Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks-Chapter 497 - 276: Investiture

Perhaps the bloody scene of executing deserters in the square draws more attention, or maybe because it’s noon and the weather is hot, the market camp that had been bustling for several days suddenly became sparsely populated.

A group of ten from the Shayue Tribe walked in the camp.

The young people were still immersed in excitement.

"Derum, if you become a Knight, does that mean you could grant us the title of Knight too?"

Derum shook his head and said, "In theory, yes, but it has no real significance. I heard from Lord Ulm that in the Frankish homeland, there are destitute Landless Knights everywhere who often become roadside bandits."

In theory, a Knight can grant the title of Knight to others, and many merchants, eager to move up the social hierarchy, would donate a small sum to a poor Knight to have their family heir serve as his Attendant.

But it holds no practical meaning.

Many Wandering Knights without land have an even worse reputation in Europe than bandits. If caught committing crimes and hanged by the local Lord, they would not be granted immunity just for a Knight’s title.

"Well, at least it sounds nice to have a title."

Derum replied rather helplessly, "Okay, if you all think like this, after I obtain the Knight title, I would grant you the title too, but we can’t afford to have a Priest officiate the ceremony."

"Let’s just forget it."

The mature Ali spoke, "What’s the use of a meaningless title? At most, it sounds nice when talking to others, but we don’t speak Germanic Language. Besides, obtaining a title this way might make people look down on us."

"True enough."

The others reflected on the matter.

Derum continued, "We Kurds stand out in the camp as it is. Just as Ali said, it might be better for us to keep a low profile."

Young people are quick to think and quick to change their minds. One of them soon chuckled and said, "By the way, what do you think — should we join the Winged Cavalry or the Armored Cavalry regiment? I heard that in this battle, the Winged Cavalry made more gains; a third of those granted the Knight title came from them. However, the Armored Cavalry suffered less loss. They are practically encased in steel, regular weapons can hardly harm them."

Derum sighed, "It’s not that simple, do you think you can just choose at will?"

"Hey, didn’t they say Marquis Losa is expanding the standing army regiment? With Lord Ulm favoring you, perhaps you’ll get us into the Winged Cavalry regiment together."

Derum couldn’t help but laugh, "Stop dreaming, there are many waiting to join those regiments. We haven’t accomplished anything meaningful, and even my Knight title was earned by old Sheikh risking his life. Ask yourself, whose Martial Arts and Riding Skill can compare to the Winged Cavalry?"

These words disappointed everyone.

A group of young people wanting to make achievements and prove they can uphold the future of the Shayue Tribe, yet they were doing worse than the old folks left at home, which was deeply shameful.

Derum coughed, "Alright, during this rest period, everyone should practice their Martial Arts well. Pool the awarded Gold Coins together and first purchase decent Armor for yourselves — the Armor seized from the Saracens is cheap now; we should buy early. Many brothers died in this war because their armor and weapons were inferior."

"Yes."

Everyone agreed while selecting clothes in the market.

After a long wander, they still hadn’t found anything satisfactory.

After inquiring about the last stall’s price, Derum lamented, "The clothes in the market are so expensive."

A mere cloak would cost ten Suludes Gold Coins, a price that could buy ten plump pigs.

The vendor seemed Jewish, with black eyes, a lofty yellow turban, a blue outer coat, covering a white linen shirt inside, and a Hexagram Badge pinned on his chest.

He lay on a chair, lazily replying, "Expensive? This silk cloak seized from a Saracen noble’s tent is lightweight, sunproof, and very breathable. Ten Gold Coins are already a fair price."

Silk cloak, trickery!

Derum rolled his eyes. Even if rich, no one would extravagantly make cloaks from silk because it is impractical. A cloak is for shade and dust blocking; what use is breathability? Breathability is a needed Attribute for underwear.

He felt the material, "This is nothing but a cloak made from soft leather and linen."

The vendor was embarrassed and slapped Derum’s hand away, "If you can’t afford it, don’t touch randomly, poor wretches can check the opposite side. Over there, the bloody clothes stripped from dead bodies only require one Silver Coin to get a change."

Ali couldn’t hold back and responded in poor Germanic Language, "Mind your attitude, merchant. This is our Cavalry Squad Captain, who will be granted the Knight title by Marquis Losa this afternoon!"

The vendor somehow understood and sneered:

"Hehe, Marquis and Duke Raymond will host my uncle at a banquet tonight, so don’t expect Marquis Losa to pressure me with his name. It is just an un-knighted provisional knight of Saracen appearance."

