-Rummani, Prince Yuldenburg suffered a fractured hip joint after falling from his horse.
After that, he had difficulty riding a horse and could not directly command the troops. Prince Alfonso filled the vacancy.
In other words, the commander of the central forces and the overall commander in the Battle of Yesak was Alfonso, and the person who received the greatest fruits of the victory was also Alfonso.
“The Etruscan Prince has captured Yesak!”
“I heard that he will soon return to the Central Continent as a victorious general.”
“I heard that our Prince wielded the holy sword ‘Kaledbuh’ of ‘Lion King William’? They say that whoever wields it will become the Emperor of the Central Continent!”
The Etruscans were delighted by the news of the victory of their long-lost legitimate Prince, Alfonso de Carlo.
It was as if the past when they doubted his loyalty by saying that he was of Gallico woman's bloodline had never happened.
Three years earlier, when the Gallico heavy cavalry had invaded, the Etruscan kingdom had only defeated them, thanks to the Black Death that had struck the Gallico knights at the time but had never defeated the Gallico in battle.
The Golden Prince, who had been performing outstandingly in Yesak and had raised the name of the Etruscan Kingdom, had washed away the Etruscan people's sense of defeatism in one go.
The people all praised the Prince. However, there was one person, or rather, one couple, who was very unhappy with this atmosphere.
“Can he possibly take the throne just because he has one sword?”
Leo III, who was feeling very uncomfortable, spat out harshly.
“You worm-like people are making a fuss for nothing.”
Rubina, a beautiful middle-aged woman with red hair, received the King's words.
“The crusader fleet will soon be docking at Taranto. The Prince has returned, so the subordinates must not have any idle thoughts.”
Leo III had been living quietly with Rubina since his failed attempt to make Ariadne his Queen three years earlier.
Countess de Mare, Ariadne's voluntary payment of grain taxes had eliminated the immediate need to secure grain, and she had even become engaged to his own son.
Even if he was Leo III, it was impossible to make his son's (officially his nephew's) former fiancee the official Queen, who was not even his government.
Besides, except for Ariadne de Mare, no woman particularly caught the King's eye.
There was no politically advantageous match, nor was there a woman whose beauty would captivate the King.
Duchess Rubina was maintaining her uneasy position as the King's sister-in-law and government official.
Naturally, she was desperate to please the King.
“No, actually, it doesn’t matter what the lower ones think.”
She smiled and slyly consoled him that there was no need for the King to be disturbed by the uneasy atmosphere among the people.
Taxes were collected by the nobles and sent to the royal family. The opinions of the people themselves were not considered a major factor.
Except that Leo III was in a slightly bad mood. She decided to take full advantage of this King's bad mood.
“But... I have no idea what the knights that Prince Alfonso will bring are thinking. Knights are people who have outrageous fantasies.”
His eldest son, who had captured Yesak and returned to the Central Continent as a victorious general, was returning with the 800 knights he had taken under his wing during the Crusades.
He said that those who decided to follow the Prince to the end were those who settled locally and those who returned to their homeland.
It was an absurd number. Eight hundred heavily armed knights with battle experience. They were armed to the same extent as any condottiero.
If they added 2,000-3,000 ground troops to this, it would be a force capable of conducting small-scale sieges or medium-scale counterattacks.
Leo III's face turned pale at the thought stirred by Duchess Rubina. He had already experienced the rebellion of his son.
Duchess Rubina asked secretly.
“Those guys... would it be okay if you allowed them to come inside the walls?”
Leo III sat on the throne in silence, gripping the handlebars of the throne tightly.
“Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared? Even if it’s just one... just one.”
The King's white beard trembled. He would never allow himself to be shamed by his own son again.
“Raphael, Alfonso is back!”
Ariadne greeted the news of Alfonso's return with joy.
“How much suffering must have gone on in a distant land!”
It was only after her joy had passed that the apparent distance between Alfonso and Ariadne came over her.
While Alfonso was away, Ariadne had one engagement and one broken engagement.
Even if it wasn't intentional, it was an undeniable fact. And it had been a long time since she had lost contact with Alfonso, almost four years ago.
Suddenly realizing her current situation, she remained silent for a moment before smiling bitterly.
Raphael looked at Ariadne, who had become quiet. She stammered and tried to make an excuse.
“Well. So. As a friend and as a subject serving his lord, I am glad to see Prince Alfonso’s return.”
Raphael noticed Ariadne's hesitation but pretended not to notice.
