By 1204, the Byzantine Empire had crumbled, and its sole heirs, Nicaea, Epirus, and Trebizond, were still embroiled in infighting, completely forgetting their past grievances. In Constantinople, the Latin tyrant proclaimed himself emperor of the Romans, while in the north, the Bulgars were rampaging, greedily devouring the empire's legacy, and the Turks were also stirring, eager to gnaw at its flesh. Meanwhile, in the far east, a latent force, the Mongols, was quietly rising. The empire's collapse seemed utterly irreversible, but how would Justinian reverse the tide and raise the banner of revival once more?

Intense pain forced me to open my eyes. After getting familiar with my surroundings, I realized I'd been transported to the body of a middle-aged German man. Damn, my mind wasn't listening, and I couldn't remember my own name. Apparently, I'd lost my memory. Fortunately, I knew I was Chinese. How did I know I was Chinese? Because my brain automatically converts the German I hear and see into Chinese. It also automatically converts the language I want to speak into German. The yellowed calendar marked the year: October 4, 1938. It seemed I had a new identity: Erich von Richthofen.

The soul travels back to the Middle Ages as a Florentine citizen. Starts in Belgium and is forced to join the war.

The Hundred Years' War between England and France, the Black Death, church division, and total war in Europe.

In this endless world of chaos where swords, blood, iron and fire are intertwined, he bravely moves forward.

The iris and lily, symbols of France, blossomed again under his command, and England, with the broom rose as its emblem, was also impressed.

He is driven not by the name of the Father nor by the glory of anyone else.

Only the belief in my heart:

"I will fight to the end, until this chaos ends."