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I’m screwed.

There’s no better way to describe my current predicament.

Sure, I did set the difficulty level higher, but this is like trying to climb Everest without gear.

Forget about making a name for myself; I’m about to die the moment I got here. Is this really how it’s supposed to go?

“Should I run?”

The real battle starts tomorrow, so maybe if I bolt now, I might survive.

But it didn’t take long to realize that was just wishful thinking.

The Knights Templar have already been deployed.

The King of Jerusalem himself is leading the charge, and all the key members of the Crusaders are on the battlefield.

And I’m supposed to run away in this situation?

Desertion in the face of the enemy is a grave crime, punishable by death in any era.

Especially in the Templar Knights, where dying in battle is considered a virtue, running away from the Muslim army would be unthinkable.

If word got out, I’d be excommunicated at best, and more likely, hunted down for tarnishing the order’s honor.

In this era, when the Pope’s authority is absolute, killing an excommunicated man isn’t even considered a sin.

In fact, they might even praise someone for killing a deserter in front of the Muslim army.

But staying here makes even less sense.

A battlefield with a 15% survival rate… which is just a fancy way of saying there’s an 85% chance of dying.

Even if I survive, I’d likely end up a prisoner or severely injured.

When you weigh it all, staying here is practically suicide.

“I have to run. By any means necessary, I need to get out of here.”

I still can’t quite believe it, but it seems I’ve been dragged into a game world.

The problem is, this isn’t some fantasy world; it’s a historical setting.

Even as a player, I don’t have any supernatural abilities.

If I’m stabbed, I die. If I get sick, I die. If I grow old, I die—just an ordinary person.

Sure, I set myself up as a top-tier knight, but who knows how much of that actually carried over.

And even if this body belongs to a top knight, this isn’t a martial arts novel; a stray arrow could still kill me.

“But wait. If this is a game… shouldn’t there be something to see?”

Even in the most realistic game, it’s still a game.

To guide the world as a player, you need at least some information.

Most games quantify characters’ abilities and traits for the player to see.

The so-called status window.

“If I’m really in a game world, it should be visible.”

In Crusader Universalis, every character has unique stats and traits.

If I can read them, I could have a significant advantage over others.

I stared intently at my fellow knight, who was looking at me with concern.

Come on, status window! Show yourself!

Anything will do, just please appear and offer me a lifeline in this dire situation.

After exactly three seconds of desperate wishing with all my heart and soul, letters began to appear above the man’s head.

“Oh! Yes! It’s really happening. With this, ruling as a living god in the Middle Ages is no big deal.”

Suppressing my rising excitement, I read the letters that appeared before me.

This will make me a genius remembered throughout history…

[Gluttonous]

Huh?

Is that it? Seems a bit short.

Come on, there must be more. Maybe it needs more time to load or something?

I kept my eyes wide open, waiting for more letters to appear, but frustratingly, nothing else showed up besides “Gluttonous.”

“What are you staring at so intently?”

“Uh… were you always such a glutton?”

“Who doesn’t know that about me? Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

”…”

Wow, what incredibly useful information.

I’ve never heard of such a handy status window in my life.

I chuckled dryly and glanced around at my fellow knights, only to see a single line of text above each of their heads as well.

[Irritable Bowel Syndrome]

[Distorted Libido]

[Balding]

…What kind of nonsense is this?

Where am I supposed to use this kind of status window?

Should I go up to the balding guy and say, “You should be careful; you’re going to lose more hair”?

Or maybe I should teach the guy with distorted libido about modern SM play methods?

”…Damn it. None of this is helpful.”

The excitement I felt at first had already faded away like a lie.

I had hoped it might be a lifeline to escape the impending doom, but it turned out to be a dead end.

It would have been better if I couldn’t see anything at all; this status window is just mocking me…

Whether he knew my thoughts or not, my gluttonous friend kept chatting away, showing no signs of leaving.

“Hey, Marshall. Why do you look so grim? Sure, we’re short on water, but there’s no way God’s army will lose to those infidels, right? Especially you, who could easily take out a hundred Muslim heads on your own.”

“Really? Am I that strong?”

“Of course! Who do you think made it so we have to rank from second place in the Templar Knights? It’s all because of you, Edward Marshall. Oh, and wasn’t your father the greatest knight in the Kingdom of England? I heard he was also part of the Templar Knights, right?”

Oh, really?

Thanks for the important info.

Now that I think about it, he kept calling me Marshall.

In this era, there’s only one knight from the Kingdom of England with the surname Marshall.

