April 20, 1174, the holy city, the summit of Mount Mori.
Ilam, the supreme commander of the Mamluk cavalry, gripped his riding whip in frustration as he watched the holy city's people carrying crosses and heading towards the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at the foot of the mountain.
"Prepare the horses! I'm going to see the Caliph!"
Mounting the fine horse brought by his men, Ilam cracked his whip and galloped toward the Al-Aqsa Mosque in the eastern part of the holy city.
When Ilam stormed into the Al-Aqsa Mosque, Saladin, the emperor of the Ayyubid Empire, was standing in the square watching craftsmen remove the cross from the top of the mosque.
"The Great Saladin!"
Elem's loud voice attracted everyone's attention. Saladin turned his head and looked at his trusted general, his brows furrowing slightly: "Didn't I tell you to arrange the release of slaves? What are you doing here?"
Just as I was about to speak, I saw a man in black beside Saladin, glared at him, and sneered, "How dare an evil heretic set foot in the holy land of Allah?!"
The man with his entire body shrouded in a black robe smiled slightly, tucked his hands in, and stood back a little.
Saladin said to Ilam with annoyance, "You should thank him! Without his help, you and your Kasaj guards might have suffered a devastating blow when facing Payez!"
Ilam gritted his teeth and did not refute further, but asked, "Caliph, there is something I don't understand about your actions regarding the release of slaves."
"explain."
"You did agree with those people not to enslave the residents, but on the condition that they pay a sufficient ransom. Now that the ransom hasn't been received, someone is telling me that you've ordered the release of all the residents?"
"That's right, I gave the order."
Elam's forehead veins bulged: "Do you know that those residents who were ordered to be released had no idea of gratitude whatsoever? In the blink of an eye, they gathered at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, holding up crosses."
"I know, this is something I tacitly approved."
Ilam looked at his monarch in astonishment and stammered, "Those people are infidels! They are wicked people who commit blasphemy at the feet of God! They deserve severe punishment, how can you condone their worship of infidels?!"
Saladin looked at Ilam and shook his head helplessly, saying, "If it's according to your idea, then this is how it should be done?"
"All residents who cannot pay the ransom shall become slaves of the Empire! Demolish all Christian churches and altars in the city! Only the voices praising God shall exist in the Holy City; the voices of other religions shall be utterly silenced!"
Upon hearing Elem's so-called "idea," Saladin rubbed his temples in exasperation: "Think before you speak or act! Think clearly about the current situation and where we are! If you can't figure it out yourself, go ask strategist Zaratahan! Don't test my patience with these stupid ideas!"
Watching Ilam's angry departure, Saladin turned his gaze to the crosses the craftsmen had dismantled, and remained silent.
"The Holy City is an extremely sensitive location. It is the birthplace of the three major Abrahamic religions, and each sect regards the city as a holy site according to its own religious legends. Therefore, any action should be taken with caution."
The voice from behind made Saladin turn around in surprise.
Looking at the pale, bloodless young man, Saladin smiled and asked, "Throat Bone, if you were in his shoes, how would you handle the situation in the Holy City?"
He toyed with a gleaming dagger between his fingers, and said thoughtfully, "Right now, stabilizing the morale of the people in the city is the most important task."
"And then what?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps we can gradually reduce the influence of other sects?"
Saladin smiled noncommittally and changed the subject: "Young man, you and your army helped the Empire land successfully and made great contributions in blocking King Payez's offensive. Tell me, what reward do you want?"
"Saladin, before I ask for the reward, I have a question."
"question?"
"Do you intend to wage war against the North in the future?"
Saladin frowned at the question: "Why are you asking this?"
"If you are content with the status quo and have no ambition, then I will turn around and leave..."
But what if I give you a positive answer?
The man with the throat bone laughed and said, "Then the reward I want is to serve under you."
Saladin looked at Adam's apple with some surprise: "Your request is really interesting? What's the reason?"
Throat Bone's eyes gradually turned cold: "Let me put it this way, I have an irreconcilable feud with some people in the North."
Saladin stared at the other man for a long time, then finally patted him on the shoulder and laughed loudly, saying, "I can promise you here that one day I will march into the north and let the crescent flag of the Empire fly over every corner... but not now..."
Throat Bone asked with some disappointment, "Not now?"
Saladin did not answer the question, but instead looked at a warhorse galloping towards the gate. The messenger on horseback held up a flaming letter and looked panicked.
Saladin straightened his clothes and said calmly, "Before facing north, I must first remove the thorns from my back, one by one!"
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On the same day, at Soul Space, a bar on Entertainment Street.
Todd, Cumberland, and Emerson sat at the bar, slowly sipping their drinks.
Emerson gazed at the iridescent layers of liquid in his glass and exclaimed, "It's truly unimaginable that drinks could be prepared like this in another world. What's the name of this drink...?"
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