People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 19
"Heavenly Father, I hope this damn weather won't change at will."

Model, who followed the hoofprints and ruts of the livestock all the way, looked at the gradually gloomy sky, and made a sign of the cross in front of him.

Don't expect a group of ragtag bandits to have a strong sense of anti-tracking. They never thought of covering their tracks.

After all, the knight to which this village belonged was either killed or fled.

If he was fleeing, it would be impossible for him to borrow enough strength from the lord he was loyal to in a short period of time to make a comeback.

It would be even better if he died in battle.

So they don't panic at all.

When it was getting dark.

On the distant mountain tops, we could finally see a little bit of faint fire.

Ryan, who was acting as a scout, watched for a long time, and replied: "Three clusters of bonfires, about thirty people, it should be the gang of robbers."

Lothar ordered: "Everyone, prepare your armor."

When they were on their way, Lothar and Hans did not wear armor, and most of their equipment was stored on the pack horses.

Because whether it is him or Hans' chain armor, the armor rings are very dense, high-end products with complicated weaving techniques, and the weight is twice that of sergeant Ryan and Model's chain armor shirts.

If it weren't for the lack of cash, he and Hans shouldn't even ride on a war horse, but on a pack horse to save horsepower.

War horses are fine animals, unlike well-cooked draft horses, not only can't ride for a long time, but they usually have to be fed fine feed, which is sometimes better than humans.

Such efforts are worthwhile, because on the battlefield, the life of a knight is closely related to the physical strength of the mount.

"My lord, do you want to stick floating nails?"

"No need, you don't have to be so cautious when dealing with a group of thieves."

Lothar shook his head. It wasn't that he underestimated the enemy, but that knights in skirmishes, for these unarmored and civilian bandits, were simply a blow to reduce dimensionality.

In this era when common people generally do not have enough to eat.

Even if you fall into the grass and become a bandit, you still can't get enough to eat.

Their combat effectiveness is stronger than the serf levies that the lords forcibly pulled from the farmland, but they are limited.

Medieval infantry, except for a few special cases such as mercenaries and longbowmen, is not worth mentioning.

The strongest combat unit among infantry is often the foot knight who has lost his mount.

The front is a hilly area, and charging on horseback is not safe.

So close.

Lothar asked Model to stay and take care of the horses. He, Hans, and Ryan with the crossbow surrounded him from the woods on both sides.

The chain armor did not affect his flexibility of movement. Even if the whole set of armor, including the chain armor leggings and arm guards, did not exceed 25 kilograms, it was not too heavy for him.

The robbers gathered around the bonfire, and the firelight illuminated their oily and excited faces, and their beards, which had not been groomed for a long time, were covered with stains and faintly visible fleas.

The captives who were bound beside the carriage were full of despair and numbness.

Especially female relatives, they will inevitably be squeezed during the escort.

One can imagine the fate that awaits these robbers after they have had their fill of wine and food.

The robbers were happily toasting at this time, and the bad wine snatched from the village was dripping down their beards.

The poultry roasting on the fire exudes a tempting aroma, and someone squats next to the boiling broth in the crock, waiting eagerly.

"This time is really a bumper harvest. Ander's stupid knight actually took his attendants to Lienz to participate in the tournament. If I were the knight master, I would definitely be nestled in the manor every day, eating meat and fucking women hard."

"That's right, what kind of honor is a bullshit knight, how can there be beautiful women and delicacies?"

Someone eagerly tore off a piece of meat, chewed it, and asked vaguely: "Boss, this time each of us should be able to get thirty... oh no, maybe fifty dinars?"

The bandit leader turned cold, and snorted, "The premise is that these slaves should be brought to the southern market to sell, otherwise I will give you fifteen silver coins at most."

The robbers looked at each other.

The looting they carried out with one hand also had a general impression of the amount of spoils they got this time.

According to the share ratio they agreed upon, if it falls into the hands of individuals, it will not be possible to only have fifteen dinars.

In fact, if it is fifteen large silver coins of good quality, it will be fine.

But they knew that with the character of the bandit leader, they would probably only be given "black coins" or those small, pitiful little silver coins!
Some people are dissatisfied:

"Boss, this doesn't conform to the rules we swore in the name of the Heavenly Father, right?"

The bandit leader blushed and said triumphantly: "You were the first to break the rules. Don't think I don't know that you have hidden the loot. Don't worry, fifteen silver coins are enough for you to be chic for a long time. Besides, here There are still many girls for you to enjoy."

"Think about it, if you want to have sex with those prostitutes Liuying in the city of Veneto, why don't you get three big sons?"

"The girls here are all girls from good families, and they are still allowed to be manipulated by you. Before you sell them, you can live the same life as the lords. What is there to be dissatisfied with?"

The robbers subconsciously looked at the women who were tied to the carriage, their faces paled.

Being able to drink, eat meat and play with women seems to be a pretty good deal.

But right now.

A cry sounded like a shocking earth-shattering cry.

"You villains, you have committed an unforgivable sin. Only the Father can forgive you, and I am responsible for sending you to the Father!"

"At that time, He will decide whether you will sink into the lake of fire and brimstone in hell for 100 years or 1000 years."

Follow the sound.

In the darkness, a man in the iron mask standing tall was holding a two-handed sword, looking down at them like an angel.

The one-word window that only existed on the top of the helmet seemed to come from the door of hell, and fear swept everyone's heart in an instant.

A tall woman in a black cloak stood beside the man in the iron mask. The ghost relief on the ghost mask seemed to come alive, showing a cold, greedy smile.

"Ride...Master Knight?"

Someone yelled in horror.

Most of these robbers were runaway slaves under the lord, and their fear of knights was simply carved into their bones.

"Don't panic, there are only two of them, let me hack them to death, whoever kills him, all the armor on his body will belong to you, and I will give him another hundred small silver coins!"

The bandit leader shouted to stabilize the morale of the army.

But at this moment, another cry sounded from the woods behind him: "In the name of the Father, Teutonic Knights, charge!"

Under the terrifying horned helmet, Hans in a white burqa, like a white god of death, jumped out of the woods, brandishing a two-handed sword, and charged into the unsuspecting robbers like a tiger descending a mountain.

Accompanied by him rushing out, there was also a sharp crossbow covered by the night.

The crossbow accurately hit the bandit leader's neck, and he fell to the ground clutching his neck, blood spurting out.

Ryan hid in the dense forest, and had already locked on a few conspicuous targets standing by the campfire.

Those wearing chain mail shirts, leather armor, or cotton armor must be the leaders of this group of robbers. As long as these people are killed, the gang of robbers will collapse immediately.

The bandit leader didn't know how to dodge, so he stood still and gave orders. Of course, Ryan solved it immediately.

As the best of the hundred sergeants under Earl Werner, Ryan is not just a servant who only feeds horses and serves people.

Soon, the shouting and killing stopped.

The robbers were almost wiped out, leaving only three softies who surrendered early, kneeling on the ground and begging for mercy.

The young men and women tied behind the carriage looked at the tall knight in horror, not knowing what fate would meet them.

Don't think how chivalrous the knights of this era can be.

There are many executioners who openly lead teams to plunder villages, rob passing caravans, set up cards to extort tolls, and even take pleasure in killing people.

"You are free."

Lothar raised his sword and cut off the ropes that bound them: "I am a friend of Earl Lienz, you don't have to worry that I will sell you into slaves."

"Take back what belongs to you from those robbers, and return to rebuild your homeland."

(End of this chapter)