Chapter 56: Statue of an Archangel - Medieval Gacha Lord - NovelsTime

Medieval Gacha Lord

Chapter 56: Statue of an Archangel

Author: BoredIdler
updatedAt: 2025-07-14

CHAPTER 56: STATUE OF AN ARCHANGEL

Chapter 56: Statue of an Archangel

As Castellan Leonard stammered through his account, the sequence of what had transpired gradually became clear.

The desert bandits Leonard spoke of were a long-established gang of misfits, predominantly Zoroastrian, who had been entrenched in the Jordan Desert, running rampant for many long years.

Relying on their swift movements and familiarity with the desert’s water sources and oases, they frequently raided villages when the border patrols were absent, extorting large amounts of wealth, livestock, and grain from the already hard-pressed and poor villagers.

Occasionally, they would also plunder the few passing merchants or poorly defended noble manors. Even Count Raynald and his forces at Kerak Castle were powerless against them.

Leonard had been particularly unlucky. This morning, he had set out with five sergeants, intending to go to a prosperous village under the jurisdiction of Montreal to purchase warhorses. There was a large horse market there. (It’s not that Montreal ;⁠)

The behind-the-scenes owner of the horse market was Count Raynald’s wife, Countess Stephanie, an "Iron Rose, a knight in a skirt."

Count Raynald would occasionally sell horses captured from Ayyubid merchant caravans or defeated Bedouin tribes there.

They had been ambushed by this band of robbers shortly after entering Montreal’s territory.

Lothar’s brow tightened, his expression stern. "Leonard, are you the only one who returned? How many men did we lose?"

Leonard immediately fell to his knees, his face a mask of woe. "Milord, we suffered no losses! When they learned we were sergeants under your command, they robbed us of the coins and left."

Lothar paused. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or not. Pleased that no one had died. Displeased because, well in this era, human life was simply not worth much.

Lothar said thoughtfully, "Montreal is also Count Raynald’s territory, isn’t it? Did they have nothing to say about this robbery occurring in the lands of the great Count of Oultrejordain?"

Count Raynald was undoubtedly a powerful and influential noble in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but Lothar had had little contact with him.

Ever since Baron Godfrey had pushed Lothar onto the Kingdom’s political stage, he had been deeply branded as part of the King’s Party, a younger follower rallying to Baron Godfrey’s banner. At least, that’s how everyone else saw it.

Leonard quickly said, "Milord, I paid my respects to Count Raynald’s wife, Countess Stephanie. She was once the sole owner of these lands; Count Raynald only obtained his comital title through his marriage with her."

Lothar tapped the table, his expression unchanging. "Get to the point! I hardly need you to explain to me how Raynald, that former Duke of Antioch, was driven from his ducal seat and then rose again through marriage."

Leonard said with trepidation, "Countess Stephanie did not grant me an audience, but one of her knights told me that a new army would be organized soon to encircle and suppress these bandits, and that I should return and await news."

"Await news?" Lothar sneered.

As a neighbor, this Countess Stephanie of Oultrejordain, by rights, should have made some social overtures to him, whether a visit or an invitation to a banquet.

But he had already been in Jorgklusburg for four days, and no such invitation had yet arrived. Either she simply looked down on him, or Raynald harbored some hostility towards him.

Lothar felt the latter was more likely; after all, Balian had defeated Guy, and relations between the King’s Party and the Queen Mother’s Party had deteriorated sharply, with him clearly siding with the King’s Party.

"I don’t have the patience the to wait like this."

Lothar secretly calculated: this band of desert bandits had roamed these deserts for so many years; the wealth they had accumulated must be a considerable sum. If he could find their lair, his fief’s current state of income not covering expenditure would surely be alleviated.

Furthermore, the issue of warhorses also urgently needed to be resolved, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to train Winged Hussars even if he had the money.

Lothar intended to train at least twenty Winged Hussars in the short term to form a fighting force of significant scale.

