People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 815: Going to the East to Make Contributions

Chapter 815: Going to the East to Make Contributions

The Mesopotamian Plain, located in the Tigris and Euphrates River Basin, is the core area of ​​the entire Fertile Crescent. Since the Sassanid Empire replaced the Parthian Empire, it has become the center of its rule.

Over the years, it merged with the Assyrians, Saracens, Greeks, and Babylonians to create an extremely developed and prosperous civilization.

Baron Fulk and Ivan were escorting a large delegation of envoys to the Sassanid capital of Ctesiphon, with 5,000 elite soldiers "carefully selected" by Saladin.

Not long ago, they had just passed through Baghdad and rested there for a whole week before they were summoned by the Sassanid king to go to Ctesiphon, which was not far away.

Along the way, we were dazzled by the prosperous oriental scenery, as if a group of country bumpkins had entered the capital.

Baron Fulk was quite emotional: "The beauty of Baghdad is simply the only one I have ever seen in my life. Aleppo and Alexandria are far inferior to it. I am afraid that the legendary Constantinople is also like this."

“It’s only slightly better than Cairo.”

Ivan chuckled, his expression somewhat complicated: "You still have the mind to pay attention to these."

"The old man Togurt was meeting with guests in Baghdad, jumping up and down, trying his best to encourage all Zoroastrians to unite and fight against the Franks. I'm afraid this is not what the Sassanid king wants to see."

"But I heard that the Sassanid king is a man of rules. No matter how dissatisfied we are with him, we will not violate morality and attack him. The envoys will leave sooner or later. We are the only ones who will stay in Elanshahr and fight a bloody battle with the Tatars. By then, I am afraid we will become the target of the Sassanid king's venting of anger."

Fulk smiled helplessly: "At this point, we have no choice. Among these five thousand 'elites', I don't know how many eyes are staring at you and me."

Ivan's expression was slightly cold, and he chuckled, "The priest in my hometown once said that even ants have the will to survive. I don't believe that these five thousand soldiers who were thrown out as abandoned pawns are willing to be pushed to a foreign battlefield as consumables. Fulk, my confidants have been detained by Saladin. Now, you are the only person I can trust, but the question now is, are you willing to believe me?"

He held out a hand.

Fulk understood and bumped fists with him. "It's just death. But...what do you want me to believe in you?"

Ivan couldn't help but laugh and said, "Do you believe that I can win the hearts of these five thousand soldiers and make them the backbone of you and me, and build a great cause of our own in Elanshahr?"

"Ok."

Fulk shrugged. "To be honest, I don't believe it, but I'll help you."

He felt that Ivan's lofty ambitions were too unreliable. What could he accomplish with just 5,000 conscripts? It would be good enough if he could survive.

Ivan cursed him as a "killer of fun" and then analyzed the situation seriously:

"I heard that the Tatars from the east are extremely fierce. They have changed the weakness of the nomadic steppes in attacking cities and lacking iron tools and armor. They have already conquered the capital of the Kara Khitan Kingdom and forced the Khitan Khan Yelu Zhilugu to submit to the Sassanid king in exchange for support.

As a result, the Sassanid king sent 20,000 Persian troops to support them, but they were easily slaughtered by the Tatars. They cut off their heads and built a tower of human heads. Even the Cumans were not as barbaric and cruel as them. "

The land in the Mesopotamian Valley is fertile and the cities are developed. Many silks and porcelains that are famous in Europe are actually produced here. Although they are not as exquisite as those from the East, they have also given rise to quite developed industry and commerce, with a constant flow of merchants coming and going, and the news is also very developed.

As he traveled, he listened to the legends from the East and realized that the Tatars were by no means comparable to the nomadic people like the Cumans as he had originally thought.

Fulk nodded and said, "The Tatars are fierce, with armored heavy cavalry, long-range light cavalry, and armored infantry provided by various vassal states. With the 5,000 'elites' Saladin gave us, who don't even have a helmet for each person, if we really go to the battlefield, I'm afraid we will be defeated by the Tatars in one round and have to cut off our heads to build a tower."

Ivan said seriously, "That's right. If we follow Saladin's arrangement, we will be doomed. We need time to train them, equip them, and turn these remnants into an elite force."

Fulk frowned and said, "But this will cost a lot of money."

Ivan sneered and looked at the envoys at the side: "I know a place with plenty of money, and the Sassanid king would definitely be happy to see these old guys who bribed his subjects everywhere suddenly fall ill and die suddenly."

In the far east, the newly emerged nomadic king is sharpening his sword and preparing to march westward.

And in Egypt, the Crusader King who was about to capture the city of Cairo was about to wear his own golden crown and turn his sights to the north, the fertile land of the east, just like a two-headed eagle, advancing in two directions.

Under the city of Cairo.

The three-headed dragon Ladon landed on the ground, panting heavily.

He lowered his head meekly and let the knight on his back "climb the stairs" and land on the back of Eclipse who was waiting below. The horse glared at Ladon unwillingly, feeling angry but not daring to vent it.

Ever since the appearance of this three-headed dragon, this hellish divine horse, no matter how majestic it was, had lost its competitiveness and could only become a secondary means of transportation.

Lothar rode on the Eclipse and watched the battle for a while, then returned to the tent to rest. There was no suspense in this battle. After experiencing such a powerful opponent as the British Expeditionary Force in the world of battleships yesterday, he felt a little unmotivated to face these small-time chickens and wolves again.

At this time in Cairo, castles and towers were all on fire.

Siege towers, siege ladders, and battering rams were approaching the city wall.

As a siege ladder was placed on the city wall, the hook was embedded in the gap between the bricks. Several soldiers defending the city held a push rod and smashed the ladder. Seeing that the ladder was about to be pushed away, Veneto took the lead and jumped onto the top of the city wall.

He grabbed a soldier guarding the city and threw him like a weapon, knocking several defenders around him back. Several heavily armored Varangian guards followed behind him and soon gained a foothold on the city wall.

The battle went exceptionally smoothly.

Judging from the situation, the city of Cairo, which has complete defensive facilities and a garrison of 50,000, will be breached in less than a day since the Crusaders set up camp on the outskirts of Cairo this morning.

"Master Russell, please take action!"

The spellcaster called Russell secretly groaned in his heart under the protection of a group of guards. He had no idea that the Franks were so terrifying. He wanted to escape, but when he saw the shining magic-blocking golden blades in the hands of the guards around him who were nominally protecting him but actually monitoring him, he gave up the idea.

"Flame, summon!"

He chanted incantations, trying to gain the power of the ancient god Set.

A moment later, a huge fireball was condensed by him. The defending soldiers who saw this scene immediately cheered. They didn't know how powerful this fireball spell was. They only knew that they also had a spellcaster who could compete with the enemy, so they felt reassured.

Master Russell secretly felt lucky, as his prayers to the ancient gods had rarely been so effective recently. He was about to throw a fireball at the Franks fighting on the city wall when he felt a gust of wind coming towards him.

The next moment, his head fell to the ground.

The fireball condensed above his head exploded with a bang, and the Saracen soldiers who were still cheering were engulfed by the raging flames before they could react to what was happening.

Standing on the tower, Cherylina slowly sheathed the sword, glanced at the place indifferently, then flew away with the wind and glided into the city of Cairo.

Her target was clear: it was Saladin's half-brother, Buri, the governor of the Faiyum province.