William Marshall.

One of the greatest knights in English history, renowned as a legendary commander.

Now my thoughts are starting to come together.

Earlier, this guy mentioned that King Guy de Lusignan had a grudge against my family when I joined the order.

That makes sense. William Marshall was once captured because of Guy de Lusignan in his youth.

But as far as I know, William Marshall didn’t have a child of this age.

So, I must be a kind of butterfly effect created by the game’s new settings.

This means the settings I wrote are being applied to this world.

To sum it up, I’m someone who joined the Crusades to prove myself and rise above the conflict with my father.

A young knight burning with ambition to achieve greater feats than his father in the same order.

At the same time, I’m the top elite recognized by everyone in the Templar Knights.

That’s me, Edward Marshall.

Alright. Thanks to the conversation, I’ve gathered all the essential information I need for now.

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s still an 85% chance I’ll lose my head tomorrow.

The Battle of Hattin is a historical fact where defeat is almost certain from the start.

Whether I break a hundred or two hundred Muslim heads, it doesn’t matter.

There’s no guarantee I can fully utilize the skills this body possesses, and even if I could, individual prowess has its limits.

In other words, everyone here is destined to depart for the great beyond by tomorrow.

Given the Templar Knights’ trait of never retreating, the survival rate is not high.

Moreover, according to modern records, the Templar Knights captured in the Battle of Hattin were all executed by the Sultan’s decree.

Even the gluttonous guy who was chatting happily next to me.

The balding guy, the one with the irritable bowel, and even me, praised as the best in the order.

No exceptions. We’re all going to die.

What should I do… It’s getting dark soon.

“Should I just desert? Even if I’m wanted, I could change my name and pretend to be a common knight to survive.”

Or maybe I could convert to Islam and defect to their side.

If the top knight of the Templar Knights wants to convert and defect, they wouldn’t refuse, right?

I might even be treated as a valuable asset for propaganda.

Converting to Islam bothers me a bit, but if it means surviving, who cares?

Even rolling in the mud is better than dying. I have to avoid losing my head at all costs.

Yeah, this is the best option for now.

I’ll pack my things and leave quietly once it’s completely dark.

As my chatty comrades disappeared, I started stashing away my gear and emergency rations.

”…?”

But then, my gaze instinctively turned toward the entrance of the tent.

It wasn’t a conscious decision; it was a reflex ingrained in me.

Sure enough, a man in his mid-thirties suddenly poked his head in from the entrance, looking my way.

“Marshall. I heard from Zhang that you’re showing signs of dehydration. Is that true?”

”…What? Oh, I guess I was, but I’m fine now. You didn’t have to worry about me, but thank you.”

“What are you talking about? If someone with your skills can’t maintain their condition, it’s my head on the line as the supply officer.”

I made up an excuse, and he didn’t seem to suspect anything.

So, the chatty glutton’s name was Zhang, huh?

The man standing before me seemed to hold a position akin to a quartermaster within the knightly order, judging by our brief exchange.

If he’s responsible for supplies in the Holy Order, he must hail from a fairly prominent family.

Not that it matters much—by tomorrow, all these titles will be meaningless.

“Hmm… Your complexion looks fine, so I don’t think we need to call a doctor. Still, just to be safe, may I check if you have a fever?”

“Yes.”

Without much thought, I looked up and met his gaze. Once again, a message appeared above his head.

Is there no way to permanently get rid of this useless status window…?

[Homosexual]

…?

What the heck?

For a moment, my mind went blank. I blinked and stared at the floating label again.

[Homosexual]

I hadn’t misread it.

Realizing what it meant, I let out a scream and tumbled off the bed.

“Ah! What the hell is this?!”

Naturally, my sudden outburst startled the quartermaster, who nearly fell over in surprise.

“W-What is it? Is something there?”

“Uh, no, it’s just…”

Well, there is something. Right in front of my eyes.

A person whose trait is labeled as homosexual.

Not that I have anything against gay people. I pride myself on being someone who opposes all forms of phobia.

But still, this is different.

How could I not be shocked when a message like that pops up out of nowhere? Especially when he’s leaning in to check my temperature—it’s not my fault!

I almost had a heart attack.

Even when I realized I was stuck in a game, I didn’t react this strongly. This was a bit much.

‘Phew… I swear, I’m getting out of this damned order by the end of today.’

As I calmed my racing heart and steeled my resolve to escape, a brilliant plan formed in my mind, sparked by the persistent [Homosexual] label hovering before me.