Crusade against the Pope

Chapter 197 It's time to burn down this theater...

The sea in the distance occasionally stirs up white waves.

In front of Gailis was a narrow plain from which he could see the coastline.

A mighty Turkic cavalry force was like a dark cloud looming over the area; the spears in their hands shone with a cold light under the winter sun, making people even more terrified.

The mountain breeze brought the scent of soil and grass, which drifted past Garys behind him, passing through the army of hundreds of people, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the faces of those silent warriors.

A person's life is a life of struggle, and every step is intertwined with contradictions and changes.

Everyone should be responsible for his own life and should take up arms to fight until his last breath, until victory is achieved.

Garys had promised them victory, and God had already made His will known.

This battle must be won!

“Eternal Lord, King of all creation, since You have blessed me to this moment, please forgive me for all the sins I have committed today in thought, word, and deed.”

“And please, Lord, cleanse my humble soul from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit.”

“Lord, grant me peace in this ordeal, so that I may call upon Your most holy name every day of my life, and overcome all visible and invisible enemies that fight against me, and trample them under my feet.”

“For yours is the kingdom, the power and the glory, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages of ages.”

"Amen!"

"Amen!"

This is the final prayer, and it is also the prayer that will surely win.

But the battle did not start, and both sides were waiting for each other's actions.

The position of Garys and his army is too good.

Just as Nicholas had pointed out earlier, Garys and his team were standing at the mouth of a valley between ridges.

The valley is narrow here, with mountains protecting its two wings, and densely packed spear-wielding infantry blocking the valley entrance.

If the Turks tried to attack by force, the result would be more trouble than gain.

One thing that commanders who want to engage in a full-scale confrontation with the enemy must be careful about is not choosing terrain that looks perfect.

Because the enemy is not a fool and will not launch an attack when he cannot win.

But Garys and his men didn't have much time to stand here and fight to the death with the other side.

As time passed, the soldiers would become hungry and thirsty, and the Turks would be able to split up and raid the surrounding villages, lighting one fire after another on the land, turning the soldiers' hometowns into wasteland.

So, Gillis abandoned this seemingly impeccable terrain.

He led several of his infantry battalions forward. As the army formation moved, the left side of the Liberation Front infantry formation was exposed and no longer relied on the ridge, but the right side was relatively safe.

Any wise general should think about how to play to his advantage through formation, so he should conduct various deductions to think about how to play to his advantage.

In fact, the actions of Garys and others were also seen by Elsed.

The game on the battlefield always relies on a lot of tacit understanding.

For example, when Garys came out from an absolutely safe defensive position, it actually meant that they wanted to start a war.

But at the same time, Gillis chose to expose the left wing rather than the right wing, which means that Gillis is at least not a rookie.

There is no real sense of throwing away the flaws.

In fact, the reason is very simple. Since the shield is held by the left hand, it is always easier for the infantry formation to resist attacks from the left wing.

Of course, it is relatively easier to break through the right wing of an infantry formation.

This is a limited compromise, and it depends on whether Elsed appreciates it.

As a result, when the black dots scattered on the plains gathered and mobilized, it meant that they accepted Garys' invitation to fight.

The sea breeze became stronger and the flags whistled sharply.

In the distance, the Turks began to move, the sound of their horses' hooves was like thunder, pressing down on the earth.

At this moment, heaven and earth seemed to be frozen in the vibration of thousands of horses galloping together.

Time seemed to stand still, and the gaze of history was cast down at this moment, watching these insignificant existences.

The Turks chose a crescent curve to maximize the advantage of their large numbers in the wide terrain.

In terms of shooting efficiency, a long crescent line can provide higher shooting efficiency and relatively thin the thickness of their formation.

When the cavalry came like a tide, everyone held his spear and shield tightly, and personal strength had never been so humble.

To the extent that, if it weren't for the breathing of their comrades beside them, many people would have wanted to turn around and flee.

But there is one person who is different.

The saint from Jerusalem walked out of the army alone early on.

Standing a hundred steps away from the mountain.

Behind him are a cluster of undulating mountains, with hundreds of like-minded warriors standing there.

In front of him was the ocean, the endless ocean with black waves.

It is a dark cloud, but it is also the world, a microcosm of the order that governs this earth.

As the black waves and dark clouds came, the light was faint and almost invisible.

Gellis went crazy and tried to stop the chariot with his own hands.

