[FDJ]Chapter 132: Strategic Layout

Several hours later, past midnight, the sound of the wind in the night seemed to carry the cawing of crows. After the fierce attack by Archer the previous day, Saladin's army had suffered significant casualties. Throughout the day, the severely injured soldiers were gradually making their way to the new world described in the scriptures.

Physicians were still trying to save lives, while Imams recited prayers and sprinkled a mixture of water and spices, substituting for the elaborate washing rituals. From a distance, Suzuki saw the ordinary people still busy in the dead of night. They lived by their faith, unaware that due to the Holy Grail War, this conflict had temporarily lost its fairness.

After returning by chariot, Suzuki, feeling physically exhausted, suggested that he needed to return to his quarters to rest. Eleanor, eager to see Saladin, agreed to Suzuki's request. Of course, had Suzuki known that all the guards around his quarters had become Eleanor's loyal "knights," he wouldn't have thought he could escape her "sight."

Suzuki feared death. He was willing to help those struggling to survive amidst the Holy Grail War. Unfortunately, on the battlefield of the Holy Grail War, the lives of ordinary people were fragile and insignificant. Archer Tristan's grandiose attack was, in hindsight, a feint. He hadn't used his full strength, and his primary goal was merely to attract enough attention.

As a result...

Suzuki suddenly recalled that earlier, while moving through the military camp, Saladin's main army remained stationary, with small units engaging the Crusaders, suffering mutual casualties. However, the casualties caused by Archer alone the previous night far exceeded the total from the earlier skirmishes.

Continuing along the path, Suzuki didn't notice the increased number of sentries. The soldiers guarding the area did not stop Suzuki either. Everyone knew there was a young honored guest in the army.

After organizing the information he had gathered, Suzuki found himself in a secluded area that seemed to be a cemetery. He saw many bodies wrapped in white cloth, filling several small buildings that served as makeshift warehouses. According to Islam, the dead are buried quickly: those who die in the morning are buried by noon, and those who die in the evening are buried in the morning. Judging by the numbers, many of these soldiers had died on the spot during the chaos of the previous night.

A few guard soldiers and Imams holding scriptures were in the most secluded part of the valley. When they noticed Suzuki approaching, the highest-ranking officer among the soldiers briefly introduced the area as temporary storage for the bodies of those who had died in battle.

Suzuki did not immediately question the anomalies he sensed, merely listening to the religious explanations that were part preaching, part praise.

Besides the issue of customs, the piled-up bodies could easily lead to plagues and other disasters. Even though the officer boasted that their special spices could keep the bodies from decaying for three days, the strong, pungent smell in the air made Suzuki, with his limited magical knowledge, recognize that the so-called special spices were mixed with magic. He couldn't identify the type of magecraft, but it certainly seemed unusual.

He subtly expressed his concern about the potential outbreak of a plague, but the officer immediately and strongly denied any possibility of such an outbreak.

"Have you ever stored bodies like this before?" Suzuki continued to probe delicately. He had observed Eleanor's various methods over the past few days and found that such indirect questioning was more effective than direct inquiries. Chaldea's teachings also included similar courses, but it was only after observing his servants repeatedly that he managed to grasp some of the techniques—to avoid contentious points.

The officer paused for a long moment, his expression becoming serious several times. It seemed as though he was deep in thought. Finally, with a simple "No," he answered Suzuki's question. The officer appeared to want to elaborate on the "No," but his lips only quivered slightly, and he did not say what he wanted to.

Magecraft suggestion?

Suzuki also noticed that the officer in front of him, who seemed out of sorts, was under a magecraft suggestion. The caster's skill was average and likely did not bother to conceal it, making it obvious even to Suzuki.

"Is there a set time for these people to be buried?"

"His Majesty the Sultan has decreed that they must be buried on the third day. Keeping the bodies for three days doesn't exceed the customary practice..." The officer trailed off abruptly. He glanced at Suzuki with a puzzled expression and asked, "Honored guest, what did you just ask? I'm sorry, I didn't catch it."

Suzuki tactfully ceased his inquiries and distanced himself from the area. He would only attempt to piece together all the clues he gathered that pertained to the critical points of the Holy Grail War. His focus was limited to this. He tried to link the new clues to the questions he encountered in the Holy Grail War, but they seemed to have no direct connection. Perhaps Saladin was temporarily storing the bodies to use some kind of ritual, or they had another purpose.

In any case, he would not interfere if it was unrelated to the Holy Grail War. Practicing magecraft always involves breaking taboos; what seems morally and ethically wrong to ordinary people is commonplace for magus in the mystical realm.

...

"Your Master has a sharp sense of smell, though often it seems obsessive and inflexible. Given time, he might perform outstandingly. You probably like this kind of potential in young people, don't you?" Saladin watched Suzuki walk away from a distance, dispelling the invisibility spell. He didn't mind the bodies wrapped in white cloth piled around. Fresh corpses were important materials for certain Middle Eastern mystical organizations, as important as magical gems. Saladin's magecraft wasn't from unorthodox sources, but he had some involvement in such matters.

