A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

"That detestable stepmother of mine has far too much influence over my father, that old man."

"You pity your half-brother’s plight?" Mikhail looked at Eric.

"I just find it interesting, that’s all. Perhaps God truly has other plans for him." Eric shook his head.

"Yes, God truly does have other plans for him. Just like your cousins who traveled to Constantinople to seek aid from Alexios. Your half-brother Bohemond, after leaving the front lines in Epirus and returning to Apulia, almost immediately traveled to Rome for an audience with the Pope.

He took up the Cross, knelt before the papal throne, and pledged his allegiance, swearing to become the Pope’s vassal and fight for the Lord of Heaven. Before long, he’ll either be stirring up war in the East or back in Apulia."

"As long as the old man is still around, he has almost no chance of taking Apulia." Eric shook his head. "By the way, what about my sister?"

Eric had promised Helia that he would ask about his sister Olympia’s circumstances in Constantinople.

As far as Giscard was concerned, her death in Constantinople would be the best possible outcome. It would give him the perfect, ironclad excuse to attack the Greek Empire.

She would be in a truly pitiful state if Eric were to ignore her.

"Her betrothal will continue until Prince Constantine comes of age. Alexios will name Prince Constantine as Co-Emperor at the triumph next month."

"As I recall, he’s not even four years old, is he?"

"That’s right. He has a long way to go before he comes of age," Mikhail nodded.

"I fear Alexios won’t allow him a smooth path to adulthood," Eric said.

"His magnanimity is merely a facade, a means to an end. For now, he has no son of his own, and Prince Constantine is just a toddler, posing no threat to him.

Bestowing the title of Co-Emperor is an effortless gesture. He loses nothing by it, and it allows him to show that he is not just the Lord of War, but also a lord of mercy. It makes his current hold on the throne seem completely reasonable and legitimate.

This situation won’t last long. Once his own son is born, he will spare no effort to eradicate the remnants of the previous dynasty—even the Dukas, who are at the zenith of their power now," Mikhail said with conviction.

"You make it sound as if you specifically stationed yourself there today, fiddling with that basket, just waiting for me to take the bait," Eric said with a smile.

Of course, it was just an absurd joke.

Unless Mikhail had spies all over the Empire—and if he could manage that, he wouldn’t have been forced into a monastery in the first place.

"Have no doubt. Before you revealed yourself, I had no idea who you were. I just assumed you were a Norman with some education.

I wish I had that kind of power. I could have prevented so many things... I could have taught my students properly... I could have kept my promises. Then the man standing before you now wouldn’t be some little old man from a monastery.

Sometimes I feel it’s my just deserts. I wonder if all this is my fault."

Mikhail let out a sigh. Then, feeling he’d said too much, he stroked his beard and changed the topic:

"My mind is always raising questions to which I have no answers. Deep in my heart, I often feel a solitary hunger for knowledge. I want to know the thoughts of the wise, to know what people believe in lands far from here.

I want to open the dark and empty pathways of my mind, to let new light shine in and fill the void with thought.

Where can one fill the mind? Ports, cities—no places are more suitable. I loved to travel in my youth. I’ve been to Rome and the lands of the Franks. I even lived for a time in Andalusia. The Heretics govern it well, no less so than Christians.

In my life, I’ve been to many cities. Cities by the sea are usually much better than those inland. I love the sea. The sea connects the land and the people of all nations, giving everyone the chance to go to places far more vast than where they were born.

This is also what makes Constantinople great. No other place has such a variety of people—Christians and Heretics, people from the same nation and from different ones, merchants and travelers, freemen and slaves.

I disguise myself as one of them. A basket seller today, perhaps a wool merchant tomorrow, a minstrel the day after that, or even a ragged beggar from a foreign land... I try my best to explore every possibility.

I become a listener or a questioner, hearing visitors tell stories from all corners of the world—stories happy and sad, fortunate and unfortunate, true and false...

I debate with them, guiding them to think for themselves.

These experiences bring me far more to think about, far more inspiration, than the simple life in the monastery ever could.

I believe this is what keeps my mind sharp and wise, even at sixty years of age."

"Perhaps I should call you Diogenes?" Eric said, teasing him again with a smile.

"Hmm..." Mikhail stroked his chin, feigning a thoughtful expression, then raised a finger and said earnestly, "I would be much happier if you called me ’Socrates’."

"That’s hardly a blessing."

Eric was reminded of the death of Socrates.

"This is hardly the age of the city-states, where life is dictated by a *dominus*. I’m not afraid of the mob—no... I *am* one of Constantinople’s mob." Mikhail shrugged. "But to return to the matter at hand, would you consider working with me? I can smooth the way for you in Constantinople. There are not a few who oppose Alexios."

"What do you need?" Eric asked.

"An army, when necessary, of course. Words don’t kill. Only a soldier’s sword does."

"You’re planning to have Michael..."

"No. Michael has already proven to the Empire that he is unfit to be Emperor, but his son Constantine still has a chance."

"He’s only four, and you are sixty."

With the Greek Empire facing threats both internal and external, almost no one would be foolish enough to recognize a child as Emperor.

"Yes, but I intend to create an opportunity. Alexios will not tolerate Constantine forever. A son will be born to Alexios sooner or later, and Constantine will inevitably be removed. The Co-Emperor is typically seen as the Emperor’s successor, and Alexios will never forsake his own son for another’s."

"I’m unlikely to be able to help you militarily within the next five years. I have my own affairs to attend to. And don’t expect me to directly confront the Empire while at a disadvantage."

Eric couldn’t just abandon the Eastern Expedition to involve himself in a plot with a less than ten percent chance of success.

However, Eric didn’t plan to refuse Mikhail, either. This connection might be useful later on.

Anything could happen in the Greek Empire. Prince Constantine might just have a chance to be put on the throne.

"It won’t be that soon. We both need to wait. Wait until Constantine comes of age.

I hope God grants me a long enough life, but if He is not so gracious, then when the time comes, I ask that you find a way to take Constantine away.

Anywhere is fine, whether it’s Apulia or England. Just get him away from this Empire. This is a cursed place. Perhaps it has been cursed ever since the city-states collapsed.

The history since that time has been filled with countless rebellions, uprisings, and betrayals. Today, things are escalating, becoming even worse than the depraved age described by Tacitus.

(Tacitus: A 1st-century Roman senator and historian whose works chronicled the early history of the Roman Empire. He was a staunch opponent of the Principate system and a nostalgist who extolled the simple virtues and rustic life of the Germanic peoples, believing them to possess the traditional virtues the Romans had lost.)

Time has not corrected these past errors. Instead, it has allowed them to become precedents, legally imitated again and again.

The people here are fragile yet touchy, proud yet insecure, foolish yet they think themselves wise. They regard deceit as a virtue and greed as a sign of intelligence. Their faith is superficially devout but hollow and false within. They have lost themselves in ceremony and debate, straying far from God’s truth.

The invasion of the Seljuk Turks was only the beginning. The decay of this Empire is but a manifestation of God’s will. God has withdrawn His favor from these fallen souls and delivered them to the swords of the Heretics.

The rotten foundations of this Empire can no longer support its former glory. Its fate is like a candle in the wind, awaiting only God’s final judgment."