However, history is sacred, because it is history that gave birth to "Christ". After a long period of silence and silence, the Lord finally spoke again, and the Holy Word of Life once again walked on earth.

The plan for humans to become gods is being implemented.

The imaginary utopia will become a real utopia.

The angels are singing: Glory to the Lord in heaven, and peace to all who do good on earth.

In this cold time of winter, a warm candlelight is lit before the waves and dark clouds.

The saint from Jerusalem faced thousands of troops and fought against the "Lord of Terror" who ruled the world.

He was so insignificant, yet he seemed to shout out those words in silence:
“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the gospel.”

Garys moved.

He was not wearing a piece of armor, and had only a huge sword in his hand. When the wave of Turks submerged him, he did not make any noise.

Those cavalrymen seemed to have no influence on Gairis. They passed by Gairis and swung their swords subconsciously, but could not touch his shadow. They could only be carried away by other Turks with surprise on their faces and continued to rush forward.

The candlelight of Garys seemed to be extinguished and dimmed.

But in this wave of thousands of troops, he turned his eyes to the largest military flag.

It was a scarlet crow, spreading misfortune to the world and eating the carrion from corpses.

When the military flag depicting the scarlet crow got close enough.

Time truly stood still.

Elsed felt a little uneasy, a feeling he couldn't explain. He could only attribute it to the battle.

The person who stood in front of the wave before did not bring about any changes.

This doesn't seem to make sense...

Of course, common sense suggests that no one should be able to stand alone in front of an army of thousands.

There must always be an explanation for something that doesn't make sense.

As he rode on his horse, many thoughts flashed through his mind.

Suddenly, he looked up and found that a man in a white robe appeared in front of him.

The robed man lifted his hood with an indescribable speed, exposing his brilliant golden hair to the sunlight.

Then the blond young man, holding his huge sword horizontally, rushed towards Elseid on foot.

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong!

Because the movements and expression of this man in white robe seemed leisurely, but his speed was nearly ten times faster than his own!
In just a moment, the young man appeared in front of Elsed.

The giant sword in his hand gently drew a line across the full moon.

Elsed and his horses were cut into four pieces.

This is the advantage of the sword. The sword can make deeper cuts and can even split a mortal in half from head to toe.

An axe is not the same; at most it can chop from the head to the neck, causing a skull crack.

The death of Elsaid was just the beginning. What followed was the fall of the Scarlet Crow flag, and then the deaths of countless nameless people.

For those riders rushing behind, they were already terrified.

Because they saw a being that was not like an ordinary person, who was killing thousands of soldiers with just the giant sword in his hand!

And those light cavalrymen who were rushing in the front were about to get close to the infantry formation and were ready to take out their short bows and shoot arrows.

They saw some short and thick pipes pushed out from the gaps between the brigades.

With a slight crackling sound, a spark ignited the gunpowder in the barrel.

Then came a roar so loud that it frightened the horses, and countless iron balls flew towards him.

The Turks did a stupid thing. They tried to shoot with shotguns at close range while riding on horses with horse bows...

Moreover, at this juncture, their military flags had fallen one after another, and there was no commander to give them new orders.

Therefore, they are doomed to fail.

……

The battle was over. The thunderous sound of horse hooves had dissipated, replaced by silence, as if the whole world was shrouded in death.

The ground was littered with the corpses of war horses, the air was filled with the smell of scorched earth and blood, and the air was solidified into a heavy block of lead, making it hard to breathe.

Flocks of crows descended on the battlefield, pecking at the lifeless bodies, making creepy bone-cracking sounds.

Some confused soldiers were wandering around the battlefield, seemingly trying to find some souvenirs, but they never lowered their heads to pick up corpses.

They just showed panic, because the soil under their feet had become muddy due to being soaked with blood and sweat, and every step felt like walking in hell.

The tattered flag fluttered silently in the wind, the aftermath of this deadly battle.

In short, Garys won, even though it was an extremely difficult victory, even though many of his soldiers would never open their eyes again and would be buried in the ground.

But they won in the end.

The Turks fled, leaving corpses all over the ground.

They couldn't understand why someone could dare to face thousands of troops and kill them all with just a giant sword.

It is also impossible to understand why those short and thick tubes can spew out thunder and fire.

With no one in command, their morale collapsed easily as the military flags fell one after another.

When this battlefield scene was spread to all corners of Cyprus through word of mouth, a deep crack appeared on the idol of the "King of Terror".

The Turks lost; they lost to a group of peasants who had just taken up arms.

