1453: Revival of Byzantium - Chapter 499

“Hold the lines! Hold the lines! Do not step back!”

Hussein can be seen waving his blade frantically, kicking the butts of the soldiers around him sending out one after another order urging them to not retreat, but received little use. Unit after unit of men started running after a piece of news began spreading the Rumelian troops on the North would turn a blind eye towards anyone who runs or surrenders. This piece of news lured even more Ottoman conscripts into submission, turning around dumping their blade on the ground making a run for their destination of freedom, things went until even some of the Ottomans, who know that the result of this battle is already inevitable, decided to discard their helmet and mix themselves within the group of people running too. One got to admit that when the two kinds of people are mixed up together, they do look alike making people hard to differentiate.

The entire defensive system of the Ottomans collapsed within minutes. When the Roman legionnaires marched to a twenty meter distance from the line of the engagement they are surprised to find out that the Ottoman formation they are facing can hardly put up any defence at all, it is just a few brave souls huddling together pointing the tip of the blade towards them portraying the bravery within their trembling hands, a laughable bravery though. The Roman soldiers simply laughed and went forward in groups, knocking off the blades in the Ottoman’s hands and arrested them one by one, facing little resistance in the progress.

Facing the difficult question between pride or life, many chose the later.

Their commander Hussein watched helplessly as the Rumelians overwhelm his carefully arranged defences. Multiple people, including himself have been telling him repeatedly that nothing can be done already to save the war, but yet when the result of his effort is freshly displayed before his eyes breaking his illusions and fantasies in such a cruel way, Hussein still felt his head dazzling and spinning around as blood surged to his brain.

As a higher up within the entire Ottoman system, Hussein knows quite a lot of things that the others do not know, like there was a surge in discussion on the nation should reform its military systems after the defeat in Thessaloniki, saying that they should focus more on the quality of the soldiers not the quantity. There was another discussion among the courtiers saying that the Sultanate ought to improve relationship with the Mamluks to prevent it being pushed towards the side of the Rumelians. But soon the Ottoman court sunk into a deep turmoil of political struggles and conflicts, especially after the death of the Grand Vizier. No one is working on state affairs anymore as every single person is busy filling up their chubby tummies into the power vacuum of the old Grand Vizier, with their mouth on top busy gobbling up the remnants of his legacy.

A direct result of this is that years after that defeat of Thessaloniki, the Ottomans have yet not managed to build an efficient army controlled by the state like what she used to have before under the hands of Sultan Murad II and Mehmed II, the percentage of troopers donned with armour is only a little more than four percent, using the weapons made from thirty years ago stored in Izmir. Almost all rebuild effort of the army after the war of Thessaloniki is done by individual Beys in the rural areas, or the Pashas guarding the borders leading to both a vast variance in the quality of the troops, and also a greater divide between the central government and the outer regions giving them a greater autonomy.

But the Rumelians did not stop and sink into their own squabbles like what they always used to be in the past centuries unlike the Ottomans. They made continuous progress in military and diplomacy, building a whole new professional army with the limited resources they have with that tiny strip of land, and through diplomatic efforts they made an anti Ottoman coalition and came back with all the states that are once invaded or gotten into conflict by the Ottomans, all the deeds done by the Ottomans in the past are starting to make a come back decades later. While they continue to stagnate, the Rumelians continue to progress.

Hussein allowed his troopers run pass him freely, he looked at the Rumelians coming to him closer and closer from all different directions, with a few dressed in fancier armours looking like commanders. Hussein is a man who grew up with an elite family background in Ioannina community which made him master a fluent Greek language. He looked at these Rumelian soldiers on guard carefully approaching him and made a confident smirk on his face.

“I know that the Goat Screwier Antonius is rewarding a heavy bounty for my head. Yes, I am the temporary head commander of the Ottomans for this battle, come, take my head! And go claim your bounty from your masters!”

After that Hussein learnt the good examples of his sovereign, and committed suicide with his own blade. However, the Roman soldiers did not bother stopping before him, or crowding around this piece of corpse that looks to be prestigious enough for a reward. Instead, they just went on marching and even accelerated in order to complete their pre-set tactical military missions of closing in the encirclement. Only the two Roman commanders stopped before Hussein’s body and scrutinised this man lying unconsciously before them.

One commander is named Mikhail, who have decided to drop out of his college, throwing down pen and picking up blade by joining the military starting from Antonius’ guards after failing to protect his brother stopped himself before the corpse, bent down and closed the eyes of the Ottoman commander, saying. “No matter what, this Ottoman lad is a hero, I respect him, not all Ottomans have became completely corrupted lying in beds drinking meads and honey after coming into the prosperous cities for almost a century.”

His second in command, a veteran who looked obviously older than his superior sniggered at such a comment and replied. “A war hero maybe yes, respect maybe yes too, but I do wish that we Romans would not have such ‘heroes’ appearing up, and I definitely would not want to hear tales about the people I am familiar with becoming war heroes too.”

Perhaps it is because the situation of the battle is not that intense, or it might be because it is just the plain curiosity of a young man, Mikhail looked around and asked. “Why not?”

The veteran second in command looks like he is in the mood to explain his life story to the newbie commander before him too. “You see, Mikhail, if you have watched enough plays in the towns then you will know that heroes are only produced in tragedies, they are crowned to be a hero only because they have managed to do something through a miracle that is deemed impossible by the others. But a war is no place for individual bravery of a hero, it should be an entire system working together in one piece. If there is a hero doing something miraculous, that would only mean that either the enemy is way too powerful that we require miracle to claim victory, like the time when I joined Master Giovanni’s band for the battle of Constantinople, or someone else where has screwed up something that requires the hero to save his arse.”

The veteran is caught in his old memories as he continued to murmur to himself, while Mikhail too began thinking about his past because of the veteran’s words. He has changed, a lot from that innocent junior adult wandering on the burnt roads of Drama evading the tax and debt collectors. He has seen blade with his own blood, his mind is already transferred from being a student to being a war machine. After such a long period of time he still had the remorse for himself, for failing to foresee the danger that is coming to Nikolas despite him calling himself a man of intellect, and also a hatred for the deceased Varangian Yuri, for feeling that he has failed to protect his brother like what he has promised.

But now, after this conversation between him and the veteran second in command, Mikhail started to feel that the sense of hate towards Yuri has dwindled by a lot, and the tight knot in his heart is starting to loosen by itself. Because no matter from what kind of perspective Mikhail sees it, Yuri is doubtlessly a hero judging by what he has done in the times of troubles. Could he has ran away? Yes, but did he run away? No.

No matter what, the face of the deceased Ottoman commander looked increasingly despicable in the eyes of Mikhail, he drew out his blade again, and pierced it into the throat of the corpse.

“My brother, I have avenged you.”