“It’s been a while since I last saw him, but Alfonso didn’t seem to be in that much trouble.”
He was not so shameless as to immediately instigate Ariadne's embarrassment and steer the conversation in that direction.
Also, it was heartbreaking to see her being so cautious. Raphael comforted Ariadne as if he knew nothing.
“The battlefield was like a suit that fit Alfonso perfectly. That’s why he was revered as the god of war and returned.”
She answered with a faint smile.
“Is that so?”
A look of deep thought crossed Ariadne's face. She still thought of Alfonso as her lover.
She harbored hopes that if he returned, the flame that had been dormant might be rekindled, but she was too shameless to show it, so she acted like that.
Raphael stopped playing the fool and blurted out his true feelings.
“I know I haven’t been in touch with Alfonso for a long time, but there must have been some circumstances. That’s the Alfonso I know.”
Because he's not the type of friend who would run away like a coward.
“If there was a misunderstanding, talk it out and everything will be resolved. Now is the time to come back. This is your chance. Don’t worry too much and make assumptions.”
Raphael was criticizing himself in his head as he spoke.
A fool who can't even take advantage of the opportunities that come his way. And that was him.
How nice it would have been if he had just pretended not to know and just eaten it. That's why he was stuck next to Ariadne for three years and couldn't do anything.
But Ariadne smiled brightly when she heard those words.
The sunlight streaming into her study sparkled like gold dust on her gloomy, pale skin.
That ray of light, that smile, made Raphael happier than if he had received a thousand gold coins.
She answered Raphael with a shy smile, hope rising in her.
"Thank you."
“...”
Raphael was momentarily at a loss for words.
All he could muster up in his mouth afterward was the remark that stabbed his own eyes: "You're absolutely right. I was only telling the truth."
Fortunately, just before Raphael de Baldessar could commit another bed-ridden act of self-destruction that would have made him kick the covers off his bed tonight, there was an urgent knock on the door of Ariadne's study.
Knock knock!
"What's the matter?"
"Miss!"
It was Sancha who came into the study in a hurry.
“The letter has arrived!”
Sancha barely managed to catch her breath as she watched Ariadne looking at her with an expression that said, 'Is that really that important?'
“Look at the sender! I think you’ll want to see it soon.”
Ariadne checked the sender on the envelope with a face full of question marks.
"Port of Taranto, Third Crusade."
Ariadne's eyes widened. There was only one person in the Third Crusade who would send her a letter.
Her hands were shaking. Ariadne kept opening the letter with trembling hands and fumbling with it. The more she was anxious, the more her hands and feet would not obey her.
“Are you okay, Ari?”
She didn't even have time to answer Raphael's question. She barely managed to unseal the envelope and hurriedly took in the contents.
The letter was quite long. It was rather large and crudely written, but it filled the front and back of a whole sheet of parchment.
As she read the letter, Ariadne's expression became increasingly pale.
She read the first page quickly and the second page even faster.
It was at such a speed that it would be more appropriate to say that she skimmed through it rather than read it. It was simply not something she could read thoroughly.
"Ari?"
Raphael asked again at her unusual expression.
"Qre you okay?"
He put his hand on her shoulder. Her shoulder was shaking.
“What is it about?”
Ariadne barely managed to spit out the words with her face as pale as death.
“Raphael...”
Raphael glanced at the letter in Ariadne’s hand. The letter, written in blue ink, had only the sender’s name written as “A.”
“Excuse me, can you leave me alone?”
Raphael opened his eyes wide and looked at Ariadne. His face was filled with an unmistakable desire to know, a yearning that went beyond curiosity.
But Ariadne didn't have the presence of mind to take care of it properly. She barely managed to force a smile.
“It was all... I guess it was a vain hope.”
I just thought to myself.
Ariadne lowered her head.
“Commander... No, Prince!”
Alfonso turned his gaze to Sir Bernardino, who had called him from atop his white horse.
"Hmm?"
Prince Alfonso and his knights, who landed at the port of Taranto, began their overland march amidst the enthusiastic welcome of the southerners.
They were now passing through the outlying plains about a day and a half's journey from the capital, San Carlo.
“It looks like Sir Elko brought something.”
As Alfonso listened to Sir Dino's story, he looked to the back of the procession and saw Sir Elko galloping forward, holding the reins with one hand and riding furiously.
After losing an arm and an eye, his balance was impaired, his spine was twisted, and he was hunchbacked, his head thrust forward.
Prince Alfonso waited silently for Sir Elko's message.
