In the Middle Ages, people drew cards to be promoted to nobility.

Alandele.

Along the oasis, there are scattered manors and villages.

Herdsmen drive their sheep over the hillside.

The blue sky is cloudless.

What a quiet and peaceful scene.

Old Hassan was squatting on a mountain col, next to a camel that was grazing. There was a gurgling stream flowing through the ravine below. The stream was crystal clear. He took a handful with his hand and drank it all in one gulp on this hot day. It is simply a supreme enjoyment.

As a water guard, he has the responsibility to look after this creek so that those stupid herdsmen don't drive their sheep here to drink water.

This is a drinking water canal!

Since the tribe migrated here, the life of the tribe has become much better.

At least it can fill my stomach.

As long as he works, he can fill his stomach and even save some money to buy wine.

Every year, a large number of tribesmen lose their lives in vain because of competition for water sources and pastures.

For a nomadic tribe, what seemed such a luxury in the past?

He turned back and looked at the end of the blue sky, where the oak tree could vaguely see its crown.

This is a branch of the Tree of Life. It was originally just a small branch. Only a few months later, it has become a giant tree that can be hugged by ten people. Hassan, who once led his tribe across the entire Arabian Desert, has some thoughts on this. A deep shock.

“Praise the Father, under whose shade even the desert springs up.”

Old Hassan crossed himself.

In the distance, a young rider riding a dromedary came galloping towards him. He jumped off the camel's back skillfully and handed old Hassan a piece of yellowish paper stamped with a double-headed eagle.

Sheikh (Clan Chief), King Saladin is about to fight the Crusaders. The mobilization order has been sent to us, requiring us to provide ten light riders who are equipped with their own mounts and are good at riding and shooting.

that's it?

Old Hassan was a little surprised.

In previous years, when I was under the command of Raouf the Impaler, in the event of a war, at least half of the entire tribe's hundreds of adult men would have to be withdrawn, and additional livestock would have to be turned in to make feathers for arrows and leather for shields.

that's it!

The young rider's face did not look sad because of the impending war, but instead there was a sense of eagerness to try.

Old Hassan couldn't help but laugh and said: Thanks to my foresight, it must be because I led everyone to convert to Christianity and showed sincerity that I won such treatment for our Sayoo tribe.

The young rider teased: Haha, Sheikh, what kind of conversion do you think you are? There is a holy fire flag hidden in the woodshed.

You bastard, I'm not afraid of that one day.

Old Hassan hesitated to speak.

Because his tribe was accustomed to a nomadic life, local officials allowed them to still live together as a tribe, but his power as a chief had been greatly diluted. There were tribunes who specifically governed them.

He is considered the superior of his part-time water guard.

But he is actually a civilian official.

The Kurds are unable to put down their whips and pick up their hoes, and because they are good at riding, they are often recruited by local officials to perform some auxiliary patrol tasks to guard against the Bedouin nomads who come and go like the wind.

Old Hassan, who had worked hard for the tribe for most of his life, was finally relieved of his burden. While he was relaxed, Old Hassan couldn't help but feel a little disappointed: What's written on it?

The young rider sneered and said: I don't know the characters on it. Even the Franks themselves, 99% of them don't know the Frank language. But the person who gave me this 'recruitment order' was the Ulm patrol officer.

He said, this is a contract - it stipulates the duties and obligations that those of us who are recruited accordingly should perform, oh yes, there are also powers, the Knight of Ulm said, if we perform meritorious deeds, we may even be Become a knight!

The young man's tanned face was full of excitement.

Old Hassan smiled and said: If Lord Ulm said it, there is no need to question it.

Ulm once helped old Hassan retrieve the clan's life-saving money. He was also the nobleman who helped the tribe settle here when he led them to migrate here.

They didn't even charge a penny during this process - this seemed so incredible in the eyes of old Hassan and even the entire tribe.

They don't know what chivalry is, nor what the Eight Virtues are, but even if they don't know its content, Ulm's image is still the most perfect image of a knight in the eyes of the Sayo tribe.

Dream.

Old Hassan became serious.

The young man who was rarely called by his name seemed a little embarrassed. He had been out and about, and felt that he could talk to all the knights. He was considered a figure. Even when he became more serious, he still felt like a rat. Fear of seeing a cat.

The battlefield is no child's play. It's completely different to deal with a few Bedouin bandits on the patrol road with you, or to have a group fight with someone after drinking too much.

Sheikh, I know.

Derem muttered: Those knight masters, as well as the regular troops under the lord, are all wearing strong armor. Even if they stand still, they will be fine by me. The only few sets of armor in our clan are all embroidered. It’s like a knot.”

But Sheikh.

Derem raised his head, with an extremely determined look on his face: I want to get ahead. The life here is what we dream of. If Shayobu wants to gain a foothold here, someone must get ahead.

Not everyone is as noble as the Knight of Ulm. I don't want to encounter a greedy official or lord who takes excessive demands one day sitting on our heads.

Old Hassan looked at the solemn look in the young man's eyes and spat: Don't act like me here, you bastard, aren't you just thinking about my armor?

Derem was stunned for a moment and said with a sneer: Did you see it?

Old Hassan snorted coldly: You, a little goat, dare to play tricks in front of the old jackal. Stay here with me until the end of this shift.

okay.

Derem readily agreed.

Shekh, did you promise me?

Bah, Moody and the others died on the way, otherwise how could it be your little brat's turn to worry about my armor?

Old Hassan was a little sad. He originally had a son, but on the way to escape from Rauf's territory, he was killed by the pursuers - both of them died. Even if Saladin was born as a Kurd, it would not affect these children. It's all because the lord doesn't treat these outsiders as human beings at all.

Derem said without hesitation: Dad, from today on, Shehe, you are my dad.

roll.

Old Hassan scolded: You bastard, go find your own father. Don't ask for relatives blindly. After guarding this post, come home with me to get your armor. Remember, you must bring it back intact to me.

Derem was stunned for a moment: Dad, how can your armor be compared with the Ulm Knight's? His armor will leave marks even if it is hit by a Bedouin bandit, but your armor... I'm afraid a few more blows will directly It will fall apart.”

Old Hassan was so angry that he puffed his beard and glared: Fart, I have saved so many lives with this armor, and you still dislike it. Damn it, I won't borrow it anymore.