On the word "provisional," he emphasized heavily, "Even that provisional Knight status might be fake — show your badge, or I have reason to suspect you’re a swindler posing as someone else."

"Enough Ali."

Derum did not want trouble with this seemingly wealthy person. Although Jewish, the vendor likely had connections with local merchant guilds, and they as Kurdish outsiders did not need unnecessary problems.

He grasped Ali’s arm, "Let’s go, let’s check across. If there are bloodstains, we could wash them out at home."

The vendor snorted and sat back down.

He truly did not fear Derum. His uncle was the biggest grain merchant in the Kingdom of Jerusalem’s North, and even Duke Raymond frequently invited his family to banquets; a mere poor Knight held no regard for him.

...

Ali gritted his teeth, his face full of anger: "Derum, if it weren’t for you stopping me today, I would have smashed that guy’s head."

"And then? Hang on the gallows?"

Derum cursed in a low voice: "Don’t make trouble. We are outsiders, don’t cause trouble for Lord Ulm."

Ali remained silent for a moment, then sighed: "I heard that the Marquis recently recruited a batch of Kurdish Cavalry. Their leader, Abdullah, is a Fire Worship practitioner, and he’s very valued by the Marquis."

"Do you think we should seek refuge with this Abdullah?"

Derum was somewhat tempted, but quickly shook his head: "No, for one, we’ve been away from the Kurdish gathering places in the North for many years, even our accent has changed, and now we’re a direct guard of the Ulm Knight. Switching to an unknown person would bring us no benefit."

Ali contemplated Derum’s words, nodded and said: "Derum, you really think it through, there’s a reason Sheikh chose you to lead us."

Derum and his party bought a yellow cloak from the opposite side, and the price was indeed very cheap—or rather, this was the real expert.

In the past few days as various military supplies have flooded the market, the price of Saracen robes and armor has dropped a lot.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, the group also bought several sets of second-hand scale armor from the market. Although there were repair marks on them, the quality of the armor was barely passable and much stronger than their original ones.

"Let’s go, get something to eat; at this time if we return, there definitely won’t be any food left at the camp."

Ali advised: "Derum, you definitely need to eat more at noon. I heard that after the knighting ceremony, the newly knighted need to pray for a whole night at the monastery chapel, during which eating is prohibited."

"Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to fill my belly as much as possible."

...

The afternoon’s knighting ceremony was grand, with many spectators, and it was hosted by high clergy including the Archbishop of Tyr, showing full display.

During the ceremony, Losa knighted 46 meritorious subjects, granting them land as their fiefdom, and required them to swear to serve him.

This was the main focus of the knighthood ceremony, not only was it just a titular title granted when knights knight knights, more importantly, it established the feudal relationship between the lord and the knight, setting out the rights and obligations of both parties.

Chelina silently watched this scene, unaware of what she was thinking.

At this moment, a figure walked towards her.

She greeted, "Good day, grandfather."

Very polite, but also very distant.

The one-faced defiant Venezia seemed a bit uneasy at this time, awkwardly smiling, but not knowing how to display the elder’s kindness—he always thought he was still very young.

"That Nina... Can you tell me what kind of person your father was?"

"Hmm..."

Chelina pondered for a moment, seemingly organizing her words, and then said: "Gran..."

Venezia interrupted: "You don’t have to call me that, just call me Venezia, our age gap isn’t that large yet."

"Um—Mr. Venezia, you just saw, the lord knighted many knights today."

"Yes, I saw it."

"Did you notice that the vast majority of them are not from noble origins? In our Wolf Race’s words, they are wandering wolves, non-family background commoners, only fit to be our slaves or peripheral members of the family."

"The lord knighted them because of their talents and their achievements."

Chelina paused slightly in her tone: "My father, your son, did the same as the lord, he relocated the foundations of the Basilicata Family to the New Continent, Texas, and there, established the organization known as the ’Wolf Race Federation’, recruiting a large number of wandering wolves—now, do you know what kind of person my father was?"

Venezia widened his eyes, his expression filled with entanglement.

"From your description, he sounds like a lawless person, even more rebellious than me."

The old order of the Wolf Race had already deeply rooted itself in the minds of every Wolf Race member, even Venezia was momentarily struck speechless by the "feat" of his future son.

"And what about the end?"

"The end of what?"

Venezia pursued: "Of course the end, the Wolf Lord definitely wouldn’t sit idly by while this ’association’ developed."

Chelina remained silent.

"Failed huh..."

No need for Chelina to answer, Derum could already guess the ending, he sighed: "Still too young, if it were me, no matter how much I disagreed with the old order of the Wolf Race, I wouldn’t take such a big step."