The sea breeze gently caressed the ocean.
In the distance, through the faint mist, one could vaguely see the coastal port city with its numerous buildings.
A merchant ship with a rounded hull and square sails was sailing across the Adriatic Sea.
This was a Kirk Ship.
Brought from Northern Europe by the Normans of Sicily, this type of ship quickly adapted to the Mediterranean climate and was widely used for merchant shipping.
A poor monk, dressed in white linen and clutching a wooden cross, was preaching to the crew and passengers gathered around him.
"Jerusalem, the jewel existing between heaven and earth, is a magnificent city of the earth and a city of unmatched glory in heaven."
"Jerusalem, a sacred place, now surrounded by the ambitious heretics. The Ayyubid and the Sassanian, these two giants, are detestable and despicable devils."
"They destroy God's churches, light their so-called 'sacred fire' in the center of the temple, desecrate the holy Heavenly Father, and kill, plunder, and sell our fellow Christians everywhere."
"Pilgrims on their way to Asia Minor are attacked by their Turkic cavalry, suffering inhuman torture, or are imprisoned or killed."
"They intend to burn the Holy Sepulchre of the Savior with flames and seize our Earthly Heaven, Jerusalem. This is something neither Catholic nor Orthodox Christians can tolerate."
"With the weapons in our hands, let us destroy the heretics, go to the 'land flowing with milk and honey' recorded in the Bible, to atone for your sins, and you shall receive eternal glory in heaven!"
The people shouted, "This is the will of the Heavenly Father!"
"Amen!"
Losa, wrapped in a dark red cloak, stood among the crowd, flanked by Hans, Laine, and Model, praying with a devout expression on his face.
He was never a Catholic, nor had he ever worshipped any deity.
But he thought, since this was a world endowed with extraordinary power, perhaps the so-called "Heavenly Father" really existed.
Since that's the case, it wouldn't hurt to believe a little.
As long as it didn't interfere with his affairs, he would always remain "devout."
If one day, when he was strong enough, he would not shy away from asking the classic question like Emperor Joseph: "The Pope? How many divisions does he have?"
Of course, His Holiness the Pope, of this era, indeed has many "divisions"!
The Pope State occupies the vast direct territories of the Central Apennine Peninsula, with other major bishoprics theoretically under the Pope's jurisdiction as well.
Unless necessary, even if he becomes stronger, he would prefer not to break with His Holiness the Pope.
The group had boarded the ship this afternoon.
They had risen early this morning to travel from a northern town in Veneto to the southern port to board the ship.
Now, they had set off just two hours ago, and the castles of Romagna could still be seen from the coast.
The monk suddenly pointed to Losa in the crowd and said, "Losa von Habsburg — this is a brave knight from Swabia, who, regardless of the blasphemous King Henry's obstruction, resolutely embarked on the path to protect the Holy Land. It is devotion to the Heavenly Father and His Holiness the Pope that urges him to act so. May the Heavenly Father bless you, honorable knight!"
Since the Pope excommunicated Emperor Henry, many priests also did not believe the "crown" crowned by His Holiness the Pope was still effective.
So they called him King Henry.
The passengers also looked at Losa with reverence.
"Praise to you, honorable knight."
The monk invited, smiling broadly, "Knight Losa, please say a few words to everyone; they need your encouragement."
Losa's expression was somewhat stiff.
Compared to the poor Crusaders on the Kirk Ship, who were more like refugees than an army, the passengers on this merchant ship were wealthier, including town artisans and city merchants.
They shared the same goal as Losa, heading to the Holy Land to respond to His Holiness the Pope's call for the Eastern Expedition.
Losa did not want to deceive them with words against his conscience.
Yet the enthusiastic cheers of the people made it truly hard for him to refuse.
After pondering for a long time, he slowly spoke: "This is a great cause, for the Heavenly Father, to prevent the Holy Land from being tainted by heretics, even if slain in battle, one's soul will ascend to heaven."
"Indeed, the dead will ascend to heaven, and the living will gain honor."
The monk continued his fervent sermon.
And as a "devout" Crusader Knight, Losa had no reason not to listen to the sermon, especially since this monk was so keen to commend him, to make him famous.
Look at those vassals, their eyes at this moment full of loyalty and awe as they gazed at Losa.
In an era when faith was so deeply integrated into people's lives, even if it was a disguise, Losa had to pretend to be a devout believer.
...
Two hooded women sat in the cabin.
One was tall, the other petite.
They sat facing each other, neither acknowledging the other.
Furinjira restrained herself for a long time before finally saying, "So boring, big oaf, why does the Lord have to listen to that old man rambling on?"
Prajna lifted her eyes slightly, staring at Furinjira without emotion.
She kept staring until Furinjira felt a chill, then continued to sit cross-legged on the wooden bed, thinking about something.
"Hey, Prajna, are you a robot? Don't you ever feel bored?"
Furinjira swung her small legs up and down: "You truly are a woman with no sense of fun. If one day you end up with the Lord, he'll definitely be driven crazy."
Prajna frowned, and her face finally showed a slight emotional shift: "What nonsense are you talking about?"
"Ha, you answered me?"
Furinjira looked triumphant: "I knew it, you do have thoughts about the Lord! You scheming woman."
"But let me tell you, you and the Lord are impossible."
"Though you have a large chest, big hips, a narrow waist, your skin is delicate, and your looks are beautiful..."
Furinjira counted off her fingers, suddenly stunned: "Wow, you do have a lot of good qualities? Damn, maybe there really is a chance!"
Prajna's lips pressed together, her face still expressionless as she coldly said, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Furinjira flashed a smile: "The grievances between the Blood Royal Court and you are their business and have nothing to do with me. As the Lord said, we will be comrades-in-arms in the future, brothers in arms who need to cover each other. I don't want to have a falling-out with you."
Prajna frowned: "To me, business is business, personal is personal; no matter how much I dislike you, I won't hold back in battle."
"So you don't need to worry, nor do you need to deliberately try to please me."
Furinjira's mouth twitched into a sly smile: "Prajna, you definitely have feelings for the Lord. If you really have thoughts, going on like this won't work."
"Heh, do you think by saying that, I'll act coy like an ordinary young girl?"
Prajna said expressionlessly: "My feelings for the Lord are simply those of a comrade and a subject, nothing like the 'thoughts' you mentioned."
"Really? I don't believe you!"
Furinjira teased.
"Whether you believe it or not is irrelevant to me."
Prajna closed her eyes, no longer speaking at all.
Furinjira, on the other hand, was as smug as a fox that had just stolen a chicken, displaying a sly smile.
If Prajna really didn't care at all, she wouldn't have responded to her at all.
But then she also felt a bit of urgency.
The Lord should be mine, cannot let this woman from the Ghost Race get ahead.
"""