Lothar's Armored Soldiers

Jerusalem.

Constance Manor.

Ryan watched Moder train the new recruits with utter boredom.

Mustering into ranks, marching with staves, turning left and right, crouching and standing, square formations, circular formations.

A chaotic clatter of footsteps filled the once-clean and orderly manor with dust.

"Everyone, stand at attention where you are! No talking, no movement of any kind, until the church bells ring!"

Moder shouted with a stern expression.

With his thick beard and naturally imposing face, he was better suited than Ryan to be a drill instructor for new recruits.

He gripped a riding crop in his hand, and the moment he noticed anyone moving, he lashed them without hesitation.

Under the blazing sun, the fully armored recruits were already drenched in sweat.

If Constance Manor had not offered higher pay and meals far better than those provided to soldiers conscripted by the Kingdom of Jerusalem, there was no way these men could have endured such tedious training.

In their eyes, this training was completely useless, nothing more than torment for torment's sake.

It simply could not improve their chances of surviving on the battlefield.

It would have been more useful to take wooden swords and hack wildly at targets.

Only after a full quarter of an hour did the church bells finally ring.

The recruits immediately let out a breath and slumped onto the ground, some squatting, others sitting.

"Remove your armor and rest!"

Moder ordered.

"Next, I'll teach you how to maintain your armor and weapons. I'm sure you all understand the value of the armor you're wearing. It's worth more than you are, and it is the foundation of your survival on the battlefield!"

The recruits' expressions turned solemn. Of course, they knew how much a suit of armor cost.

Before coming to the Holy Land, when they had been conscripted peasant soldiers or city militiamen, their Lords would never have provided them with armor. That was a privilege reserved only for a Lord's personal guard.

This was also one of the reasons the recruits could endure this training.

Ryan sat lazily beneath the shade of a tree, watching Moder explain these basics.

A moment later, the explanation ended.

The recruits began another long session of "standing punishment."

Moder walked over beneath the blazing sun. When he removed his helmet, water could practically be poured from it.

"I know milord is training the discipline of these armored soldiers, so they can move as one on the battlefield and not collapse easily when cavalry charges into their ranks."

"But this training is just too boring. And not one of the settlers brought from Austria has been any good."

Moder frowned. "Ryan, training a new army is inherently dull and tedious. But you must understand that this new army will be the foundation for both of us in the future. How well they are trained concerns our future prospects."

A trace of fervor flashed through Moder's eyes. "Don't you want to be like those knightly Lords, dressed in splendid armor and riding freely across the battlefield?"

"I do, but you've seen them. These idiots can't even tell left from right. A simple turning drill leaves them in a mess like a flock of startled sheep. How could they possibly satisfy milord like this?"

"Then make them train more!"

Moder gritted his teeth.

The recruits' training truly left much to be desired. Though they were strong and sturdy, most of them were illiterate, and only a very few had attended church schools.

If they could not even distinguish left from right, how could they form dense ranks and march in step?

If they could not even line up properly, then they were merely conscripts in armor—nothing but for show.

At that moment, the sound of hoofbeats slowly drifted in from the streets.

A knight clad in Saracen-style black scale armor slowly entered the manor, drawing astonished looks from Ryan and Moder.

"Halt! This is Lord Lothar's private manor! Visitors are not welcome!"

"Heathen, you have defiled this pure land!"

Ryan and Moder immediately seized their weapons and surrounded him.

Several settlers standing guard followed with weapons in hand. They had trained the longest and had already developed some basic combat ability.

"We've only been apart for half a month, and you no longer recognize me?"

A familiar voice rang out.

Ryan, Moder, and all the settlers instantly looked delighted.

"It's milord's voice!"

"The Lord has returned!"

Without Lothar, they had been like people without a backbone.

Ryan and Moder were decent soldiers, but they still lacked the ability to stand on their own.

The knight removed the veil and Turban wrapped around his face. "Ryan, Moder, and my settlers, it has been a long time."

He turned his gaze toward the recruits training on their feet.

Though their faces were full of surprise and curiosity, they did not swarm over to watch the spectacle.

Moder's harsh training had already begun to show results.

Lothar stuffed the reins into Ryan's hands and walked straight over to the group of recruits.

"Nice to meet you, my soldiers. I am your lord, the one to whom you owe loyalty, and the employer who pays your wages. You have trained well. Keep it up."

Then he instructed Moder, "Serve extra food tonight. Give everyone meat."

The recruits immediately erupted into cheers.

"Long live!"

"Heavenly Father bless you, generous Lord!"

