Medieval Gacha Lord-Chapter 81: A New Card Draw

Chapter 81: A New Card Draw

Sure enough, in the afternoon, His Excellency William, Archbishop of Tyre, arrived in a hurry with a group of clergymen to pay a visit. This was the most honored guest Constance Manor had received.

This Archbishop of Tyre hailed from Jerusalem’s noble class and had studied for twenty years in the classical colleges of the Continent. Thereafter, he was appointed by the late King as an envoy to the Eastern Empire.

Upon his return, he was appointed as Baldwin IV’s tutor. Furthermore, he was the widely recognized and strong successor to Heraclius, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who was advanced in age and no longer managed affairs.

"Your Excellency the Archbishop, it is a great honor to meet you."

A slight smile appeared on Archbishop William’s aged face. "Baron Lothar, I have long heard of your valor in slaying werewolves. Now you have once again performed this great feat. May I see the corpse of that werewolf?"

"Of course, Your Excellency."

Archbishop William circled the werewolf corpse, exclaiming in amazement, "This is the first time I have seen such a remarkably lifelike werewolf corpse! Previously, I had only seen a dried wolf skin in Bologna Cathedral, and I couldn’t even be certain if it was truly the skin of a werewolf and not an ordinary wild wolf."

The other clergymen also had faces filled with fervor and shock. A three-meter-tall behemoth, even in death, merely a shell, still conveyed an unimaginable shock to people.

’Is this truly something a mortal can deal with?’

"Baron Lothar, this is the protection of the Heavenly Father!"

Lothar timely nodded. "Indeed. If not for the Heavenly Father’s protection, my knights and I could never have defeated such a massive werewolf. I must inform you, Your Excellency, Abelardo, whom I defeated in the March of Austria, was a werewolf less than two meters tall, incomparable to this fierce beast before us. This is naturally a feat I could only accomplish because I am in this holy land of Jerusalem, having received the Heavenly Father’s protection."

Lothar attributed this achievement to a divine miracle.

Archbishop William made a sign of the cross before him and sighed with emotion.

"Baron, you are truly one favored by God. For Jerusalem, this is a most timely miracle. If possible, I hope, Baron, that you can offer the remains of this werewolf to the Church. I will show more people the great deed you accomplished under the Heavenly Father’s protection."

"Of course, no problem." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Lothar generously handed over the werewolf corpse to Archbishop William. Its most valuable heart had already been removed, and the remaining parts had little utility. Handing it over to Archbishop William for exhibition, or to be dried and tanned into a "holy relic," would greatly enhance his own prestige. It was a win-win situation.

Archbishop William was also astonished by Lothar’s generosity. He said gratefully, "Baron Lothar, you are truly a devout man. I hear your fief of Jorgklusburg still lacks a priest. Would you require me to dispatch a parish priest of high theological learning to reside in your castle’s chapel?"

Lothar quickly replied, "That would be excellent. I just hope it can be after some time. After all, the flames of war have already reached the border, and Jorgklusburg is not far from the frontier..."

Archbishop William understood. "I can appreciate that. When you need one, you can come to me at any time."

For Archbishop William to offer to send a priest to a barren fief like Jorgklusburg was certainly not for the sake of collecting the meager tithes, but was genuinely intended as a gesture of gratitude.

Unfortunately for him, Lothar was not a devout believer. He had no desire to have a clergyman with whom he had no prior relationship parachuted in to be on equal footing with him. Though clergy and secular lords had a relationship of mutual struggle and interdependence, Lothar had far too many "blasphemous things" under his command.

***

Time passed quickly. Five days later, within the great hall of the Royal Knights’ headquarters, Lothar was handling official business.

A newly trained Pilgrim Crusader unit under the Royal Knights, eight hundred strong, had already achieved initial combat capability.

At this time, the Crusader army campaigning in the north was reportedly advancing like hot knife through butter, having successively retaken lost territories. However, the infidel army under Sayf al-Din, Saladin’s nephew and Governor of Syria, which had originally been besieging Tripoli, had not engaged in a direct confrontation with the Crusaders but had instead been retreating steadily.

The Crusaders had advanced rashly once and were soundly defeated by a Mamluk cavalry ambush, leading to a stalemate between the two armies on the northern border of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

’If I were Saladin, this would be the perfect opportunity to attack Jerusalem. The northern Crusader army, already entangled with Sayf al-Din’s forces, would have no time and no leeway to return for a rescue. ’

Lothar’s face was fraught with worry. Not only was he aware of this, but even Count Raynald, that renowned reckless brute, had led his army back to his fief of Kerak yesterday to prepare for Saladin’s offensive.

