Let me introduce you, this is my girlfriend, the Israeli boxing champion

"I suddenly feel that everything I did before was in vain." Seeing that Ritsuka was completely unaffected, Miss Long Niang didn't know what to say.

"Sultan Erdogan still wants to kill him," Elizabeth said in a low voice. "He has gone insane."

"Kill them all, who?"

"The former Sultan Mehmet, Sultan Mehmed II."

This news surprised everyone. No one knew the reason why this happened even after Fatih had become an ordinary person.

"Maybe it's because he's used to it, so he doesn't want to lose it again."

PS1: Hijab is now mainly used to refer to the headscarf of Muslim women, but the original meaning of this word refers to the tent used by the Prophet Muhammad to separate his wife's residence. Later, it was extended to the overall clothing of Muslim women.

PS2: This Wings is not that Wings, I suggest you change the name

Chapter 067: Mamtim returns like lightning

A relatively closed courtyard building, somewhat similar to a siheyuan, but with a typical Roman architectural style. This is the house that Fatih liked in the wealthy area.

"What do you think of this house?"

"Very good, but then we need to renovate the interior into our Ottoman style." He gave his opinion and then paid the down payment with satisfaction.

"The rest will be discussed after the decoration is completed."

He walked out contentedly. In this era of rising prices, it was a blessing to be able to buy this courtyard at such a low price.

"What do you mean by haunted house?... I think this is not even a haunted house. Isn't it just the son who killed his father?"

This was really a trivial matter for Fatih. He remembered his father telling him that on the day he became Sultan, not only his father's coffin would be placed at the gate of the palace, but also the coffins of his other brothers.

Maybe it was a little outrageous, but that was how competition was in Ottoman Turkey. Now that he thought about it, he was really lucky. His two elder brothers were born weak and sickly, and they didn't have the body to support becoming sultan. They also chose to go to other cities and become military and political officials, which made him a little envious.

However, thinking back on this incident, I feel more and more that the incident was suspicious. Why didn't my father choose among his brothers but deliberately picked a distant blood relative?

Is it possible that the handwritten letter was really from my father?

"Have you heard? The Sultan's guards came to the bazaar for inspection today. They said they wanted to check...the rectification of illegal contents in the market?"

"You don't understand. In fact, this is related to the former Sudan."

"Former Sultan? Tell me about it."

"I'll just say it straight. If you know about this, then you will know. If you don't, then you won't understand even if I tell you. So it's better not to tell you. Don't ask me what happened. There are too many interests involved. It won't do you any good to tell you. Just pretend you don't know. For the rest, I can only say that it's a very complicated matter, involving many big shots. It's very difficult to find the detailed information on your own. The library has deleted all the information. So I can only say that if you know, then you will understand. If you don't, then there's nothing I can do."

When Fatih walked to the main road of the city, he heard what people were talking about on the street, which gave him a bad feeling, and he immediately rushed to the bazaar.

The small courtyard he bought at the beginning is near the bazaar.

"Be sure to hurry up."

Fatih ran all the way. Since this incident had become the talk of the streets, he had to speed up to get to the scene.

If the Sultan could hurry up, then maybe he could still make it in time——

"My Lord, he is just a child..."

"What are you going to do? Let me go--!"

In front of a shop in the bazaar, a child of eleven or twelve years old was being forcibly taken away by the Sultan’s guards, with his parents begging for mercy behind him.

"My lord, my lord, at least tell us the reason."

Seeing the parents begging desperately, the captain of the guard said nothing, but snatched the knife from the child. After seeing his beloved sword being taken away, he stared at the man's eyes.

"Don't stare at me like that, kid. Do you know where this knife came from?" The captain of the guard unsheathed the scimitar. The blade was covered with patterns like flowing clouds and water, which further strengthened his determination.

"A Damascus scimitar. This is a knife that only nobles can own. Child, you are not qualified now. Tell me where you got it from."

When he had just joined the guards, he had seen an imperial general use this knife in training. Every time he attacked, he could easily cut a goat or sheep in half. There seemed to be no resistance at all, and the blood flowed along the blood groove of the Wootz steel knife.

There is no possibility of this kind of information being spread out, so the identity of the owner of this Damascus scimitar is obvious.

"Take this family away. I need to investigate."

The family was eventually taken away for investigation. Fatih, who arrived late, could only stand alone in the crowd and watch them being taken away. For him, the fact that the child did not say anything until the end was perhaps the greatest blessing.

If he were still the person he was ten years ago, he would probably be accustomed to this scene and would not even blink an eye; but after experiencing ten years of ordinary people's life, Fatih realized that he could no longer remain unmoved as before.

"A gift, a gift, I gave you this..."

That was a birthday gift Fatih gave to the child three years ago when he was ten years old. For a person who had been away from the center for nearly six years, this so-called gift was the most precious thing he had. But at that time, Fatih never thought that his unintentional act might cost the lives of the three members of the family.