“His Majesty! A message from His Majesty the King has arrived from Palazzo Carlo.”
Alfonso laughed, a cynicism unbecoming of the warm spring sunshine of the Etruscan kingdom.
The message from his father could not have been a pleasant one.
Prince Alfonso, heavily armed in black armor, proudly turned his horse's head to the right.
He had the smell of a rough soldier's sweat and the uprightness of royalty at the same time.
The black armor he wore was perfectly tailored and proper, but it was worn and scratched, clearly showing the wear and tear of battle.
The Prince's blond hair once praised as flowing like honey, had been battered by the desert sun and had faded to the color of desert sand.
The hair that was roughly cut off at shoulder length was a bonus. It was cut with a field dagger used for cutting ropes and cutting tree roots.
On the front lines, there was no time to have a haircut to keep up with the fashion. His skin was also tanned brown under the merciless sun, and he looked completely different from the young Prince of the Etruscan kingdom who had fluffy hair.
However, the high forehead, the neat nose that rose below it, and the tightly pursed lips revealed an air of the past that could not be hidden.
The way he moved his body with restraint was also an unforgettable trace of his childhood.
“Hand it over.”
Sir Elko quietly handed the Prince the note brought by the King's messenger.
The towering figure of Alfonso intersected with the twisted and shrunken silhouette of Sir Elko.
A commander 1.5 times larger than the others, Alfonso was intimidating even when he was still.
But his expression on reading the King's message quietly distorted. The atmosphere around him was also distorted all at once.
The walls of Yesak hugged the steep cliffs behind them, limiting the attack route to the front.
However, the walls to meet the attackers were built in three layers, so that the first, second, and third lines of defense had to be broken through to enter the city.
This was also the reason why the ruler of Yesak, Imam Hatun, as well as many members of the Third Crusade and no one in the Central Continent expected Yesak to fall.
However, 'Alfonso Casco Nero' and the 'Black Helmets' he led made the impossible possible.
“If we attack from the top of the siege tower, we have the advantage of height!”
After the archers' hail of arrows signaling the start of battle rained down on the walls of Yesak, fierce javelins struck the defenders for a second time.
These were spears thrown by hand by knights who had been rolling around on the battlefield for the past four years, not by a separate spear unit.
There was an incomparable difference in power between the regular soldiers and the knights.
After roughly clearing out the defense troops on the wall, the black helmet unit threw wooden ladders woven with nets and infiltrated directly onto the wall.
The inaction of each and every one of them was so overwhelming that the pagan defense force deployed on the walls after a short training session could not hold out.
After the gates were opened like that, things went smoothly.
“Drive them! Behind them are only rabble!”
The defense forces, who had built a defensive line by concentrating supplies and soldiers on the outermost wall, were thrown into confusion when the first line of defense was breached.
The second line of defense was easier than the first.
After the second line was broken through, there was internal strife among the defense forces over whether to surrender or fight to the death. Naturally, the third line was much easier.
During the Battle of Al-Rummani, Prince Yuldenburg suffered a fractured hip joint after falling from his horse.
After that, he had difficulty riding a horse and could not directly command the troops. Prince Alfonso filled the vacancy.
In other words, the commander of the central forces and the overall commander in the Battle of Yesak was Alfonso, and the person who received the greatest fruits of the victory was also Alfonso.
“The Etruscan Prince has captured Yesak!”
“I heard that he will soon return to the Central Continent as a victorious general.”
“I heard that our Prince wielded the holy sword ‘Kaledbuh’ of ‘Lion King William’? They say that whoever wields it will become the Emperor of the Central Continent!”
The Etruscans were delighted by the news of the victory of their long-lost legitimate Prince, Alfonso de Carlo.
It was as if the past when they doubted his loyalty by saying that he was of Gallico woman's bloodline had never happened.
Three years earlier, when the Gallico heavy cavalry had invaded, the Etruscan kingdom had only defeated them, thanks to the Black Death that had struck the Gallico knights at the time but had never defeated the Gallico in battle.
The Golden Prince, who had been performing outstandingly in Yesak and had raised the name of the Etruscan Kingdom, had washed away the Etruscan people's sense of defeatism in one go.
The people all praised the Prince. However, there was one person, or rather, one couple, who was very unhappy with this atmosphere.
“Can he possibly take the throne just because he has one sword?”
Leo III, who was feeling very uncomfortable, spat out harshly.
“You worm-like people are making a fuss for nothing.”
