Chapter 588: Caesar vs Sultan Part 2
The Sultan has to make a decision right now, his archers can still be reorganised, but it would only be a matter of time before their morales, and organisations are depleted to a mere nothing with this never-ending artillery strikes.
It is a shame that the Ottomans are not equipped with such artillery pieces to conduct any form of retaliation attacks and let the Roman artilleries go freely with whatever they like, but researching and mass manufacturing these artilleries needs funding, which is exactly the thing that the Sultan lacks with the puny amount of land he have in control right now.
It is obvious that the Ottomans can no longer attack the Roman left flank, the path of attack is already sealed off by their artillery bombardment. The Roman cavalries are still covering the left flank, but their archers are not yet moved, while the Ottoman archers will definitely some time before it can recover to an able state, and the Roman artilleries are mounted to aim towards their right meaning that it would take them some time to adjust their angles. Thus, the best way the Sultan can think of here, is to use his advantage in cavalries to assault the Romans on the right, followed by the infantries going in a wedge formation with another group marching along behind them, aiming to cover up the entire Roman flank to maximise contact area. While the Sultan, shall lead his own Janissaries and all the troops of the warlord to go for a full out attack on the Roman centre, aiming to threaten both the Romans on three sides and squeeze them towards the seas.
"Torches! Banners! Flags! Totems!"
The Sultan, protected by his group of Janissaries and shined by torches, galloped around the Ottoman formations, with his Kilij blade passed to him by his grandfather waving in the air.
"Sons of Osman! Mujahideen of the Jihad! Remember!"
"We are not only fighting for ourselves, but for our children, and our children’s children. For a future where they can live free and prosper under the shade of the majestic crescent and star. We are fighting for our faith, for the honour of our ancestors, for the dignity of our people!"
"Each stroke of your sword, each shot from your Arquebus, echoes the courage that pulses through your veins. You are not alone in this battle. Look to your right, look to your left. You are surrounded by your brothers, your comrades, each one a beacon of bravery!"
"Tonight, we march. We march into the jaws of uncertainty, fortified by the certainty of our mission, our purpose. With Allah’s guidance, we will march onto the battlefield and repel our enemies."
"Stand firm, my warriors. Remember your oath. Honor. Faith. Duty. These are the pillars that hold us, that make us the indomitable Janissaries. Let the enemy witness the might of the Ottomans!"
"May Allah be with us. For our empire, for our families, for our homeland, we march!"
The Sultan spread his hands wide open towards his men and roared at the top of his lungs.
"Allah Hu Akbar!"
The Ottoman warriors, with their blood already boiling at this point of time, followed the lead of their Sultan, and roared back as well, forming an never ending sound wave spreading across the entire plains, covering any other noise in the premise.
"Allah Hu Akbar!..."
"Allah Hu Akbar!..."
This impressive show of will and unity carried across the field, subtly permeating the Roman lines. Unease began to flutter in the hearts of the Roman soldiers, their frontline subtly shuffling in response. Already wearied, they felt a prickling sense of apprehension at the echo of the Ottoman battle cry. It wasn’t enough to shatter their resolve, but it was a palpable reminder of the formidable adversary they faced, casting a slight shadow on their morale.
Even the Caesar changed his facial expression as well as he nodded looking at the figure of the young man in while galloping across the battlefield shouting out towards his men.
"He is a great leader and Sultan, maybe even better than his father." Commented Antonius whispering to himself. "If given the opportunity and the time he can potentially revive the Ottoman Sultanate, our old friend Mehmed shall be proud if he knows that his boy has grown to become a man like this. It is a fortune for any monarch in reign on this world to have a gifted heir as able, proficient and charismatic as this young man over here."
Helios did not speak, because he knows that his monarch is still unable to produce an heir as he is in his late thirties in age, it is becoming a sensitive topic in the entire kingdom with the passing of time, bringing a layer of uncertainty under the carpet of prosperity, for no one knows what shall be the outcome of Thessaloniki without an acting heir. What if God forbids the Caesar suffered from an accident or died on the battlefield? The Caesar is neither from a royal family with various trees or trees to inherit, nor does he have any living siblings.
The people of this land of Greece is rich in history, there is a renowned piece of history that every educated Greek knows regarding inheritance, that is Alexander the Great, whose son is only born after his death, with a brother that is mentally retarded. This lack of successor directly caused the wars of the Diadochi whereby the various generals and warlords fell into a series of civil wars and power struggles, totally destroying the Hellenic empire from its inside.
The Ottomans is about to start charging.
"Raise the flags and banners, Helios." Antonius issued his first order, for the first time since the start of the battle, as he took down his mask armour, and rode forward coming to the command post on the high ground.
"You mean... that banner as well?"
"Yes, Helios."
The signallers looked at one another, and followed the order of their general as ordered, though they could not see who the mysterious man with his back is facing them. Soon the Roman troopers saw that their banners are risen as well. And with these flags come with a royal standard, the scarlet lion with a white cross of the Chi-Rho in the background embedded with Golden tassels and cords, being the highest flag out of the others it surely stands out to its general audience, shined by the group of torches and lamps attached to the flag post it makes sures that these flags can be seen by all Roman troopers in the frontline – another minute but yet symbolically important invention by the students of the University of Thessaloniki.
This banner is no ordinary banner, for it is a royal banner that is only used when the one and only ruler of this land arrives on the spot, which means that the Caesar of Imperium Romanum, protector of the Thessaloniki Orthodox Church, Kouropalates mégas droungarios, Strategos of Thessaloniki, Thrace, Seres, Archaea and Thessaly, Antonius De’Ricci has came to their side.
A man on a pure white horse emerged from the troops, pausing before his fellow soldiers. Many of the younger soldiers were new and hadn’t yet had a chance to memorize their leader’s face. But the older and more experienced ones, especially the ones who had fought side by side with their Caesar, could hardly contain themselves.
Leaning in for a closer look, they began talking excitedly to each other. Soon, they couldn’t hold back any longer and let out a chorus of cheers. There was no doubt about it - their beloved leader had been with them all along, silently watching over them from behind.
Amid the escalating joy, Antonius remained silent. He rode back and forth in front of the Roman ranks, his right hand held aloft, a beacon of steadfast resolve against the backdrop of the impending battle.
Affected by the veterans and commanders, the younger generations are starting to realise the identity of this man before him as well as they started cheering one by one, then the thousands of voices slowly started merging together forming one deafening wave of sound pledging allegiance to their Caesar, covering the war cries of the Ottomans giving the opponents a halt in their actions.
"All Hail Antonius! All Hail Antonius! All Hail Antonius..."
The smile of confidence slowly started to disappear from the young Sultan’s face, he eyed the man’s posture with his eyes of hate, that is the man who directly caused the death of his father, the suffering of his mother, the chaos and current state of his country, and all the sufferings that he has to go through just to save his fellow Ottomans and the fate of his family. No one will doubt from that pair of wolf like eyes that if given the chance, this young Sultan would not hesitate to tear the Rumelian Caesar apart by himself.
Just then, a rider came from the Roman formations, looking like a messenger.
"The Sultan of the Ottomans! Our Caesar would like to have a word with you!"
