The morning after the great feast felt different—not only to Roland, but to all Jerusalem.
Word spread quickly:
Councilor Vasco had fled.
His treachery was exposed.
And Roland was now the commander entrusted with "external security and regional stabilization."
In other words…
he had the legal authority to expand Jerusalem's borders.
The city buzzed with a mixture of relief and expectation. For the first time in years, the nobles weren't paralyzed by fear—they were united by purpose.
A purpose Roland had seeded.
A purpose he now intended to act on.
A New Army Under a New Banner
Training yards that once echoed with halfhearted drills now thundered with disciplined ranks.
The reforms Roland introduced—based on the best of medieval tactics mixed with strategies from his old world—were finally taking shape:
Cavalry squads with tighter formations
Mounted archers trained from steppe techniques
Foot soldiers equipped with standardized gear instead of mismatched scraps
Communication signals using flags and horns
A logistics corps to track rations, medical needs, and supply lines
Jerusalem was transforming—not into a massive kingdom, but into an efficient one.
And the knights remembered Roland's words from the feast:
"Jerusalem must hold more than walls.
It must hold a future."
Lucien approached as Roland inspected cavalry units mounting up.
"They're ready," Lucien said. "Not just to fight. To follow you."
Roland didn't smile, but he felt something settle in his chest—responsibility, not pride. "Good. Because our first step comes today."
Reclaiming What Was Lost
Roland assembled the officers in the council courtyard, the same place he once stood as a suspicious outsider.
Now they watched him with unwavering attention.
He unrolled a map of the Levant.
Before the fall of the Crusader States, the Kingdom of Jerusalem had encompassed:
Acre
Tyre
Jaffa
Ascalon
Parts of Galilee
And the County of Tripoli to the north
Chapter Eleven had revealed a truth:
Every noble, whether they trusted Roland or not, desired stability and restored borders.
He used that now.
"Our aim," Roland began, "is not reckless conquest. It is reclamation. Order. A new foundation for Jerusalem's future."
He pointed to the coastline north of Jaffa.
"Acre is fractured between three warlords. If we take it, we gain a port. A supply hub. A connection to Europe."
The officers nodded.
"From Acre," Roland continued, "we can move to Tyre. Then secure the coast and push toward the County of Tripoli."
He looked each commander in the eye.
"This war will not be won by numbers. It will be won by discipline. And by the belief that Jerusalem deserves more than survival."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the courtyard.
For the first time, they weren't planning for defense.
They were planning for direction.
The March Begins
At sunrise, the army passed through Jerusalem's gates. People lined the road—merchants, monks, women, children—some cheering, some praying, some simply watching with awe.
Roland rode at the front, Lucien beside him.
Banners flapped overhead:
The Cross of Jerusalem
And beneath it, a new emblem Roland designed—
a rising sun over a crowned city,
symbolizing rebirth.
The troops marched with purpose:
600 infantry
200 cavalry
80 mounted archers
150 support personnel
Small compared to empires,
but trained, loyal, and united.
Roland noticed villagers and towns nearby reacting differently than years before. Instead of closing their gates in fear, they opened them—curious, hopeful.
Jerusalem had a reputation again.
Not of chaos…
But of strength.
The Edge of Acre
After several days, they reached the ridge overlooking Acre.
What Roland saw confirmed the intelligence of Chapter Eleven:
Three banners.
Three factions.
Three petty warlords tearing each other apart.
Lucien scoffed. "They can't even decide who runs the docks."
Roland's eyes narrowed. "Which means none of them deserves to."
He pulled out the map, marking each faction's stronghold.
"We do not storm Acre," Roland said calmly.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"No. We cut off the roads. Block supply lines. Force them to negotiate—or starve."
"And then?"
Roland's gaze hardened.
"Then we choose the one smart enough to see reason…
and replace the rest."
Lucien exhaled. "So it begins."
Roland watched Acre's fires smoke in the distance, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
Jerusalem's march had begun.
And this was only the first city.
The first piece of the kingdom he intended to rebuild.
Next would come Tyre.
Then the coastal fortresses.
Then the County of Tripoli.
One step at a time.
One conquest at a time.
All leading to the restoration—and expansion—of the Crusader states…
under his crown.