Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 431 - 115: Preparing for Battle

Derum finally managed to acquire the "Treasure Armor" from old Hassan.

This was a set of Guram Cavalry Armor, with iron chains linked together and coated with anti-rust grease.

He laid the dismantled components flat on the table and examined them carefully. They seemed to be reasonably maintained, though quite old, with larger rings that weren’t as intricate as fine Chain Armor.

On some broken links, there were visible signs of re-forging, and the craftsmanship wasn’t quite up to par, probably due to a rather average blacksmith doing the repairs.

Yet, Derum was still overjoyed; it wasn’t just an armor, but a symbol of identity. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

For the nomads, for whom ironware was costly, wearing armor meant being part of the aristocracy of the nomads. Even among the Crusaders, only the wealthier soldiers could afford armor, while the lower-tier soldiers might only don a cloak at most.

"Dad, help me try it on."

Derum said excitedly to his father.

As a recruit with his own equipment, what gear he brought often determined his profession. Although Losa had a considerable estate now, after an expansion, the armory was empty enough for a rat to gallop through.

The newly crafted Plate Armor had to be sold in Jerusalem for profit and prioritized for the Imperial Knights. The crude Chest Armor had to be reserved for the standing army and local guards.

Therefore, for recruits like Derum, the Hebron Court, currently headed by Kurs, could not be responsible for fulfilling their equipment needs—at most, they could provide a Long Spear and an un-padded Shield to those empty-handed.

His father helped Derum don the armor and looked him up and down, with a touch of sentiment on his face: "Looks like a real cavalry—though, don’t get too proud just yet. Compared to those ruthless Mamluks, you’re just a rookie; value your life."

Derum nodded: "I understand. I’m planning to talk to Lord Ulm. If he’s willing, I’d like to be his Standard Bearer. It’s definitely safer than heading straight to the battlefield, and there’s a greater chance of being noticed by Lord Ulm and becoming his Squire Cavalry."

"Lord Ulm is indeed trustworthy."

His father was silent for a while, hesitating but having nothing more to add—after all, there’s no battlefield without danger.

Being a Light Cavalry is always easier to retreat than those Spear Infantry when things go south.

Derum assured: "Don’t worry, Dad. You know my Riding Skill. If defeated, I’d definitely run faster than anyone."

His father pondered for a moment. As a nomad of limited experience, he’d fought against wolves and bandits, but that was far from real warfare.

"Remember to gather your buddies tomorrow, unite them. Even a lion fears a pack of hyenas; on the battlefield, only you guys can truly trust each other."

"Don’t worry Dad, ever since my older brothers died in battle, everyone listens to me now."

He donned the Face-covering Chain Armor Helmet, leaving only his eyes visible: "Ugh, I can hardly breathe; this thing is really heavy. Mom, make me a leather shoulder pad."

The woman beside him, full of love, smiled and replied: "Sure, there’s a piece of lambskin in the storeroom your dad got from the tanner a couple days ago. I’ll make it for you by the oil lamp, and you’ll have it by morning."

His father said from the side: "Take it off now. Did the Sheikh teach you how to maintain it? You can’t wash this iron stuff with water, can you?"

"Of course, this needs to be washed with sand—the very fine kind, rubbed thoroughly. After each wash, it must be oiled. If it rains, it would be a disaster, though, fortunately, the rain here is as rare as a pretty girl."

His father spat and said: "You cheeky brat."

...

Early the next morning, Derum, accompanied by ten carefully chosen buddies, set off for Alandler City.

Whether it was an illusion, or not, as he rode on the camel’s back, he felt like the way people looked at him on the road had changed.

Some nomads herding sheep even respectfully made way for him, addressing him as "Sir," for they were truly ignorant country folks.

How could I be regarded as a "Sir"?

Only someone like Lord Ulm, qualified to wear a knight’s Silver Plate Armor with their own crest, deserved to be called "Sir"!

I will become a Knight someday!

Upon reaching Alandler, he slowed his pace and whispered a warning: "Don’t provoke those raggedly dressed people; they might be so-called Ascetics. If you rouse them, the guards will throw you into the Water Prison and drown you."

Even feeling slightly elated, Derum was well aware this was the Frank’s territory, despite the Lord’s open-mindedness here.

His buddies all nodded, looking at this city they’d never set foot in with the kind of glances a country mouse would have in a grand mansion—only Derum among them had been here before.

Ahead, there came a group of knights dressed in Cross Cloaks, wearing Plate Armor underneath, and he hastily led his buddies aside. These were Defender Knights of the Saint Lazarus Order, excellently equipped and skilled in Martial Arts.

"When can we be like them?"

One of the buddies sighed in admiration.