1453: Revival of Byzantium - Chapter 494

It is over.

It is all over.

All the hopes of solidifying his kingdom, all the hopes of rebuilding the Sultanate

Is now over.

The dream, overshadowed by the hooves from the east,

Loomed over by the smog of war,

Making the Sanjek finally realise, that what he has hoped for,

Has already became a distant past.

Here he is, devoted to serve a Sultan,

Who has already ceased to existence;

Here he stands, amidst the chaos,

Feeling the choking fumes of war, smelling the rusty smell of blood.

From the distant Lake of Van to the Land of Epirus where they stand;

The former lands of the Ottomans have plunged into hell,

And only today did the Sanjek find out,

There is nothing he can do about it.

No matter how hard he weeps,

No matter how hard he tries,

It is all over.

All over.

However, it does not mean that the old Sanjek is just going to seat here, on this tiny makeshift tower three meters away from the land he rules, from the soldier he led. That is not the way of a true Ottoman nobleman, that is not the way of a descent of Orhan, that is not the way of a student of the old Sultan Murad II. True Ottomans, according to the teachings of Sultan Murad II, wins wars, lands and hearts of people through blades on a broad battlefield demonstrating their force, not through schemes and intrigues unlike the Europeans. Even if an Ottoman noble is to be defeated and die, one must die on the battlefield, paying for his own mistakes.

Roars and marches can be heard behind him, the Sanjek knows that it is the rogue regiments of Adrianos. That rebellious thief has finally decided to act after seeing their Rumelian counterparts successfully charging into their former pals. Apparently these bastards have finally decided to throw the dice enrolling into the battle after half a day of watching and gain their ticket into the tent of the pirate bastard Antonius’ tent by selling the souls and blood of their old masters.

Now, with a force on the front, a force on the right and a force at the back pushing in relentless, the Ottoman army came to an eventual collapse all starting to run on their own feet towards their left, which is the only place that is not yet surrounded and enclosed like a piece of sponge. Of course, this side is purposely left open by Julian, as Abdullah has once taught him that it is best to not fully surround the enemies leaving them with no place to run, as this would only depress the enemies way too much and spark their spirit to resist, and give the friendly troops more casualties, in the worst case scenario the enemies might even be able to break off the blockade and run away.

Thus, Julian just simply let these Ottomans be running towards the North-western direction without giving chase, knowing that he has all the time to slowly pursue them down with cavalries after the entire battle, just like what happened back then at the last part of the Battle of Thessaloniki. By now his job here is finished too as he stopped on a hill and watched these Ottoman units collapse one by one, throwing their armours, blades and flags that represented their allegiance and pride onto the ground just to run faster than their colleagues for the slim chance of survival.

However, Julian noticed that in the middle of all these Ottoman troopers running, there is still a group of men on horseback going against the tide charging towards the Roman battle front carrying all the war banners and flags. Julian knows what do these people want, they must be a bunch of Ottoman commanders who are here to bury themselves alive with this impending defeat. Indeed, a remarkable act of valour and courage but at the same time extremely foolish too. Nevertheless, since these people have decided that they shall die on the battlefield today for nothing, then Julian would not mind fulfilling their wish with his own blade.

Julian looked backwards again at the direction of Antonius in the command post, and of course he can neither see the face of Antonius nor can he see any special flags being displayed or him. He heaved a sigh of relief and ordered all the junior commanders and elite guards to follow him to leave their post and ride to the battlefield.

The Sanjak bey of Sanjak-i Yanya, Hüseyin Çelik is now covered in blood after cutting down multiple enemies together with his loyal followers. Suleyman who had tens of thousands of men under his command just a few hours ago, is now also seen beside his master with only a couple of cavalries still under his leadership. Age has truly gotten onto the Sanjek as he is now panting heavily with his chest bulging up and down after engaging into combat for just a bit more than ten minutes. The inner cloth of the Sanjek is already soaked in cold sweat, he is starting to feel that his limbs are no longer intact with each strike and clash, and the power of his blade is becoming softer and softer.

Have the blessings given to him by the old Sultan Murad II faded away? Have the old Sultan’s souls given up on him from disappointment? The Sanjek’s suspicious but stubborn mindset simply does not allow himself to admit that he has turned old.

In the crowd the old Sanjek noticed another group of Rumelian knights coming in their direction, with the surrounding Rumelian infantries automatically evading to the sides to make a passage for then. The Sanjek knows what these people are for here, they are here for him. He does want to make a heroic move like charging towards that group of riders and claim a few more heads of enemy noblemen before dying, but the infantries crowding around him with spears and ropes attempting to pull him down the horse is already keeping him busy.

The group of Roman knights slowly started to pick up their speed and charged towards these trapped preys while the infantries hurried to make way. The guards around the Sanjek did not even manage to put up a proper defence before cutting down one after another, falling off their horses one after another onto the ground. Their commander Suleyman only managed to hold on for a while and his life is too ended with a strike on his neck. These warriors who followed their sovereign faithfully all the way are now all lying on the muddy ground filled with blood, unable to get up and fight by their Sanjek’s side ever again.

Now the old Sanjek is truly alone.

The old man glanced around himself, his loyal mount made a neigh and went back for a few steps with her eyes filled with anxiety and fear for her. Horses, especially the ones that have seen battlefield before, are rather smart creatures that have a strong situational awareness that is able to know the danger that is approaching her and her master. But the Sanjek does not feel the same way as his mount, for he is not filled with fear, but full of agony, pain, remorse, sorrow and the will to revenge for his men.

The Sanjek looked around him, the bodies of his men and comrades are now all lying around the hooves of his mount. There is no one around him now, not a single friendly. Never had the Sanjek felt so lonely before in his entire life, never has he. The Sanjek stared at the Rumelian knight standing in front of him, this man is dressed in a full set of chainmail, with a black cloak embedded on his shoulder, and decorations of lion and phoenix on the side of his helmet all indicating that this man is of no simple background, he must be that pirate bastard Antonius himself.

The Sanjek made a series of wild laughter and charged towards the enemy commander raising his blade, but the supposed Antonius did not even bother moving or blocking facing threat from this old man. One guard blocked the blade of the Sanjek, and another one poked his spear right into the neck of his mount making her drop dead instantly and letting the old Sanjek have a good tumble on the ground making him covered in mud and the blood of his deceased men.

The Rumelians surrounded the Sanjek, who got up on his feet clumsily and continued staring at them with vigilance in his eyes still not willing to drop that blade in his hands. The leader of these Rumelians, the man whom the Sanjek thought as Antonius, opened his mouth.

“Drop your blade, our merciful Caesar does not kill those who surrenders willingly.”

The people by his side started shooting too.

“Drop your blade! Our merciful Caesar does not kill those who surrenders willingly!”