1453: Revival of Byzantium

Chapter 370: The Emperor's War

The decisive moment came when the group of Latin knights clashed with the Ottoman frontier troops, even the emperor of the Romans Constantine himself could no longer resist the anxiety within himself and stoop up right stretching his neck trying to observe the situation of the battle. There are times after times he wanted to just take back the right of command from Giovanni and lead the troops himself, but he still resisted this temptation as he knows one very simple rule; leave the work to the professionals, if he really interferes it will only become another catastrophic event. 

"How I hope that I can blessed by God to become the sun, so that I can illuminate the entire Romania every single day and chase the darkness away." After a while Constantine gave up and sat back down on to his stool. "So that my sons shall not have the need of fighting the infidels in the darkness instead of just seating still here and do completely nothing." 

"You are already like a sun to them, your majesty." The emperor's court eunuch answered in an appeasing tone. "You have already enlightened the way ahead of the glorious warriors of Nova Roma, your image is even brighter than Apollo in their heart and mind, you are the only sun in the sky, and by the fact that you are just standing here is already a tremendous amount of buff and encouragement for our warriors to slaughter more enemies for Romania."

Constantine did not bother acknowledging to his eunuch's bullshit, he stood up again and walked around the parameters, feeling an increasing pain from the deep of his head almost making him a little dizzy. This is a problem he has acquired ever since that accident during Sultan Mehmed's siege on Constantinople six years ago, but of course, as a fighter who had never gave up to physical sickness he straight away assumed that it is merely because of his anxiety and lack of exercise. 

Just as he is walking around, a scout came reporting that there is a surge of enemy, roughly two thousand in size judging from the number of torch lights they have, is rapidly advancing in the plains around two Roman miles away trying to bypass them, and the intention of these enemies is pretty obvious to any one who has a basic understanding of battle field knowledge and awareness, they are trying to flank them. 

Realising that there are already no major generals in charge of the remaining troops over here, Constantine realised that the spot light of the battle has been dawned on to him. The emperor took twenty plus minutes to connect his commanding system to the rest of the one thousand five hundred back up troops remaining here. After all the troops have been assembled, the emperor tried to mimic what did Giovanni have done just now to motivate the forces. 

He pulled out his elegant gold and silver engraved sword, glistering under the torch lights, and shouted out his version of war cry. " ! Before this sign thou shall conquer! Let our blades drink the blood of our enemies! Let our boots march through our enemies! Let our roar shake the mind of our enemies! March with me! My sons!" 

But of course, not a lot of soldiers understood what their emperor have just said, and even more people did not know who the hell is this speaking before them, as they are mainly drafted from the Peninsula of Achaia. Thus this caused a very awkward situation, a few seconds passed but only a few cheers can be heard from the emperor's loyal officers and eunuchs, while the mass amount of soldiers remained silent standing there in the dark.

Facing this awkwardness Constantine made a few coughs and had to use the same old methods that most of his predecessors had used before, that is -  "All warriors, shall receive a personnel bounty of coins from the imperial treasury, as a reward for their bravery, honour, and a gift from me personally for serving the nation with your lives! Those who brings back more ears, shall earn a bigger bounty than the others!" 

"Hoorayy! Long Live the Imperium Romanus! Long Live Emperor Constantine!" Now the soldiers understand what their emperor is saying, and their morales instantly buffed up with their minds filled with the thirst and anticipation for the incoming confrontation with the Ottomans. 

Of course, in the end of the day, money is still the most effective tool to motivate a Roman army in to battle. After six whole years of waiting Constantine again led the troops himself, wielding his blade, accelerating his horse, trying to unleash all the negative feelings he accumulated from two decades ago when he first led a troop against the Ottomans marching in to Thessaly. Since that failure he has evolved a special hate towards his sworn enemies, the Sultan of the Ottomans. 

While the emperor finally thrown away the mask of being gallant and serene to one side, unleashing his human nature sharpening that blade both on his hands and inside his heart, accelerating his horse to intercept the incoming Ottoman troops with an army that is far inferior in numbers. There is at least some marvellous news coming from the main battle field, that is Giovanni managed to hammer his Latin mercenaries right in to the central command of the Ottomans going in deeper and deeper, until the pioneers can almost see the Ottoman commanding flag and the Sultan's white horse flag beside the torches through his helmet. 

Giovanni is there too wielding his cutlass fending off one after another enemy, as the spear head he has been stuck in the most dangerous position of the formation, he need to fend off the attacks from two different direction by three enemies at once, in exchange for his men to have lesser pressure and continue pushing forward. Though the hard fact is that at the end of the day, the Ottomans are still outmatching the Roman forces for two to one. 

But there is still hope, as Giovanni could feel the change of emotion and morales of his enemies; First the Ottomans felt surprised that the Rumelians dared to launch a sudden attack at them due to their impression of the Rumelians in Constantinople being turtles who are afraid of head on combat. Then they are shocked when they can see one after another of their pals and comrades getting cut down, with the front line kept moving towards the back. Then now they are already starting to be petrified by the advancing Rumelians, because they have no idea how many enemies are there, they could only feel that the entire line of defence is getting loose with signs of collapsing. 

Mahumad Pasha Angelovic, as the main commander of the Ottoman forces, remained in the same position seating on that white horse gifted to him by the young Sultan. He continued observing the battle field going on right in three hundred meters in front of him with a pair of blood shot eyes, giving out one after another orders making the reinforcements to feel up the gaps and sustain the defence lines, while he waited anxiously for the flanking troops to show up. He too can see that the Rumelians have already lost their charging momentum, and their energy level is depleting fast. If they managed to sustain their line of defence it would not take long before these pricks donned in armours would totally run out of energy, and then shall be the time for him to push back.

The wrestling race continued between both sides testing their endurance and perseverance, with the battle situation like this, Mahumad Pasha Angelovic cannot effectively use his superiorty in man power. At the end of this race if his front line troops could no longer take the test and rolls back, it would become a catastrophic collapse in the centre, and then his troops shall be separated in to two different segments waiting to be eaten up by the Rumelians.

With a clear thought in mind Mahumad Pasha Angelovic clenched his fist, sinking his thumb nails deep in to his skin as he pulled out his blade and shouted some thing to his elite guards motivating them to march on to the front line, engage the enemies and stabalise their defence. However although his actions can be seen by his Ottoman pals, it could also be seen clearly by another man facing him, that is Giovanni.

The movements of this man on white horse immediately indicates to Giovanni that this man must be a commander or some sort, with the Sultan's royal flag beside the white horse Giovanni can almost be certain that he is the main commander of the Ottomans, the man that he is looking for. After making an assumption Giovanni bite his lips hard again till blood sips out, charged in front with his final bit of energy penetrating through the defence of three Ottoman foes, just to become as close as possible to his target, Mahumad Pasha Angelovic.