A Turkic Cavalryman raised his hands to surrender, and was immediately run through the spine with a Sword by a rider coming from behind. Another rider swung an axe at his face.
"Kill them all!" Belem shouted with a crazed laugh, his Sword dripping with blood that had already matted his hair. "Kill them all!"
Eric plunged his Longsword into a Turkic warrior’s throat. He then noticed a commotion nearby as several men in gleaming armor, adorned with vibrant silk turbans and sashes, rushed out making decisive gestures.
A man in a yellow turban drew his Curved Saber and ran forward, his mouth wide open as he tried to make himself heard over the chaos engulfing the battlefield.
For several minutes, the man seemed to be trying to restore some semblance of order. But then, the man in the yellow turban turned and began walking toward the camel train, the other chieftains following close behind.
Eric concluded that the man in the yellow turban had to be the leader of the Aleppo Army, Sharafi Lawuda.
"The one in the yellow turban! That’s Sharafi Lawuda! The Emir of Aleppo!" Eric shouted, spurring his horse forward to cut off the Emir’s path to the camels.
Some of the men around Sharafi spotted the approaching Christian Knights. Shouting in fury, they drew their Swords and charged.
Someone who seemed to understand Eric’s Frankish tore off Sharafi’s turban.
"The one with the long beard is Sharafi Lawuda!"
An Attendant cut off Sharafi’s beard with a Curved Saber.
"The dark-faced one is Sharafi Lawuda!"
Eric’s threats against the Emir also drew the attention of the Emir’s Personal Guard.
They were all elite Gulam Knights.
Although they were dismounted, these slave-soldiers now charged the Crusaders’ flank as a single mass, shouting, "Allah is great! Allah is great!"
The desperation of the Gulam Guard made them more effective than regular Infantry. Wielding greatswords, they began efficiently hacking down the Crusader Knights’ horses.
Most of the Knights had to turn back and take up Long Spears from their Attendants to fend off the Gulams, managing to stop them from felling more horses.
Eric yanked hard on his reins. His Warhorse, Torturer, whinnied and spun around, galloping toward Sharafi’s Gulam Guard.
He urged his mount to full speed and threw a Flying Axe. The axe flew through the air and struck the Gulam charging him in the chest, causing the man to drop to his knees.
He swung his Sword fiercely, knocking aside another Gulam Knight’s parry. The Gulam trembled, his eyes filled with terror. Before he could react, Eric’s Sword fell again, slicing straight into his shoulder in a spray of blood.
The enemy’s body slumped to one side, and he collapsed in agony.
Startled by Eric’s unstoppable rampage, Sharafi began a hasty retreat with his last few Personal Guards. Sharafi ran to the nearest camel and began kicking it to get it to stand, its protesting groans echoing across the battlefield.
Eric tried to spur his horse onward, shouting, "For Saint George!"
It was a last-ditch effort, but he quickly saw six Turkic People on foot charging at Belem’s back, raising their Curved Sabers and shouting, "Allah is great!"
Eric veered sharply to the left, bypassed the Gulam Guard, and closed in behind Belem to meet the attackers.
Eric instantly drew a Long Spear from thin air. The stunning sight froze the Turkic warrior for a moment, allowing Eric to smoothly run him through the abdomen. But there was no time to withdraw the Long Spear for a second attack.
Eric drew his Sword. The other Turkic People swarmed him, trying to drag him from Torturer’s back. Others got in each other’s way, wildly swinging their Curved Sabers in an attempt to kill him or Torturer—or preferably, both.
Eric bent his knees, digging his heels into Torturer’s sides. The Warhorse reared up violently, flailing its hooves like weapons. With one powerful kick, it shattered an attacker’s face.
Then, it brought its hooves down, shattering a second attacker’s shoulder before stomping again to make sure he was dead.
By then, Belem had noticed the commotion behind him and turned back, spearing a third enemy with his Long Spear.
"Sharafi!" Belem yelled as he rode up beside Eric, the immediate danger now past.
"He’s getting away!" Belem pointed to a man in an ornate brocade robe who was hunched over, trying to urge his camel forward.
Eric turned to give chase but felt Torturer lurch beneath him.
The Warhorse’s hindquarters sank, and Eric nearly tumbled from the saddle.
He looked down to see the Warhorse’s hindquarters had been severely gashed and were bleeding profusely. Torturer refused to put any more weight on its wounded leg.
Eric took out a Frenzy Potion and downed it in one gulp. Leaping from his Warhorse, the veins bulged on the arm gripping his Long Spear. Eric then threw the Long Spear with all his might, its cold, gleaming tip drawing an arc through the air.
The spear found its mark, piercing through armor and chests with a deafening crash. It ran through three Gulam Knights and grievously wounded the warhorses of several Turkic Cavalry Archers beside them.
This terrifying sight stunned the surrounding Turkic Infantry. Eric seized the opportunity. His feet planted firmly on the ground, he burst into a run, his eyes locked on Sharafi’s retreating figure.
Sharafi was still trying to rouse the camel. Amid the angry thundering of hooves and the jangling of camel bells, Eric saw his chance.
Eric let out a sharp, clear whistle. A few seconds later, the Norman Warhorse Rabbit came running from another direction, its hooves kicking up dust, its steps rapid and powerful.
Eric quickly leaped onto his new Warhorse, gripped the reins, and spurred it forward without hesitation, rapidly closing the distance to Sharafi.
Sharafi finally sensed something was wrong behind him. When he turned his head, a look of panic crossed his face.
However, it was too late.
Eric fell upon him like a bolt of lightning, his Warhorse moving like the wind.
He swung his Sword at Sharafi’s camel, and his Warhorse swiftly cut it off, planting its iron-shod hooves firmly in front of Sharafi and blocking any chance of escape.
Frightened by Eric’s attack, Sharafi’s camel shrieked and kicked. As Sharafi tried to bring it under control, Eric leaped from his horse, grabbed Sharafi by the collar, and violently yanked him from the camel’s back.
Sharafi tried to struggle, but discovered he had no strength to resist Eric’s Power.
"Did you think you could escape?" Eric laughed mockingly, looking down at Sharafi at his feet.
Sharafi struggled, snarling through gritted teeth, "You... you will pay for this, Christian!"
"You won’t live to see it," Eric sneered, firmly pinning Sharafi’s arms to ensure he couldn’t escape.
Eric’s Sword flashed, severing the man’s head. He impaled the head on the tip of his Sword and galloped across the battlefield, shouting, "Here is Sharafi! Here is Sharafi! Here is Sharafi! God is with us! God is with us! God is with us!"
The Crusader Knights immediately roared, "Glory to Gloucester!"
"Glory to Gloucester!"
"Glory to Gloucester!"
Seeing the head on Eric’s Sword, the remaining soldiers of the Aleppo Army who were still fighting dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.
The Crusaders had won.