Chapter 492 - Rumelian Here, Rumelian There, Rumelian Everywhere!

"You don't understand, my dear Helio." Antonius seems to be in a rather good mood at this point of time as he placed his zatrikion chess piece and replied. "If we only got one simple trick of placing war banners and flags everywhere around the place, things would not have had the same effect as indented. In fact, we used multiple tactics and tricks in a row to enhance the terror and fear in the Ottoman's heart making them – especially their higher ups to feel that they have been surrounded to force them to make a wrong move, and there they are now dropping one after another wrong pawn on this chess board since the start of the war." 

After saying these, the Caesar made one movement on the chessboard resulting in a checkmate. Apostolos on the other side started appeasing the Caesar praising his dominance in the game. From the score board it indeed looks like it as Antonius has won three rounds in a row, but Alexios standing by one side knows that this old man called Apostolos has been deliberately losing to the Caesar since the start after putting up what it seems to be a good fight. He always manages to deliberately leave some holes or weakness that the Caesar can exploit if he is careful enough and turn the table around, making him feels like he has achieved something and be filled with the feeling of accomplishment. 

This old faggot is dangerous, extremely dangerous if he is going to become a political rival, Alexios thought to himself as he continued pretending to observe the map. 



The winter of the entire world in the 1400s is becoming colder and longer as each year passes, making this world a harder place for people to stay, especially for the farmers with bad harvests resulting in famine more and more frequent. But over here in the battlefield a few miles away from Ptolemaida it seems to be a completely different world. The entire place is now beaming with heat as the battle reached its climax with violent clashes happening everywhere along this two mile long frontline right under the luminescence light of the winter sun in high noon. It is the largest and most spectacular direct confrontation that the Balkans has seen in the past decade between two armies of tens of thousands of people on each side. 

Well, the one under the walls of Thessaloniki a few years back is of course not counted. 

The Romans partaking in this battle are truly elites picked from the entire force of Antonius' semi independent kingdom. But just like one has said earlier, in a war of close quarter combat between tens of thousands of people personnel combat abilities and bravery hardly matters anymore. As the battle is prolonged for hours the casualty rate of the Romans started increasing drastically, and yet they are not having a full advantage, because they are still stuck in this endless war of attrition in manpower lacking the capability to deal a devastating strike to the opponents. 

Actually, the Sanjak bey of Sanjak-i Yanya, Hüseyin Çelik can already proclaim a better war leader than his old master the deceased Grand Vizier Candarli Halil Pasha, as he has already dealt far more deaths to the Rumelians with far less men as compared to that pathetic operation done by his old master trying to seize Thessaloniki that ended up getting tens of thousands of Ottomans killed.

With the situation escalating, things are definitely not going towards the way that the Romans have desired, especially for the troops under the command of Julian. Being the best infantry regiments, they have been participating in almost already single major battles since the day the flag of the double headed eagle enters the mountainous land of Epirus. And it is no doubt that among all other units, the troopers under Julian serves the most for war effort and sacrifices themselves the most at the same time. After that blood grinding siege of the first fortress, almost twenty percent of Julian's men are wept out from the order of battle and are replaced with new recruits, meaning that the combat capabilities of Julian's troops have actually dropped instead of improved.

Apostolos looked up at the sun, the time now is a little pass noon, and the sun is hanging at the peak slightly into the west. He kept that grin of appeasement and approached Antonius with a stern look. "Your majesty, it is time."

Antonius nodded his head slightly.



Back in the Ottoman army, the Sanjek is seating there staring at the front with a pair of blood shot eyes. He has just made one but final contact with Adrianos by sending his own guard asking for their intentions, who returned with all of his cloths stripped and a verbal message saying that. "I know that you Ottomans from the east has never looked and treated us the natives as one of you, and in fact we have never seen you as one of us too. So if the country, the Sultan, and the ruler has never loved us, then why do you even expect us to show our support and expect us to die for you and the country that we do not belong to?"

This sentence is being spoken in an Ottoman Turkish by Adrianos which is full of mistakes in his phrasing and grammar. Though it does means a lot to the Sanjek as he slowly sat back onto his seat again massaging his forehead in pain. The enduring battle, failed policies of segregation between the Ottomans and the natives, the poorly planned drafting system and the unruly Ottoman lords in the rural areas has finally made the crack between the Ottomans and natives wide enough to let the lava hidden beneath to explode out. No matter what the Sanjek deems this event as his own failure, regretting his choice of granting the local Rumelians the positions of officers and letting them hold their units independently. But of course, it is too late to regret now.

Besides, the Sanjek knows about what this Adrianos is thinking. He is waiting for the results of the battle between him and Antonius. If the Ottomans wins the battle, then they would attack the Ottomans out of a sudden chasing them away, and then securing a piece of land in the region to become independent. If Antonius shows signs of winning, then they would jump board and attack the Ottomans too to increase their contributions so that they would gain more benefits and rewards when they join the court of Antonius.

It seems like Adrianos has decided that this is the best time now to jump board onto the ship of Antonius, and so he made this response to the Sanjek's words of calling.

The scouts came back reporting that there are a group of horses galloping a distance away from the left flank of the Ottomans among the woods and according to the scouts these cavalries are carrying Mamluk flags, most likely it's the ones that have came here all the way after destroying the supply base. Because of these cavalries the Sanjek has shifted most of his attentions to this side, thinking that the Rumelians shall definitely strike their left flank first as he still has the form of perspective that the Rumelians are weak in mounted combat, so the Mamluk cavalries must be the most battle capable unit of that pirate bastard Antonius. Since that pirate's treacherous elite Mamluk cavalries are there on the left flank, that means that they shall definitely start a major cavalry charge from over that direction.

Simple as that.

The blade of the Sanjek, gifted by the old Sultan Murad II himself after the battle of Golubac, rests quietly on the Sanjek's thighs. He has already informed every reliable Ottoman commander in the army regarding the current situation, saying honestly that they have already been surrounded by an unknown amount of enemies, with a bunch of rebels on their back who are waiting for the Ottoman army's death like a peck of vultures. In normal occasions this would greatly depress the morales of the army, but in this kind of desperate and hopeless circumstances, it would only initiate the warrior's self preservation instinct and battle on even harder.

The Sanjek has done everything he can do, by now after hours into war almost every single unit here has been engaged. The chain of command has been completely messed up as every troop is fighting on their own according to the plans set before the war. No one now pays any attention to the commanding flags, and not many people in the frontline can hear the drums and horns as it is covered up by the shouts of men and exchange of blades.. The Sanjek gently swept his fingers across his Kilij blade, his Taqiyah has already flown away revealing the ashen hair beneath it flying freely in the air, he kneeled towards the direction of Mecca in the east and started praying to the Mighty Allah to have mercy on him and his men.