No matter how the Turks defend themselves, they still know what happened to them.

But the bottom line is, they just lost.

Isaac Komnenos was the dictator of Cyprus, relying on military force and personal prestige to maintain his rule.

But his army was defeated by a group of rebellious peasants, which meant that he was a weak "paper tiger".

Farmers and citizens in other regions also began to agree that the government and the army were unable to effectively suppress the uprising.

Just like ringing a bell, the sound of the bell itself has no meaning, but it represents that a "Passover" sacrifice is about to begin.

Beneath the calm sea, countless undercurrents are surging.

In one hall, a magnificent mosaic features images of Christ and Isaac.

In that art, he seemed to be the reflection of God on earth, with a halo on his head, holy and majestic.

Isaac's courtiers, or the so-called elders, were whispering and plotting something.

Trying to make the work you are doing disappear once and for all.

They don't intend to continue acting as actors in this drama.

Today, Cyprus, since Isaac landed on the island, has been like a theater, performing a drama called "The Roman Empire".

Isaac is the undisputed protagonist, playing the role of "Basilius".

These nobles became supporting roles, imitating the court of Constantinople in every way, while the Roman peasants and citizens were responsible for playing minor roles and providing the resources needed for this drama.

The Eastern Empire was a fragment of the Roman Empire, and Cyprus became a microcosm of the Eastern Empire.

The fake lines and ridiculous actions are repeated again and again.

In the past, Isaac never got tired of this, because this was what he longed for and what he wanted throughout his life.

He even had his own chamber decorated with stone bulls and lions, with a perfect square floor to ceiling and a pyramid-shaped ceiling.

Everything there is inlaid with imperial porphyry, and the overall tone is purple.

This is the starting point of the "myth" and the concrete reality of fate.

In this room, Beatrice was facing a bronze mirror. The little girl was sitting stiffly on a luxurious bench, as lifeless as a puppet.

Behind her stood Isaac.

She is braiding Beatrice's hair with great care.

Isaac's technique was very proficient, and he didn't look like a middle-aged male aristocrat. With his careful braiding, he successfully created an exquisite laurel wreath-like hairstyle.

While braiding his hair, Isaac even hummed a nursery rhyme:
"Beatrice, my little princess, the light of Komnenos shines in your heart."

"Born in the Purple Chamber, your fate is determined. You are the only one who can prosper in the universe..."

The winter sea breeze rushed into the "Purple Room" along the windowsill, accompanying Isaac's song.

Beatrice, who was praised by the song, did not feel any joy. Instead, she felt that the cold wind was about to chill her to the bones.

The father behind her was getting more and more crazy.

In the past, Isaac only said that she grew up in the Purple Room, but now he emphasized that she was born in the Purple Room.

Both of these were lies, because she had never been in the Purple Chamber in her life. Just a few months ago, she was still under house arrest by Prince Bosimonde of Antioch.

Beatrice finally couldn't help it. She asked softly, interrupting the nursery rhyme Isaac was humming.

Wake Isaac up from that sweet dream and feel the icicles piercing his bones.

As for Isaac's response to that sentence, it was a crisp slap in the face, and then he fell into a hysterical rage, and all the furniture in the purple room was smashed at his daughter.

Earlier, Beatrice couldn't help asking, "Shouldn't we be named Komnenos?"

……

The play is coming to an end, this is the consensus of many people, even Isaac's daughter Beatrice thinks so.

But the director, protagonist, investor, host... of this play don’t think so.

Isaac believes that he is still in his prime and can perform on stage for decades.

He covered himself with a gorgeous purple robe and called for the captain of his Varangian guard, an officer named Achlotos.

After giving a series of instructions, Isaac pushed open the door of the "Senate".

Isaac walked slowly into the meeting room, looking majestic but tired, as if he was still immersed in the glory of his "victory in the civil war."

His steps were steady, and his fingers gently stroked the top of an ancient statue. These were the trophies he had collected.

The robed "elders" gathered together as usual, some of them had complicated expressions and a hint of cruelty.

One of them first whispered to Isaac about the peasant rebels.

"Yes, indeed. We can no longer be soft-hearted. We must bury all those pagan barbarians."

Just when Isaac was satisfied, suddenly a dagger slipped out from the man's sleeve and stabbed towards Isaac like a snake. The sharp tip of the blade cut through the man's robe and pierced into him.

Then Isaac let out a scream that was very appropriate. However, the man who stabbed him did not show any joy. Instead, his face suddenly turned pale and cold sweat broke out.