Rubina, a beautiful middle-aged woman with red hair, received the King's words.
“The crusader fleet will soon be docking at Taranto. The Prince has returned, so the subordinates must not have any idle thoughts.”
Leo III had been living quietly with Rubina since his failed attempt to make Ariadne his Queen three years earlier.
Countess de Mare, Ariadne's voluntary payment of grain taxes had eliminated the immediate need to secure grain, and she had even become engaged to his own son.
Even if he was Leo III, it was impossible to make his son's (officially his nephew's) former fiancee the official Queen, who was not even his government.
Besides, except for Ariadne de Mare, no woman particularly caught the King's eye.
There was no politically advantageous match, nor was there a woman whose beauty would captivate the King.
Duchess Rubina was maintaining her uneasy position as the King's sister-in-law and government official.
Naturally, she was desperate to please the King.
“No, actually, it doesn’t matter what the lower ones think.”
She smiled and slyly consoled him that there was no need for the King to be disturbed by the uneasy atmosphere among the people.
Taxes were collected by the nobles and sent to the royal family. The opinions of the people themselves were not considered a major factor.
Except that Leo III was in a slightly bad mood. She decided to take full advantage of this King's bad mood.
“But... I have no idea what the knights that Prince Alfonso will bring are thinking. Knights are people who have outrageous fantasies.”
His eldest son, who had captured Yesak and returned to the Central Continent as a victorious general, was returning with the 800 knights he had taken under his wing during the Crusades.
He said that those who decided to follow the Prince to the end were those who settled locally and those who returned to their homeland.
It was an absurd number. Eight hundred heavily armed knights with battle experience. They were armed to the same extent as any condottiero.
If they added 2,000-3,000 ground troops to this, it would be a force capable of conducting small-scale sieges or medium-scale counterattacks.
Leo III's face turned pale at the thought stirred by Duchess Rubina. He had already experienced the rebellion of his son.
Duchess Rubina asked secretly.
“Those guys... would it be okay if you allowed them to come inside the walls?”
Leo III sat on the throne in silence, gripping the handlebars of the throne tightly.
“Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared? Even if it’s just one... just one.”
The King's white beard trembled. He would never allow himself to be shamed by his own son again.
***
“Raphael, Alfonso is back!”
Ariadne greeted the news of Alfonso's return with joy.
“How much suffering must have gone on in a distant land!”
It was only after her joy had passed that the apparent distance between Alfonso and Ariadne came over her.
While Alfonso was away, Ariadne had one engagement and one broken engagement.
Even if it wasn't intentional, it was an undeniable fact. And it had been a long time since she had lost contact with Alfonso, almost four years ago.
Suddenly realizing her current situation, she remained silent for a moment before smiling bitterly.
Raphael looked at Ariadne, who had become quiet. She stammered and tried to make an excuse.
“Well. So. As a friend and as a subject serving his lord, I am glad to see Prince Alfonso’s return.”
Raphael noticed Ariadne's hesitation but pretended not to notice.
“It’s been a while since I last saw him, but Alfonso didn’t seem to be in that much trouble.”
He was not so shameless as to immediately instigate Ariadne's embarrassment and steer the conversation in that direction.
Also, it was heartbreaking to see her being so cautious. Raphael comforted Ariadne as if he knew nothing.
“The battlefield was like a suit that fit Alfonso perfectly. That’s why he was revered as the god of war and returned.”
She answered with a faint smile.
“Is that so?”
A look of deep thought crossed Ariadne's face. She still thought of Alfonso as her lover.
She harbored hopes that if he returned, the flame that had been dormant might be rekindled, but she was too shameless to show it, so she acted like that.
Raphael stopped playing the fool and blurted out his true feelings.
“I know I haven’t been in touch with Alfonso for a long time, but there must have been some circumstances. That’s the Alfonso I know.”
Because he's not the type of friend who would run away like a coward.
“If there was a misunderstanding, talk it out and everything will be resolved. Now is the time to come back. This is your chance. Don’t worry too much and make assumptions.”
Raphael was criticizing himself in his head as he spoke.
A fool who can't even take advantage of the opportunities that come his way. And that was him.
How nice it would have been if he had just pretended not to know and just eaten it. That's why he was stuck next to Ariadne for three years and couldn't do anything.
But Ariadne smiled brightly when she heard those words.
The sunlight streaming into her study sparkled like gold dust on her gloomy, pale skin.
That ray of light, that smile, made Raphael happier than if he had received a thousand gold coins.