"...Don't go too far, Erdogan."

And when he witnessed with his own eyes that the family of three who had taken such good care of him might meet with an accident and would never be able to chat with him again, he finally understood that in this game of thrones, there is no such thing as abstention.

Only the winners have the right to survive.

"Maybe it's because he's used to it, so he doesn't want to lose it again."

So, he found Chaldea.

"Fatih——"

"Please be quiet, Miss Pink Hair." He put his index finger to his lips. "The people outside are still there."

"A person came here on purpose. Do you have something to say?"

"I think I can't just sit there and wait for death."

Despite a little disguise, his determination was still evident.

"I want to go back to where I was."

PS1: The person who changed the method of succession to the Sultanate's throne was Sultan Murad III. When he was still a prince, he already had his first son, Mehmed III, and later appointed him as the city's military and political officer.

When he died in 1595, he had sons. The successor, Mehmed III, could not bear to kill his younger brother, but he had to abide by this cruel tradition and hanged all his brothers, and abolished the practice of princes serving as city military and political officials in the empire.

After the new Sultan ascended the throne, the coffins of the former Sultan and his sons were lined up in a long line in front of the Topkapi Palace in Costantiniye...

PS2: Let me ask you a question. Do you know how much myopia you have?

Anyway, I can't remember clearly.

Chapter 068 If he could avenge his grievances in the future...

Three days had passed since that day, and on this day Fatih had just finished listening to the teachings of the Koran. But when he reached a certain place, the beggars and vagrants suddenly ran and trotted towards the square of the mosque. The mosque was not only a place for prayer, but also a shelter for these beggars and vagrants, where they could find shelter and refuge, get relief and food, and survive.

"What happened?" Fatih asked, grabbing someone.

"Today, the Sultan is going to execute a family suspected of possessing illegal knives at the stake. Alas, I don't know what crime that family committed to end up like this..."

He suddenly had a bad feeling that this matter did not sound as simple as it seemed.

The Green Mosque is the religious and judicial center of Bursa, with great prestige and considerable political influence in the local area. When Efatih arrived at the square, he was shocked to see a huge crowd had already gathered there. There was a platform set up, and a stake had already been piled on the platform.

Now his thoughts changed. Something was wrong - very wrong. He tried to push to the front, but he couldn't make his way through the crowd - the claustrophobia almost overwhelmed him. He tried to calm himself.

As the leader and worshipper of the local mosque, the Imam, dressed in a bright official uniform, raised his arms and signaled people to be quiet, and they immediately fell silent.

"You and your family are facing charges of treason. Do you have evidence to refute that charge?"

"...This is a frame-up, Leader."

Fatih immediately saw that the interrogation was just a formality, a blatant and premeditated action. The faint protest was drowned out by the roar of the people. He tried to squeeze forward again, trying to push the angry people aside, but they were too numerous to move.

"The evidence against you is overwhelming and all true. You cannot deny it. In the absence of any rebuttal evidence, I have the duty to declare that you and your family have indeed committed treason."

At this time, the crowd fell silent again.

"O you who believe! Protect yourselves and your families from the Fire that is fueled by people and stones. I hereby sentence all of you to the Incessant Fire, and the sentence shall be immediate!"

Then people roared again!

The man loudly spoke of his and his family's innocence, struggling to break free from the hands of the Sudanese guards who were escorting him to the stake. Fatih, unable to bear it any longer, pushed forward madly, and at this moment, he saw a tear rolling down the pale face of the Muslim woman.

People began to whisper, but then a childish but firm voice sounded, silencing them.

"You will regret it."

Fatih was so shocked that his brain shut down at that moment. It felt like a huge iron fist hitting him. When the torch lit the stake where the family of three were tied, he could no longer bear it.

"Let them go!" he screamed heartbreakingly. It was the first time he felt so sad and angry since his father's death.

The Imam's eyes immediately turned to him. He recognized Fatih's figure in such a large crowd. He called the guards and then pointed - and all this seemed to be in slow motion in his eyes.

"Guards!" the Imam shouted, pointing in his direction. "There! There he is! Catch him!"

Before anyone could react and stop him, Fatih waved his fists and squeezed to the outside of the crowd. But a guard was already waiting there, and he reached out to grab him and grabbed his wrist. Fatih instinctively broke free from the guard's hand, pulled the sword from the guard's waist with one hand, and grabbed the guard's throat with the other hand. His reaction was much faster than the guard expected. Before the guard raised his arms to block, he grabbed his opponent's throat and the opponent's sword at the same time, piercing the guard's body cleanly and neatly. The blade was pulled out and the man's intestines fell on his clothes and the stone floor.

The other guards had already gathered around him. His survival instinct began to take over, and Fatih quickly distanced himself from them and ran towards the relatively safe alley on the other side of the square. To his panic, two guards quickly rushed over and tried to block his way.