"You think I'd say that: Brutus, you too?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not planning to become Caesar yet. You know, I'm Basilius!"

Isaac took a few steps back to the gate. After getting away from the "elders", he took off his purple robe. Under the robe was a thick set of armor.

The dagger's thrust was useless.

However, as a return for the gifts of betrayal from these "elders", footsteps were heard, and along with them came the sound of a large number of iron rings colliding.

The emperor's axe-wielding barbarians divided into two teams and rushed into the "Senate" from Isaac's left and right, surrounding many senators.

"Do you think I don't know?"

"Do you think that Basilius could be assassinated so easily by you?"

"How ridiculous, how ridiculous!"

"Brutus", who failed in the assassination attempt, was looking at Isaac in the crowd, with white hair, looking older than he was thirty years old.

At the last moment of his life, he said: "You are not Basilius, we are not senators, and you are not even worthy of the name of Komnenos."

"You are just a clown, an actor, and a bastard!"

Just as Brutus had expected, Isaac's face became ferocious after hearing his words. Faced with the sharp blades of these words, Isaac fell into impotent rage.

"How could you ignore my orders?"

"Coward! Traitor! Good-for-nothing!"

"Who do you think you are?!"

"You are alive today because of my gift!"

"Kill! Kill them all! Leave no one behind!"

After receiving the order, the "Varangis" holding shields and swords launched a ruthless killing.

During this process, these "Varangis", who were not very proficient in Greek, seemed to hear someone in the crowd shouting something.

Since the order to kill had been issued, the "Varangis" did as Isaac said and wanted to kill all of these people without leaving a single one alive.

Isaac, who had just recovered from his rage, noticed the shouts from the crowd.

In addition to those words cursing himself, there seemed to be a few more sentences mixed in.

"Basilius! I am loyal to you!"

"Basilius! I was the one who told you about their assassination plan!"

"Isaac, you are a bastard who doesn't keep his word. Sooner or later, you will go to hell like your unnamed father!"

However, how to say it?

In short, when Isaac reacted, the "Varangis" had already executed all the senators, including the informer.

Isaac held out his hand, gestured, and then stopped talking.

Such killing did not satisfy his inner desires, because the real Basileus would never massacre his own Senate like he did.

He left here in a daze, without caring about the looting of his "Senate" by his "Varangis"

Anyway, he is a fake Komnenos, a fake Basilius, those "Varangians" are fake, and the "senators" are even more fake...

This palace and the empire he ruled were all fake.

After just two failures and two defeats on the battlefield, the actors other than him were unwilling to continue performing this drama.

The sun in the sky was not warm, but only cast a grayish light, which reminded him of his true past...

His great-grandfather was John II Komnenos, also known as "John the Beautiful" or "John the Good", who was a legitimate imperial emperor.

His maternal grandfather lost the competition for the throne with his younger brother because his grandfather was not born in the Purple Room, and his maternal grandfather's younger brother was born two and a half months after John II ascended the throne.

This is simply because my grandfather's younger brother, Manuel I, was born two and a half months after John II ascended the throne.

He was treated as "born in the Purple Room", became the focus of world attention, and was destined to be a great man.

Huh~
The Franks emphasized the inheritance of the eldest son, but the people of the Eastern Empire believed in "being born in the Purple Room". Even Isabella's mother claimed that Isabella was the first in line of succession based on the reason that she was "born in the Purple Room".

There were so many conflicts between his grandfather and his younger brother who was crowned emperor that they finally drew their swords against each other.

For this reason, Isaac's mother naturally could not receive any good treatment. She was married to an unknown little man, which was a naked humiliation.

"Born in the Purple Room" became his mother's obsession, instilled in him over and over again...

His desire for the throne distorted his family and created a group of vicious people.

For the sake of power, these people intrigue against each other and pass on the hatred from generation to generation.

Is there anything that can end this?

The answer is no, because even if Isaac became the real "Basileus", new hatred would be born among his descendants.

In order to fight for power, the so-called family affection is just shit and a fig leaf.

"It's time to burn down this theater..."

Isaac turned around, glanced at the "Varangis" who were reveling in the spoils, stood up from the ground, and looked in the direction of the man who called himself "the Saint of Jerusalem".

　Recommend a book about PY.

　　Secondly, it’s the end of the month, everyone please give me some monthly votes!

　　Today's chapter is more than usual.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)