A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

However, the Emperor Alexios before him had shed the magnificent Purple Robe that symbolized imperial power, opting instead for a simple linen robe. Its color was muted and soft, completely devoid of any lavish decoration.

While the cut of the garment was still elegant, the fabric and style were extremely plain, with only simple stitching of fine thread decorating the cuffs and collar.

Coupled with his average height and unremarkable features, he looked like an ordinary young citizen of Constantinople, completely unrecognizable.

"You seem rather eager. I thought you would be later, as our reception for you all today was admittedly discourteous. I would have understood if you had ignored my invitation as a show of complaint and protest."

Alexios was a little surprised that Eric had arrived so quickly.

He waved at Eric, motioning for him to sit in the chair to his right. "I’m waiting for my meal; I was planning to have my dinner here. You’ve come at a good time. The food has yet to be served, so we can dine together."

"If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have invited only me," Eric said as he sat down.

"And yet, you still chose to come alone. I imagine my private invitation wasn’t such a bad thing for you." Alexios paused, looking at Eric with a smile. "Perhaps you’re even thankful for it."

"To my colleagues, this could be seen as a provocation. I’m not the only one who should be thankful for this. Don’t you think, Your Majesty the Emperor?"

"To be honest, my opinion of the Normans isn’t so bad. Although we have always been enemies, compared to the other obstinately foolish Franks and Teutons, you are a much more welcome sight.

In truth, it doesn’t matter if it’s a provocation. The Franks and Teutons would feel provoked by the slightest disturbance. Their childish minds haven’t matured much, even after a thousand years. They may have converted to Christ, abandoned their absurd heresies, learned to pronounce Latin with the utmost elegance, and pretentiously recited the poetry of Virgil,

but ultimately, it is all just a clumsy imitation of the Romans. In essence, they are no less idiotic than their ancestors who lived in the forests.

When a noble is robbed by a thief in a city under his own jurisdiction, he can usually remain rational. He will merely despise the vile character of that individual thief. If he is kind-hearted, he might even feel a flicker of pity, believing the thief must have suffered some unbearable hardship that drove the poor soul to such desperation.

However, should that same noble be robbed while traveling in a foreign city—one belonging to a people he has always detested—he will instinctively blame the entire city, and everyone in that nation.

He will believe they are innately evil, as if they were born to delight in cheating and swindling; as if they were thieves, bandits, and murderers from the moment they fell from their mothers’ wombs.

But what country is without thieves? He simply had the bad luck of encountering one.

It’s utterly absurd, positively laughable. Don’t you think, Count Eric?"

"I can only agree with your point in part. I agree that a victim should only blame their aggressor and has no right to accuse completely unrelated people, even if they belong to the same community or ethnic group as the perpetrator.

But I don’t believe rational debate can solve such problems, because not everyone is capable of remaining rational at all times.

Nor do I believe the Greeks—or the Romans, for that matter—are blameless. The Greeks and Romans must also take responsibility for their long-standing contempt for the Teutons and the Franks.

Few peoples would calmly accept a condescending outsider exposing their flaws and shortcomings. It’s nearly impossible, at least in this day and age.

The Romans and Greeks could have remained on their high horse, so long as they kept their distance from the Teutons and Franks—or wiped them out completely. Instead, they’ve found themselves in their current predicament: asking for aid from the very Teutons and Franks they’ve always considered barbarians."

Eric looked at Alexios. "Your Majesty the Emperor, do you consider yourself devout?"

"I don’t deny it," Alexios said with a smile, his answer subtle.

Eric continued, "If a man prides himself on his Devotion, then to discuss such matters is laughable. For in the eyes of Christ, there are no Franks, no Teutons, and no Greeks.

As Paul said: Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ.

For we were all baptized by one Holy Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Greeks, slave or free—and we were all given the one Holy Spirit to drink."

"I am striving for that as well," Alexios said with a nod. "This Empire does not belong to the Greeks alone, but also to the Armenians, the Bulgarians, the Jews... to the many peoples who still reside within its borders."

"And your ’striving’ on that front is to relocate the Armenians to the Balkans, and the Greeks and Bulgarians to Anatolia, in order to sever the ties within their communities and prevent them from launching rebellions.