Fatih rushed into the alley, moving quickly through the narrow backstreets that he had known well from his nighttime wanderings. The shouts faded behind him. He ran all the way to the river and hid in an abandoned watchman's hut next to a warehouse.

In just one hour, he was back on the track that should have belonged to him. The desire to avenge Erdogan and clear the family's grievances was like a heavy cloak weighing on his shoulders.

He lay helplessly on a pile of discarded sacks, his whole body began to tremble. The world that had been rebuilt was falling apart again. He held his head in his hands and cried bitterly - he could not control the sadness, anger and hatred. After several hours, his numb face returned to normal.

His eyes were bloodshot, burning with a cold fire of revenge. At that moment, the past life was over - the Messenger Fatih was no more. From now on, the man called Mehmed II returned with the flames of revenge of the endless fire of hell.

On the south bank of the river, near the dock, Fatih found the bags of ashes piled together. Two sullen, rookie guards were patrolling nearby, dragging their halberds feebly. Their uniforms aroused Fatih's anger, and his first thought was to kill them, but he had seen people who died because of his own reasons today, and these guards were just country boys who wanted to live a good life.

He found the bag, it was near the pit, with the symbol of the mosque on it, and his heart ached. He knew that once the two guards fell asleep, he could put the bag on the boat he had prepared and leave the city.

It was three o'clock in the morning, and when he finished, the first rays of dawn had already illuminated the eastern sky. He stood alone on the hillside, looking at the grave he had just built, and said goodbye to this ordinary family who had taken good care of him as he had done before.

"O you who rest here! We will all come here to be with you when Allah wills, and we pray that Allah will forgive you and us."

Then, Fatih turned around and saw that Bursa was waking up from its sleep to welcome a new day. The capital of the Ottoman Empire was about to start its life as usual, and no one would grieve for the dead family.

"If he can avenge his grievances in the future..."

PS: The hell of fire is a term in the Quran, although it sounds a bit childish...

Chapter 069: The food in King's Castle is good for people

"I suddenly feel that what is recorded in history is simply nonsense."

On the way from the cathedral to the Holy Palace, Alvin looked at the people along the way who were also heading to the palace, and the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong.

"In the middle and late Byzantine period, clothing gradually became rigid and conservative. Clothes were tight and covered the whole body, and long cloaks were used to cover the body. Therefore, pants became the main decoration of the human body... Believe it or not!"

He looked down the street and saw that those who were heading to the palace like them were all wearing clothes inlaid with dazzling jewels and embroidered with gorgeous patterns. If nothing else, the beauty of these gorgeous clothes was truly amazing.

"In the history of clothing, Byzantine clothing is known as an era of luxury. The nobles did not hesitate to use luxurious fabrics and gems and gold in decoration to pursue luxury and elegance. The situation you are talking about does not exist at all, Alvin."

Leonardo da Vinci wore a green robe with a large court cloak on the outside. Green symbolized youth in Byzantium, and the circle patterns on her body represented infinite meaning, which complemented her in many ways.

"Those are actually Genoese, Alvin," El-Melloi II said. "But since you have never dealt with them, this is not surprising."

"In fact, most of the original nobles in this city have run away. They either surrendered or fled to the Peloponnese." Looking at the Lombards all over the streets, Romulus felt uncomfortable.

Are the Germanic barbarians worthy of being called Rome?

The Lombard barbarians dare to call themselves Rome?

But this is the fact.

In those days, he was full of vigor and vitality and thought that everyone in the world could be a Roman, regardless of skin color or race, everyone was a Roman.

But when he appeared in the world, reality gave him a heavy blow:

The real Romans are no longer in Rome.

That day, he stood on the hillside outside the city. The former capital of the Roman Empire had long since become a paradise for the Lombard barbarians. They stood on the remains of Roman civilization, looking proud, nostalgic, and admiring the miracles created by the people their ancestors had plundered and massacred, and they were proud of it from the bottom of their hearts.

Romulus returned to Constantinople, lost in thought.

Today, the Eastern Roman Empire has been Hellenized. Although the country's name is still Rome, Greek has become the official language of the Eastern Roman Empire. The emperor is no longer called Augustus but Basilius...

But in Constantine XI, he saw the shadows of the Augustus of the past. If he had been born in the heyday of the empire, his achievements would no less than those of Julius Caesar and Augustus Octavian.

——And this is where the regret lies. Now he is just a mayor of Constantinople, not even a governor. He is a typical person who does not live up to the title.

Thinking of this, he, as the founding god of Rome, felt even more depressed.

"Romulus, there are many things in life that are not satisfactory. Since she has made her own choice, we support her in doing so."

When Leonidas saw Romulus's depressed look, he knew that he had fallen into that vicious circle again. The same thing happened to Boudica, who was guarding the city with him. That day on the fortress, he saw the other side of this gentle sister that had been hidden for a long time. This was probably her obsession before she died.

Who says heroes don’t have worries? The lives of heroes are also lives.