She answered Raphael with a shy smile, hope rising in her.
"Thank you."
“...”
Raphael was momentarily at a loss for words.
All he could muster up in his mouth afterward was the remark that stabbed his own eyes: "You're absolutely right. I was only telling the truth."
Fortunately, just before Raphael de Baldessar could commit another bed-ridden act of self-destruction that would have made him kick the covers off his bed tonight, there was an urgent knock on the door of Ariadne's study.
Knock knock!
"What's the matter?"
"Miss!"
It was Sancha who came into the study in a hurry.
“The letter has arrived!”
Sancha barely managed to catch her breath as she watched Ariadne looking at her with an expression that said, 'Is that really that important?'
“Look at the sender! I think you’ll want to see it soon.”
Ariadne checked the sender on the envelope with a face full of question marks.
"Port of Taranto, Third Crusade."
Ariadne's eyes widened. There was only one person in the Third Crusade who would send her a letter.
Her hands were shaking. Ariadne kept opening the letter with trembling hands and fumbling with it. The more she was anxious, the more her hands and feet would not obey her.
“Are you okay, Ari?”
She didn't even have time to answer Raphael's question. She barely managed to unseal the envelope and hurriedly took in the contents.
The letter was quite long. It was rather large and crudely written, but it filled the front and back of a whole sheet of parchment.
As she read the letter, Ariadne's expression became increasingly pale.
She read the first page quickly and the second page even faster.
It was at such a speed that it would be more appropriate to say that she skimmed through it rather than read it. It was simply not something she could read thoroughly.
"Ari?"
Raphael asked again at her unusual expression.
"Qre you okay?"
He put his hand on her shoulder. Her shoulder was shaking.
“What is it about?”
Ariadne barely managed to spit out the words with her face as pale as death.
“Raphael...”
Raphael glanced at the letter in Ariadne’s hand. The letter, written in blue ink, had only the sender’s name written as “A.”
“Excuse me, can you leave me alone?”
Raphael opened his eyes wide and looked at Ariadne. His face was filled with an unmistakable desire to know, a yearning that went beyond curiosity.
But Ariadne didn't have the presence of mind to take care of it properly. She barely managed to force a smile.
“It was all... I guess it was a vain hope.”
I just thought to myself.
Ariadne lowered her head.
***
“Commander... No, Prince!”
Alfonso turned his gaze to Sir Bernardino, who had called him from atop his white horse.
"Hmm?"
Prince Alfonso and his knights, who landed at the port of Taranto, began their overland march amidst the enthusiastic welcome of the southerners.
They were now passing through the outlying plains about a day and a half's journey from the capital, San Carlo.
“It looks like Sir Elko brought something.”
As Alfonso listened to Sir Dino's story, he looked to the back of the procession and saw Sir Elko galloping forward, holding the reins with one hand and riding furiously.
After losing an arm and an eye, his balance was impaired, his spine was twisted, and he was hunchbacked, his head thrust forward.
Prince Alfonso waited silently for Sir Elko's message.
“His Majesty! A message from His Majesty the King has arrived from Palazzo Carlo.”
Alfonso laughed, a cynicism unbecoming of the warm spring sunshine of the Etruscan kingdom.
The message from his father could not have been a pleasant one.
Prince Alfonso, heavily armed in black armor, proudly turned his horse's head to the right.
He had the smell of a rough soldier's sweat and the uprightness of royalty at the same time.
The black armor he wore was perfectly tailored and proper, but it was worn and scratched, clearly showing the wear and tear of battle.
The Prince's blond hair once praised as flowing like honey, had been battered by the desert sun and had faded to the color of desert sand.
The hair that was roughly cut off at shoulder length was a bonus. It was cut with a field dagger used for cutting ropes and cutting tree roots.
On the front lines, there was no time to have a haircut to keep up with the fashion. His skin was also tanned brown under the merciless sun, and he looked completely different from the young Prince of the Etruscan kingdom who had fluffy hair.
However, the high forehead, the neat nose that rose below it, and the tightly pursed lips revealed an air of the past that could not be hidden.
The way he moved his body with restraint was also an unforgettable trace of his childhood.
“Hand it over.”
Sir Elko quietly handed the Prince the note brought by the King's messenger.
The towering figure of Alfonso intersected with the twisted and shrunken silhouette of Sir Elko.
A commander 1.5 times larger than the others, Alfonso was intimidating even when he was still.
But his expression on reading the King's message quietly distorted. The atmosphere around him was also distorted all at once.
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