Standing behind Saladin was Rider Eleanor; both of them were supposed to be in the palace discussing subsequent plans.

"Seeing him so serious always reminds me of young Richard. Saving humanity... he's chosen a great and arduous path. Honestly, if a regular magus were my Master, I wouldn't be interested in participating." Eleanor did not actively mention her encounter in the city of Tiberias, but her tone was cold and her expression stern, as if scrutinizing a criminal, staring intently at Saladin.

"It's good for young people to have ideals." Saladin used magecraft to deepen the influence on the guards in this place, making them forget the brief encounter with Suzuki. "I don't have any grand ideals, except to reclaim the holy city of Jerusalem."

Saladin spoke as if reclaiming Jerusalem was as trivial as learning dragon-slaying-level swordsmanship. At the age of 50, his current aged appearance was somewhat unusual.

"Does Your Majesty the Sultan consider reclaiming the holy city, not an ideal?"

"Do you need to think about something that's within reach all the time?"

The two exchanged a smile. Both were ambitious people; age did little to diminish this desire and only enriched it like fine wine. Eleanor was sure that if she had such a subordinate during her lifetime, she would have eliminated them as quickly as possible. Rising from a vizier to a king, Saladin indeed was not a particularly loyal person. The closer they were, the clearer they understood the other's hidden greedy and ugly face.

"It's getting late; let's discuss our official business." Saladin did not hope Eleanor would let him off, nor did he have any illusions that Eleanor, who had visited Tiberias tonight, hadn't noticed his schemes. Deception against smart people was possible, as human wisdom never stops in this regard. But a lie is still a lie and a slight nudge once or twice was enough. Saladin wasn't entirely confident he could handle Eleanor.

"Your false sincerity won't deceive me a second time. Don't play tricks, old man!"

"That's an injustice. I genuinely want to help your son." Saladin wasn't afraid of angering Eleanor; turning hostile and fighting was the lowest form of negotiation. As long as there was something to gain, there was room for negotiation.

Eleanor's expression didn't change, showing an attitude of willingness to listen to his nonsense. "Genuinely help? Do you dare to swear by Allah?"

"The item I gave you is genuine, right? How to use it is your son's business. He can stick it on the city wall, embed it in his crown, or even use it as a bookmark if he wants. I never said how it should be used." Saladin, appearing somewhat aged, shrugged and portrayed himself as the victim. "I only asked your son to forgive all those who came to raise an army. For him, isn't that a small matter and even a reward? The fragment of the Ark of the Covenant was practically given to him for free. It's not fair for you to accuse me now, is it?"

"Stop twisting the facts in front of me. Old man, what is your real purpose?"

Facing Eleanor's stern questioning, Saladin maintained his "complaining" tone. "I have no ulterior motives. I just want the forthcoming angels to enjoy a more distinguished arrival ceremony fitting their noble status. With the pseudo-Ark of the Covenant as the core ritual item, the ceremony's level would be high enough, wouldn't it? According to the reports from my subordinates in the holy city, Richard specifically commissioned a craftsman to create a pure gold box. How can ordinary worldly metal with no mystique bear the presence of the angels?"

It sounded reasonable, but it didn't stop Eleanor from restraining her urge to use her Noble Phantasm to kill Saladin. If she couldn't hold back, one reckless act might be okay.

"I see, you dug a pit waiting for my son to jump into it!"

"Milady, that's not fair to say. At most, I gave him a shovel; he went out of the city to dig the pit himself, and then he jumped in. It has nothing to do with me." Saladin declared confidently. "Since leading the army into this valley, I haven't left here. After gaining the Master's authority, I immediately transferred the Servant to my subordinates. Does the exciting situation outside have much to do with me?"

"All this time, you've been sending small squads to alter the nodes of the underground ley lines in the surrounding area?" Eleanor wasn't buying Saladin's story at all. Instead, she understood the implication in Saladin's words and immediately thought of his next pre-set step.

"Talking with smart people like you, Lady Eleanor is truly enjoyable. I am also well-intentioned. The pseudo-Ark of the Covenant requires a lot of magical energy to create, right? No matter how desperate your son is, he wouldn't set up the ritual in the holy city. I helped him in advance by selecting several locations and gathering the ley line magic power from the surrounding areas. Very convenient."

Eleanor was so furious that she couldn't speak for a moment. She had only known of Saladin's cunning during her lifetime in Egypt. After a real encounter, she understood why a non-Christian foreigner would be called a "true knight" and a "saint." Those chosen by the Holy Grail and Servants would be manipulated by him on his chessboard. An ordinary person might be so thoroughly deceived that they'd even thank Saladin for "going easy on them."