The morale of Jerusalem’s residents, however, was not low. The tale of Lothar, a mortal man, slaying a werewolf had already spread far and wide these past few days. The genuine werewolf corpse had dispelled all doubts in people’s minds, making Lothar once again a figure of renown among Jerusalem’s nobility.

At noon, the system’s notification sound chimed: [You have received a new card draw chance.]

Lothar then realized that today marked exactly one week since he had left Jorgklusburg and arrived in Jerusalem to assume his post. Without hesitation, he directly chose to draw a card.

A cyan light flashed. A tall priest in a black robe slowly materialized within the hall. In his hands, he cradled a Bible bound with golden chains. He had somewhat whitish, short-cropped hair and a handsome face, resembling an English gentleman.

A hint of surprise crossed Lothar’s face. As a healer retainer designed by Lothar himself, Father Uldin’s status among 4-star healer retainers was like Fringilla’s among 5-star retainers—absolute top-tier!

[Name: Father Uldin

Quality: Extraordinary (4-Star)

Level: 1

Affection: Indifferent

Strength: 10

Agility: 7

Stamina: 12

Endurance: 20

Spirit: 25]

[Talents:

Archangel’s Blessing: This retainer can communicate with the power of Archangels through spiritual force to aid the wounded.

Codex: When healing, this retainer has a certain probability of dispelling negative statuses from the target.]

[Skills:

Holy Shield: While healing a target, slightly increases their defense.

Elite Skill: Suffering Monk: Completely transfers damage received by a designated target to other specified targets.

Elite Tier 2 Skill: None.]

[Profile: Uldin of Tuscany, originally a descendant of a Grand Duchess of Tuscany, ascended to the seat of Archbishop of Milan in his middle age. Later, a werewolf scourge swept through all of Tuscany, and its sovereignty was usurped by the "Yakus" werewolf family of the Two Sicilies. Thereafter, the Yakus patriarch demanded a daily tribute of one living person’s flesh and blood from the church. Unable to bear colluding with the werewolf family, Archbishop Uldin resolutely chose to leave Tuscany and became a wandering ascetic monk.]

The moment Father Uldin appeared, his face was cold. "I smell the aura of the wolf clan. Milord, you have actually sheltered those barbaric wolf beasts under your command?"

"Uldin, relax. Hans was once a squire of the Teutonic Order. It was I who bestowed upon him the wolf bloodline. He is not one of the Two Sicilies wolves."

(Note: The Two Sicilies refers to Naples and Sicily, i.e., the southern Italy.)

"Is that so..." Uldin’s face remained stern. Suddenly, he added, "And vampires, and the Ghost Race. Milord, is there no one under your command who inclines towards the light?"

Lothar frowned. "Uldin, are you criticizing me?"

Uldin’s face was impassive, betraying no emotion. The two locked gazes for a long moment before he finally lowered his head. "Milord, I should not interfere with your decisions, but forgive me, I cannot approve of such actions."

A trace of anger also welled up in Lothar’s heart.

"Uldin, do you know where this is? This is Jerusalem! And I am the Baron of Jorgklusburg and Grand Master of the Royal Knights, personally appointed by the King of Jerusalem! Archbishop William of Tyre and Patriarch Heraclius of Jerusalem both stand for me, proclaiming me divinely favored!"

Uldin remained silent.

"We both know this actually proves nothing. I am not ’divinely favored’. Are there not Popes aplenty wallowing in greed, with illegitimate children everywhere? Since you were once in the Church and held the high rank of Archbishop, you should know what a den of filth the Church can be! Who is holy, who represents the light—how can you possibly define that?"

Uldin remained silent. But Lothar knew this stubborn, unyielding man would definitely not take his words to heart.

"Uldin, many of the Two Sicilies wolves have committed evil acts of cannibalism, but there are also a few who harbor good intentions and coexist peacefully with humans. Every group has its villains. The Church, with its tithes and selling of indulgences, squeezing every last copper from the commoners—how is that different from man-eating wolves? Whether a person inclines towards light or darkness should not be judged by their bloodline, nor by what they say, but by what they DO." Lothar snorted coldly. "I have said my piece."

Father Uldin’s face remained stern, as if Lothar’s words had not swayed his heart in the slightest. But the system notification of increased affection indicated that he had, after all, been somewhat touched.

Uldin made a sign of the cross before him and knelt on one knee. "Regardless, I am willing to offer you my loyalty."

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on f(r)e𝒆webn(o)vel.com