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King of Great Britain

The history of medieval England is tumultuous and grand, from the Norman Conquest to the Magna Carta, with modern civilization gradually taking root on England's green pastures. Jeff, a modern-day office worker, is well-versed in the history of various countries around the world, yet has no practical use for his knowledge. Until one day, he is transported to medieval England and becomes a prince. Just as he is about to make his mark and realize his ambitions, he is stunned by someone calling out, "John." John... King John, the "Lackland"! He has actually transmigrated into one of the most infamous kings in medieval history!

DaoistYcPpz3 · Sejarah
Peringkat tidak cukup
97 Chs

Chapter 89: Showing Strength

Before long, John welcomed another visitor. However, this guest took him by surprise.

"Forger?" John was indeed surprised when he saw him. "Does His Majesty have another order to pass down?"

Forger nodded. "His Majesty hopes that you can support the battle in Rouen."

The battle in Rouen?

John knew that the King of France, Philip, along with his army and some various French nobles, was besieging Rouen. But was the situation really so urgent that it required John's support?

"Forger, tell me, what's the current situation in Rouen?" John leaned forward slightly. "I remember His Majesty left troops there, didn't he?"

"Yes, but the troops there are not enough to repel the enemy. His Majesty doesn't want to see his territory divided," Forger explained eloquently.

Indeed, from Henry II's perspective, he certainly didn't want his territory divided. John didn't want that either. If he saw his territory cut in half by the enemy, he would be extremely anxious. But the question was, why should John send troops?

Selfishly speaking, John was not the sole heir to the throne, so he might as well consider himself a large landowner. After all, John was heavily in debt. The nobles who had lent John money were waiting for him to distribute land and wealth, and John couldn't ignore them, otherwise, his credit would collapse.

So, he planned to demand a piece of land from Henry II as compensation for sending troops.

"I don't have extra troops at hand right now, and I owe a lot of money. Many nobles are waiting for me to repay them," John spread his hands. "It's not just His Majesty who is tight on resources, I am too. I can't spare any extra money or troops."

John didn't give Forger a chance to speak and continued talking.

"Go and inform His Majesty that if he is willing to enfeoff Somerset and Dorset to me and grant me the title of Duke of Somerset, I will set out immediately."

In this way, John was just like "Lion" Heinrich, seizing the opportunity to make a fortune when his liege was in trouble.

Forger looked troubled. "Your Highness, it's best not to..."

Jacques stepped forward and said to Forger, "As a diplomat, you don't know how to be flexible at all. How can you get things done? If I were you, I'd return to Anjou immediately to report this to His Majesty."

"He's right, Forger," Guillaume said leisurely. "You should learn how to handle such matters."

Obviously, Jacques was relying on the power behind him.

Guillaume crossed his legs and looked at Forger. The two had once been equals, but now Guillaume was the Baron of Talamore. A thick barrier now separated them.

Forger looked at the arrogant Guillaume but could do nothing. Despite feeling a bit of annoyance and some anger, he couldn't express it. He had to bow his head and say, "I will report everything truthfully to His Majesty."

This remark was a slight threat, but it had no effect on John. The most Henry II could do was reprimand him a bit; he wouldn't dismiss him outright. Relying on this, John didn't bother with Forger anymore and instead watched him leave.

After Forger left, John turned to Jacques and said, "You performed very well just now, Jacques."

Jacques gave an embarrassed smile, scratched his head, and said nothing. Guillaume also smiled.

These two guys were full of cunning.

"Pierre must be tired now. He should be back soon," John said, looking at Pierre in the distance.

Pierre had just defeated another opponent, completing a ten-man streak. He raised both hands high, holding his long sword, as if showing off his strength to the Irish nobles in the stands.

This unintentional act was seen as pure English intimidation by the Irish nobles.

"This guy is too fierce."

"No wonder Rodri couldn't beat him..."

"Don't talk nonsense, we are loyal now."

These whispered comments from the Irish nobles didn't reach John's ears, but he could still imagine what they were saying.

Isabella looked at John, her eyes filled with confusion. Perhaps she still didn't understand why John demanded loyalty from his vassals but wasn't loyal to his own liege. Maybe it was too early for a fourteen-year-old to grasp such matters.

In the tournament grounds, with Pierre's departure, the one-on-one duels were over. Next up was the team competition. The knights were divided into two teams to fight each other until one side was completely defeated.

As a large number of knights took the field, donning red and blue surcoats, the eyes of the Irish nobles lit up.

The reputation of Norman knights was well-known in Ireland. These fierce and battle-hardened knights had easily defeated all the Irish cavalry, causing the nobles to view them with awe and fear. But now, they had the rare opportunity to witness a duel between Norman knights.

"Hey, isn't that Hugh de Les from Count Patrick's domain?"

"It seems so. Why is he participating?"

Representing the blue team, Les stepped forward, his tall and burly figure immediately drawing everyone's attention. Many Leinster Irish nobles recognized him and even felt a sense of unease. This man, now appearing friendly, showed no mercy on the battlefield.

The leader of the red team also stepped forward, but he lacked Les's popularity. Knowing his own reputation couldn't compare to Les's, he didn't risk embarrassing himself. After a brief greeting, he returned to his team.

"The red team has already lost some momentum," John remarked. "I think, for knights, the most important thing is that sharp fighting spirit."

The surrounding knights agreed with John's statement.

As the horn sounded, the knights of both the red and blue teams formed their ranks, preparing to charge at each other. They wielded dulled lances, which could still deliver a significant impact. The host ordered his aides to wave colorful flags, and the trumpeter blew a short, sharp, and powerful call.

The horn's stirring sound directed the audience's attention to the knights. They began to spur their horses slowly, then gradually increased their speed until the horses were galloping at full tilt.

"Aren't these knights afraid of being trampled to death by the enemy?"

"Why don't they dodge at all?"

"They must be crazy. This is just a tournament."

If the Norman knights overheard the discussions of the Irish nobles, they would likely burst into laughter.

True Normans knew no fear, especially when charging on horseback. Facing the opposing wall of knights, they remained motionless, holding their lances steady, aiming at the enemies ahead, and charging towards them.

The moment of collision produced a sound that filled the Irish nobles with dread. Lances splintered, wood chips flew, and horses neighed loudly. Many knights were thrown from their horses, but the knights behind them were undeterred, continuing to charge forward relentlessly.

Seeing the fear in the eyes of the Irish nobles filled John with pride. The purpose of hosting this event was not only to secure the loyalty of these nobles but also to showcase his strength, demonstrating who the true uncrowned king of Ireland was.

And this tournament had been a great success.