Chapter 280: Farewell, Damascus
But no matter how tall and majestic it was, it was still just a siege tower, not a devil summoned by the heathens, but a strange sense of urgency wrapped tightly around the elder’s heart like a venomous snake, he felt danger. Even if he didn’t know where this danger came from.
He did not hesitate, gave his students one last glance, then leaped up, jumping onto a crossbow mounted on the city wall, focusing intently on observing the staggering colossal object moving forward.
At this point, the distance between the siege tower and the city wall was close enough for both sides’ archers to shoot at each other—the height of this siege tower allowed the archers on top to suppress the Saracen archers from above—the elder could see the thick iron hooks used to hang the plank, and the heavy cowhide covering it, a thought suddenly came to his mind.
He spread his arms like a falcon with broad wings, leaping straight down from the city wall.
The elder’s black robe unfurled in the wind, the Crusaders’ archers immediately shot arrows at him, but it didn’t hinder his actions at all, he didn’t land directly on the top of the siege tower, but on about the third level—if he had been like a falcon before, now he was like an agile monkey, he quickly climbed upward, nimbly dodging the spears thrusting out from the gaps.
By the time the black-clad Saracen reached the top of the tower, those archers hadn’t even reacted, the elder then grabbed one and threw him down, then he drew his scimitar—he noticed that the Christians facing him showed little fear in their eyes, even though they were just ordinary soldiers, not those blessed knights.
He looked intently and found them covered in a layer of silver glow that was not very noticeable in the dawn—”The Shield of the Holy City is here…” He stepped back two steps and said in the Christians’ language, then he saw the soldiers show surprised expressions, as if a beast had spoken, but the question he wanted to confirm had been answered.
Knights with the power of protection were not few, but only one was willing and able to envelop these ordinary soldiers under the prophet’s revelation—at least as far as he knew, only one—the young knight who had once been spared by Saladin.
A smile appeared on the elder’s solemn face, some soldiers had realized their mistake. He roared and pounced, but it was too late, the elder swung his scimitar, not at them, but at the wooden board underfoot, with a clatter, he fell from the top of the tower to the fifth level.
His guess was correct.
Golden light flickered in the tower, it was a cross-shaped reliquary box containing fragments of the True Cross, it had almost become the pillar of this level—and under the True Cross, almost all around the King of Ayyarasa Road were young elites from the Crusaders.
But the most striking among them was not the king in gilded armor, but the young knight who seemed immersed in holy light.
In the final battle, the Shield of the Holy City could not possibly leave the King of Ayyarasa Road’s side to support other generals—especially since this king had decided to lead the charge personally.
The elder lunged at Baldwin, but Caesar was like an insurmountable mountain, a vast sea, or more like some decree from God, as long as he was in front of Baldwin, no one could pass him to harm Baldwin.
“Caesar…” the elder murmured softly, his wrist flipped—he no longer made futile attempts on Baldwin, but turned to the others, the revelation he received was so powerful, with one slash, a knight’s chainmail shattered, the wound deep to the bone—but without Caesar’s protection, he should have been cut in half.
David shouted and rushed up, his strength like a Leviathan or Behemoth（ from the Bible）, beasts in the mortal world, and taking this opportunity, the other knights pulled this tragic sacrifice back to the True Cross, the priest hurriedly treated him.
The elder showed no hesitation, since he couldn’t temporarily break through the barrier set up by the knights—he swung back with one slash, chopping at the siege tower!
When making the siege tower, the craftsmen were not stingy with their skills and materials. Besides wood, they also used a lot of black iron, but unless it was built of stone, don’t expect it to withstand such destruction.
And the elder’s attack had already given those scholars enough hints, some among them who prided themselves on their abilities even began imitating the elder, leaping from the city wall onto this magnificent man-made object.
Besides these people, some scholars used the crossbows on the city wall to shoot huge burning arrows at the siege tower, the Saracens had also been studying Greek fire, and like Caesar, they created flames that might not be as powerful as Greek fire, but could stick to various substances and burn, thick smoke rolled in the siege tower, the flames inside could be extinguished, but the flames outside were not so easy to deal with.
The knights coughed nonstop, “David! Go push the siege tower!” Baldwin called, while engaging the elder.
David waved his arm, and immediately several knights as strong as him followed, quickly descending along the ropes to the bottom of the siege tower, although the siege tower was pulled by sturdy bulls through a pulley system, there were still soldiers and craftsmen at the base—they needed to protect and repair the wheels.
As soon as David landed, he unhesitatingly pushed them aside, steadily grasping the thick wooden beam spanning between the wheels, and those following him were almost all knights renowned for their strength, their power no less than that of bulls.
Under their combined effort, the siege tower began to shake, followed by an obviously accelerating speed, the elder’s expression changed. Flames, crossbow bolts, and the Saracen scholars could not shake this extremely dangerous siege engine.
But before he made up his mind, Caesar and Baldwin had tacitly adjusted their stance—as when they welcomed the Byzantine Princess Princess Maria into the city, they had faced a raging she-bear in such a stance—unfortunately, the elder had not witnessed it personally.
And he was among the Christians, the dangerous warning never disappeared, which also caused him to lose his due vigilance, dazzling white light lit up in his vision, and quickly covered everything he could see, he loudly called the prophet’s name, but it was too late, Saint George’s Spear struck him, piercing from his front chest straight through to his back.
A thunderbolt pierced him and the wall behind him, the black-clad elder fell out from the huge gap, the scholars on the city wall and siege tower, their students, and soldiers saw it, all shouting loudly, grief, shock, and anger instantly swept over everyone.
“Kill those Christians!” they shouted loudly, even soldiers who had not received revelation sought opportunities to climb the siege tower, but it was unnecessary, the siege tower suddenly loomed larger before their eyes, crashing straight into the city wall.
