Chapter 6: Belief and Purpose
Late at night, Lothar lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
Tomorrow, after they restock supplies at the manor—provisions, water, feed for three packhorses and a warhorse—they will set out again.
Their route will take them eastward, following the line of the Alps, through the Austrian frontier territories, and finally to Venice, where they will board a ship.
Crossing the Alps to reach Italy only seems like the shorter path.
In reality, the mountains are filled with sheer cliffs and treacherous terrain. Even the lower-altitude paths pose the risk of slipping into deep ravines with a single misstep.
Otherwise, Hannibal and Caesar's crossings of the Alps would not have been hailed as miracles in military history.
"Rest is vital for a warrior," a flat, emotionless voice suddenly spoke.
It was Banu.
She sat in the adjoining room, on a felt bed covered with a thin blanket, her eyes closed, seemingly meditating.
The night breeze blew from her direction, turning into a cool, gentle wind. She was like a living air conditioner.
"Banu, I'm feeling a bit lost," Lothar said.
"I want to talk with you. After all, you're the one person in this world I trust most."
Though her demeanor was cold, Banu—summoned by the system and designed by him personally—was, without question, the person closest to him. Even his brother Otto in this world couldn't compare.
At first, there was no reply from the living room. After a long pause, a crisp female voice finally answered.
"Go ahead."
So cold… Lothar smiled.
"In my previous life, I was just an ordinary person—really ordinary. Back in school, I wasn't the top of the class, but not the worst either. I followed the rules, though I could be mischievous at times. I liked singing, dancing, basketball, video games…"
"But whether it was academics or hobbies, I was mediocre at everything. Like most people, I was just another cog in society, indistinguishable from the rest. There is a term for it—consumables. I think that describes me perfectly. If I disappeared, the world wouldn't change at all. A new cog could replace me at any moment."
"As for coming to this world… to be honest, I didn't resist it too much. Even though here, a king's life may not be much better than mine back then."
"Because I've longed for a new life—something not so mundane. One filled with excitement and surprises."
"I need land, a title—something to empower me. To get that, I'll need to earn merit and wealth through the lance and sword."
"But I also know very clearly—the Crusaders are not righteous. Traveling across thousands of miles to seize others' lives and lands in the name of faith—isn't that just robbery?"
"If I were a native of this world, maybe I'd think it was normal. But I'm not. I know I'm different."
"The system has given me a mission—to build a territory. But I don't have a personal goal. I'm like a drifting boat at sea, following the lighthouse without knowing what lies at the end of its beam."
"I have no belief, no conviction, no clear goal. I don't even know what this is all for. Am I just dancing to the system's tune?"
Lothar's voice was earnest.
"If you don't have a belief," Banu said after a brief pause, "then find one."
"What do you think of this world? Is it beautiful?"
Lothar shook his head.
"Of course not. The level of productivity is terribly backward. Even counts, princes, archbishops, kings, emperors—they all live lives barely better than mine. As for the common folk? If they're stuck with a stingy lord or priest, they suffer unimaginably."
"Do you want to change that?" Banu countered.
Lothar nodded.
"Of course."
"Then make that your goal. Let your loyal subjects live in peace and prosperity. Feed the hungry. End the wars. Unite the lands soaked in chaos, and stop people from killing each other over laughable differences in faith."
Her cool, steady voice lacked passion, but to Lothar, it was like a lantern glowing in his darkness.
He turned his head to look at her.
Seeing that he hadn't spoken for a while, Banu frowned slightly.
"What is it?"
"That was beautifully said, Banu." Lothar exclaimed.
"Yes, that's something I'd willingly do. Something that feels truly meaningful."
"Then do it."
The room returned to silence.
After a while, Lothar spoke again.
"Thank you, Banu."
"Mm."
"Good night."
Banu said nothing more.
A clear system notification chimed in his mind.
[Banu's affection level has increased. Current level: Indifferent.]
Still indifferent?
Lothar smiled faintly. Indifferent was fine. At least she wasn't completely unapproachable. Even if she didn't treat him warmly, she was still someone he could trust.
He turned over and fell into a deep sleep.
In another corner of the manor…
Ryan and Moder sat beneath the eaves, engaged in a heated debate about Banu's identity. Lothar hadn't explained anything to them.
In truth, he hadn't yet figured out what story to tell.
And besides, he wasn't obligated to explain.
The two were Lothar's squires. Technically speaking, a squire and a servant didn't differ much on the surface. Both served others. The difference lay in essence.
"That long, sleek black hair—could she be a princess from the Eastern Empire?"
"No, no. Didn't you feel that aura around her? It's terrifying. She may look like just a woman, but the danger she exudes… she's scarier than a mountain lion."
Moder said with conviction,
"She's a witch!"
"You sure?"
Moder hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
"Not sure. But she's definitely not an ordinary person. You know how reliable my instincts are."
Ryan nodded in agreement.
"Never thought our young lord would know a witch… I heard the entire Crusader army of France only hired two witch advisors."
"Does that mean our journey will be a lot safer?"
"Maybe. Or the exact opposite." A trace of worry crossed Moder's face.
"Witches are mysterious, powerful, and beautiful… but also dangerous, fearsome, and awe-inspiring."
"I just can't imagine why she's following the young lord. No offense, but he doesn't seem worthy of a witch's allegiance."
"Hey, you're overthinking it. Maybe it's love? Witches falling in love with handsome knights—it's a classic. And the young lord is the most handsome knight I've ever seen."
"In any case, it's not our place to worry about that. We're squires. And not even formal ones. He is our lord. We don't have the right to question his decisions."
Moder fell silent for a long moment, then nodded.
"You're right, Ryan. From today on, we'll stop calling him 'young lord.' He is now our lord. Even the count can't command us anymore. We follow only him."
Ryan patted Moder on the shoulder.
"Don't underestimate him. He may be younger than us, but he's smarter too. He'll lead us down the right path." He paused, then added, "Even if he's wrong—could we have done any better?"
Moder chuckled.
"Maybe. I just hope I'm overthinking it."
The two squires were just as uncertain.
They didn't know what future awaited them at Lothar's side. Would they one day be knighted? Or perish of disease before ever reaching the Holy Land?
No one knew.
"May the Father bless His faithful servants. Amen."