"Praise be to you!"

Only then did Hans, Prajna, and Fringilla slowly enter the estate.

"It has been too long, my dear brothers!"

With tears in his eyes, Hans threw his arms around Ryan and Moder.

"Y-yeah, it has been a long time."

The two were startled by Hans's enthusiasm.

"Brothers, find a few reliable men to carry the bags on the horses, then take good care of those poor big animals."

"They have suffered terribly along the way!"

Now that he no longer had to do manual labor, Hans felt as though he had been completely liberated.

At that moment, Lothar called out:

"Moder, continue the training. Ryan, come with me. I need to know what has been happening at the estate lately."

"My lord, please come with me first."

Ryan led Lothar to the storeroom and pointed at the neatly displayed weapons and equipment. "There are one hundred iron spearheads here, sixty leather-covered round shields and kite shields, a number of armor plates for repairing armor, and more than ten hammers and one-handed war hammers."

"There are also three bows and two crossbows."

Pope Innocent III had once issued an edict banning bows and crossbows, strictly forbidding their use against Christian brothers, but hardly any feudal lord took it seriously.

Banning bows, crossbows, and every other ranged weapon was no different from crippling oneself.

Besides, this was Jerusalem. The ones Lothar would use bows and crossbows against were the "evil" heathens.

"Good work. Having bows and crossbows is enough; there is no need to devote too much effort to them. For now, the priority is training armored men-at-arms."

Lothar had no plans to form light infantry units on a large scale, because light infantry was only somewhat more effective at inflicting casualties on unarmored troops.

Against fully equipped knights and armored men-at-arms, they were little more than a scratch.

Nor did he intend to establish mounted archer units.

First, they were difficult to train. Unless they were nomads, mastering mounted archery—even shooting from a halted horse—required a great deal of training.

Furthermore, mounted archery in this era was practically useless. Mounted bows had far less range than infantry bows and could hardly penetrate iron armor.

The Tatar cavalry was powerful because of its advanced organizational structure and the tremendous mobility gained from centering its forces around cavalry, not because of its horse archers.

A considerable portion of the Tatar cavalry consisted of heavily armored horsemen, and their troops had a far higher rate of armor than most armies of this era, including the Crusaders.

One could not conclude, merely because Crusader Cavalry had been defeated by Tatar cavalry, Tatar cavalry had in turn been defeated by Mamluk cavalry, and Mamluk cavalry had once been defeated by Crusader knights, that Crusader Cavalry was inferior to Tatar cavalry, which was inferior to the Mamluks, which were inferior to Crusader Cavalry—a laughable cycle.

To use an imperfect analogy, Crusader Cavalry was like a Tiger tank, while Tatar cavalry was like a T-34. Each had its own strengths and weaknesses.

But in the context of this era, Crusader knights—loosely organized, enamored with individual heroism, and rigid in their tactics—had absolutely no chance of defeating the Tatar cavalry.

His raid on Kawkab's castle had brought him considerable wealth. If he was going to build a force, it had to be the king of this era: heavy cavalry.

As for where to find recruits, he was still considering it.

After leaving the storeroom, Lothar followed Ryan to observe the armored men-at-arms' training and could not help nodding to himself.

Unlike Ryan and Moder, who held them to high standards, Lothar knew that recruiting and training such a force in barely half a month was already quite impressive.

Moreover, many of these men-at-arms had seen blood.

The road of pilgrimage was fraught with danger. Those who reached the Holy Land alive needed both luck and ability.

Thus, this force of armored men-at-arms already possessed the beginnings of combat strength.

After another month or so of training, they should be ready for the battlefield.

Lothar patted Moder on the shoulder. "The two of you have done well during this time. Once training is over, buy some seeds and farming tools. Also see whether there are any blacksmiths and carpenters. The estate's smithy and carpentry workshop cannot be left abandoned like this."

"Is there someone assigned to care for the stables? These delicate animals must be attended to carefully. If any fall ill, isolate them at once."

The eight Arabian warhorses they had brought back were all top-quality specimens, worth at least three hundred gold coins combined.

Lothar was still talking when a burst of urgent hoofbeats sounded outside the estate.

A Royal Knight of Jerusalem in a red-and-white surcoat stopped at the estate gate and said urgently, "Knight Lothar, Your Majesty summons you. You are to enter the palace at once for an audience."

Lothar hurriedly replied, "Understood. Please allow me to change my clothes first."

The knight shook his head. "No need. Once you arrive at the palace, attendants will see to your bath and change of clothes."