Due to its massive size and unstoppable speed, the entire tower tilted toward the city wall, fortunately the craftsmen had considered this possibility when building it, it rocked violently back and forth for a while, but did not collapse or topple because of it, though even if it did, it didn’t matter, its mission was complete.
The plank was lowered, scholars immediately rushed up, trying to destroy it or flip it over—but what the elder could do, Baldwin and Caesar could also do, Baldwin leaped out, and in mid-air, Saint George’s Spear had already swept across those scholars’ bodies, instantly piercing and tearing them, blood rain scattered, they didn’t even have time to utter a cry.
And what was more dangerous than Saint George’s Spear was only Caesar’s solid shield and armor, they were composed of twinkling stars or scales, without fixed shape, those under his protection seemed covered in a layer of splendid jeweled outer garment.
But whether soldiers or scholars, they all felt like facing a shield wall formed by a hundred people, anyone encountering it would fall, break bones, or plummet, no one could contend with it.
A scholar cursed in rage, “This power shouldn’t belong to a Christian!” He gripped his scimitar tightly, even though the blade was already twisted.
At this time, the soldiers around the plank had been cleared, David shouldered the True Cross（ along with that huge reliquary box） and rushed out, the gilded cross reliquary box shone brilliantly in the sunlight, this seemed like some signal, whether scholars who received the prophet’s revelation, warriors, or soldiers, they all swarmed here, from above, you could even see that section of white city wall turn black in the blink of an eye, Baldwin and the knights behind him were like a drop of mercury in ink, but just as mercury wouldn’t be polluted by ink, this point of bright light was not swallowed by the surging black tide.
On the contrary, it kept expanding forward, merging with other “mercury drops”—with them in front, Crusader knights continuously surged from the siege tower toward the city wall, and similar scenes were happening at the other three gates of Damascus.
The King of Ayyarasa Road attracted most of the enemies, so places like Raymond and the Knights Templar encountered much less resistance.
The Saracens here couldn’t see the situation at other city gates, they also knew that leaving would inevitably cause chaos and loss there, but just like Shawwar had done before, their attention was all on that young king—as long as they could kill him, as long as they could kill him! As long as they could kill the Commander of the Crusaders and the King of Ayyarasa Road, under leaderless conditions, the Crusaders might not be able to hold the city.
This way, even if they died, other Saracens would come here, and for the defenders, they originally bore heavier psychological pressure than the attackers, under conditions of lack of provisions and internal strife, they would ultimately be forced to withdraw from Damascus, even if they looted all the property and people, so what? As long as it was Damascus, a gem covered in dust would eventually shine again one day.
Holding such thoughts, they didn’t spare their own lives at all, anyone else would be scared out of their wits by such a scene, but as long as Caesar was by his side, Baldwin feared nothing, “In the name of God!” he shouted loudly, to those resolute enemies—he decided to show respect, may they all ascend to heaven and enjoy eternal life with their Allah and prophet.
At this moment, a sudden and ridiculous thought crossed Baldwin’s mind—the priests all said these heathens—even if they were admirable warriors—would only go to hell, and suffer endless torment in the lake of fire until the end times without relief.
But he also knew, in the Saracens’ mouths, these Crusaders would also go to hell, no matter how pious, how brave, how humble, without exception.
If this was true, wouldn’t they all be in hell, or all ascend to heaven? Thinking of that scene, he didn’t find it sacred, but rather somewhat amusing.
This thought lingered in his mind only for an instant, he, Caesar, and those loyal knights had pierced into the enemy’s heart like the tip of a dagger—the surging tide was forced apart.
Baldwin’s enemies had changed from ahead to ahead and both sides, if continuing forward, he would even be surrounded by Saracens, Caesar called back two knights who had lost their heads in the melee—his protection ultimately had a distance limit.
Not to mention, most of his attention now was on Baldwin, if caught in the melee with those Saracens, he might not see if the barriers on them had broken, if the armor had reached its limit, of course he couldn’t re-protect them.
Those who could follow Baldwin were either heavy minister heirs like David, or the newest favored by him and Baldwin, losing even one would pain him and Baldwin, but in such melee, losses were inevitable, he could only do his best.
And the pressure he bore was the greatest among all, enemies seemed to come from all directions.
“Caesar!” Baldwin shouted, he suddenly retreated, and Caesar, with whom he was heart-to-heart and had cooperated countless times, immediately understood the meaning of the call—Baldwin thrust Saint George’s Spear forward with all his might, instantly clearing a blood-soaked white space around him.
And Caesar, who was originally at his side or behind, suddenly appeared in front of the enemies, before those Saracens numb from killing, a spiky shield wall suddenly rose, rapidly assaulting them, some inexperienced scholars and students even instinctively retreated, nothing else, the power Caesar manifested was too much like spear tips thrusting from the shield gaps.
In fact, these materialized shield walls were more terrifying than spears, anyone meeting them was like colliding with a battering ram speeding toward them, they fell backward, crashing into others like stone projectiles.
“No!” a survivor cried out in panic.
Caesar merely calmly pressed the overflowing power toward the walkways and stairways swarming with Saracens, and in such crowded, shoulder-to-shoulder conditions, as soon as one fell, it would trigger a terrible chain reaction, that was trampling.
Except for a few scholars who immediately thrust their scimitars into the ground or walls to steady themselves, most warriors and soldiers could only helplessly topple backward, human instinct doomed them to desperately grab nearby things, those who could barely balance were pulled down too.
And at this time, Caesar had leaped high, the strength God granted him like rolling angry waves lifted the people ahead and smashed them down heavily, this was no longer human strength, not even devil’s strength.