However, to encircle and suppress these bandits, the current number of cavalrymen in his fief was still too small. He had only trained three new Winged Hussars; including Hans and himself, that made only five.

To rely on these five to find the desert bandits, who moved like the wind in the vast desert, and successfully defeat them was simply a fool’s dream. If these bandits were so easy to deal with, Count Raynald, that powerful noble, wouldn’t have been so helpless against them.

"Leonard, do you think these desert bandits might have colluded with my subjects? Or, at the very least, that some of them have joined their ranks?" Lothar suspected a mole.

Leonard looked terrified. "Heavenly Father above, I guarantee that neither I nor my lads have any collusion with these bandits! Those bandits are all shameful infidels! If we dared to collude with them to plot against your wealth, Milord, we would surely go to the fires of hell and be tormented by demons for all eternity!"

Lothar shook his head. "I’m not talking about you; I’m talking about the subjects! In those six villages, especially the one where half the population are infidels, it’s very possible someone has colluded with these bandits."

Leonard let out a long sigh of relief. "Yes, Milord, I also think they are problematic! These damned fellows, not only do they not thank Milord for his magnanimous grace, but they repay kindness with enmity! They simply deserve to die!"

Lothar sneered. "Don’t you think it’s precisely because they were grateful for my magnanimity that the bandits refrained from taking your lives? Otherwise, that bandit gang dares to offend even Count Raynald; why would they not dare to offend me, a mere Baron of Jorgklusburg?"

Just then, a notification sound chimed in Lothar’s mind.

[You have completed the milestone: Model Fief (Your fief possesses at least two thousand acres of land and over two hundred people above the subsistence line).]

[You have activated the advanced milestone: Model Territory (Your territory possesses at least one thousand people above the subsistence line, and over two hundred wealthy individuals.)]

[You have received a 3-star special item: "Statue of an Archangel."]

[Statue of an Archangel: When you place this item within your territory, the loyalty of all residents within your territory towards you will receive a small boost, and their goodwill towards your enemies will receive a small reduction.]

Lothar pondered for a moment and understood that this was likely because he had stopped levying heavy taxes on the Zoroastrians, which had improved the living standards of these infidels under his rule, eventually reaching the count of 200 people above the subsistence line.

As for the two thousand acres of land... here, the one thing not lacking was this desert of sand and gravel. Although Jorgklusburg only had six villages, the land it encompassed was probably equivalent to some counties in Western Europe.

"It seems the current situation in Jorgklusburg is still quite bad. Less than a fifth of the people actually have enough to eat." Lothar frowned.

Subsistence was the basic condition for human survival.

Lothar’s fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop. "Further tax cuts are impossible. We still need to open up new sources of revenue. On the other hand, this band of desert bandits who frequently extort my subjects also urgently needs to be dealt with."

Lothar thought for a moment and quickly settled on an idea. Since these desert bandits who moved like the wind were hard to catch, he would lay a trap and wait for them.

He looked at Leonard, who was still kneeling on the ground, and said gravely, "Leonard, you lost the wealth I entrusted to you for purchasing warhorses. How will you atone for your crime?"

Leonard, trembling, said with a sob, "I am at Milord’s disposal. I only beg that you mercifully pardon my sins after death and allow this devout believer to ascend to Heaven."

Lothar stood up, looking down at him. "Do you know what disappoints me most? You didn’t dare to fight; you watched as the valuables I entrusted to you were lost. Such a crime, I cannot forgive."

Leonard choked out, "Milord, there were too many of them! We couldn’t possibly be their match! I guarantee, we are no betraying, we were just..."

"Alright, Leonard. I will give you a chance to redeem yourself through meritorious service. Whether you live or not will depend on whether you can grasp it."

In truth, Lothar knew, was this really Leonard’s fault? Not entirely. No one wanted to encounter bandits. If they fought head-on, his entire party would have been wiped out, and the money would still have been lost.

But clear rewards and punishments were essential qualities for a lord. Lothar absolutely could not just raise the matter high and then let it drop gently.

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