Loser System and Berserker Me

Chapter 92: Gathering of the Crusade

Europe was shaken once again.

Unlike what had previously happened in the Balkans and Anatolia, the one who had been crushed this time around was the Holy Romain Empire! That was a powerful empire that could shake the whole Europe if it exerted its full strength.

Yet, its capital had collapsed just like that?

Its empress had died just like that?

“Scourge of God!”

“It really is the Scourge of God!”

The populace exclaimed in fright.

They could almost see a knight on white horse brandishing his sword at them, bringing death upon everyone.

Even royals and nobles trembled in fear as well, knowing that the Scourge of God was not one to discriminate. He wouldn’t spare them just because they had lofty backgrounds.

“Law, loyalty, order, devotion…” the French king, Charles, murmured as he rode his stallion down the streets of Eternal City Rome.

French kings had a tradition of quelling religion, but this was a crisis of a different level.

“…everything we know is disappearing.”

When he received an invitation from the Pope to come to Italy and join the Crusade, he couldn’t have imagined that this previously prosperous and beautiful land would be reduced to this state.

Madmen were running about.

Carefully tended homes had been abandoned.

The city felt desolate. Fear and despair was palpable in the air.

And this was all because everyone knew that the Scourge of God was coming.

After making quick work of the Holy Romain Empire, the Scourge of God turned his eyes to Italy. It felt like the end of the world was about to befall them.

“My Lord!” Charles drew a cross in front of him. “What have we done so wrong to anger you?”

Clack clack clack clack!

A huge procession suddenly marched onto the streets.

Charles gestured for his subordinates to step aside.

“I have sinned!”

“I have sinned!”

It was a procession of devout believers who had fasted for a week. Their legs were shackled with chains, and they carried heavy metal blocks on their shoulders. They struck one another’s backs with whips as they prayed for salvation amidst blood.

“Your Majesty, those are holy disciples seeking redemption,” Charles’ aide explained to him.

“Fasting cleanses a person’s spirit. Receiving pain washes away filth in the soul. They hope that their sacrifice can earn the Lord’s sympathy and mercy, so that the masses can be saved…”

Trailing behind the holy disciples were the bishops behind this procession. They hoisted up a huge cross rack and a colorful umbraculum, while shaking a copper bell and a censer. Chants could be heard from them as they walked.

“My Lord, please listen to our prayers. Please don’t turn away from our pleas.”

“My Lord, please listen to our prayers. Please don’t turn away from our cries of help.”

These bishops were followed by the local populace, who were stirred by the procession. They changed in tattered clothes, cloaked their faces with ashes, and tied nooses around their necks. They raised their holy artifacts up high and cried while praying…

Charles quietly shook his head.

Their prayers are futile. Rather than banking it on the Lord’s prayer, they might as well place their hopes with the 400,000-men army gathered in Italy.

After a year of rallying, more than half of Europe’s nations had thrown in their money and troops into the Crusade. Many knights, nobles, kings, officials, and mercenaries were now gathered in Italy.

Among them were English archers, French heavy cavalrymen, Holy Romain’s heavy infantry, mountainous spearmen, highland swordsmen…

All in all, over 400,000 soldiers were rallied from the Apennine Peninsula!

Of course, the quantity was one thing, but the quality awaited to be seen.

Charles had no idea how many of them were capable of fighting on the battlefield. He didn’t even know how many people he would have under his command, what their competencies were, and which of them would heed his orders.

“It’s about time to meet the Pope.”

After drinking the turbid holy water and taking two bites of the holy biscuit, Charles took off his extravagant robe to put on simple garments before stepping into the resplendent cathedral.

This was a place where esteemed kings and lofty nobles had to humbly listen to the Pope’s sermons. The Church was a formidable power in this era, with its influence spreading far and wide.

Some kings and nobles even had to lower their heads before it.

The religion’s influence didn’t necessarily equate to the Church’s influence. Similarly, the power the Church wielded didn’t necessarily translate to the Pope’s power.

In a way, the Pope was in a similar position as the emperor of a country. It was a lofty position, but how much power he wielded depended on how capable he was, and how many cardinals he could mobilize.

Incompetent Popes struggle to exert their influence on Rome.

Outstanding Popes could make Italy move at their word.

Powerful Popes could exert their will across half of Europe.

As for a Pope commanding the whole of Europe, that was a daydream, though it seemed like that daydream was going to be realized today.

Before the Pope’s soft voice, the thin veil of smoke, and that lingering bell tinkle, the kings, nobles, bishops, and knights fell into a trance-like state that left them with no doubts about the Pope’s words.

“Innocent lambs, you have to devote yourselves to serving our Lord to receive his most generous blessings. A valiant death on the battlefield will grant you a place in heaven. Your prayers will reach our Lord, and praises will be sung of you.

“All you have to do is believe, worship, and follow our Lord’s will…”

The sermon concluded.

Charles felt light-headed even as he walked out of the cathedral.

That light, drifting feeling… That must be the pleasure of heaven. Is this Pope truly a saint? I’ll have to fight hard to vanquish my enemies in the upcoming war, so that our Lord will favor me more.

Charles made up his mind.

“Hu!”

A tall woman stopped ringing the golden spherical bell in her hand and exhaled deeply.

Despite the spiked holy water, holy biscuit, holy smoke, and the enhancement of the holy artifact in her hand, it was still exhausting for her to exert her control on so many people at once.

“I can only control them at a superficial level,” the tall woman murmured while fiddling with the golden sphere. “These people basked in the holy favor for too short a time. I shouldn’t expect much from them.

It was an army of 400,000 on the surface, but she reckoned that less than 150,000 could be considered soldiers. As for how many elites they were among them… even the kings and the lords didn’t know, let alone her.

Not to mention these armies didn’t follow a common chain of command, faced language barriers, and there were many conflicts among them. It was dubious how useful they would be.

On the battlefield, a platoon of elite soldiers could probably do more than a battalion of ragtags.

“Even the Holy Romain Empire has been brought to its knees. It’d appear Scourge of God is somewhat competent. In the end, I’ll still have to rely on the Papal Army and the Holy Knights. Hmph! The Scourge of God, I’ll let you know that there can only be one conqueror in this world!”