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

As he said this, he stepped onto the wooden plank and boarded the three-masted sailing ship, which was also the flagship of the Venetian Armada. Captain Balto on the ship had been waiting for a long time.

In this situation and scene, it is time to sing a song "Moonlit Sea".

"Hey, Alvin Vashak III!" The God Ancestor on the shore called his name.

"No matter what, please stay alive."

"Ah, next time for sure."

Stepping onto the deck, the cool breeze was intoxicating. Some crew members ran to the stern to collect the anchor, while others came to the main mast to grab the rope. The huge oilcloth sail was slowly raised, forming a full arc under the blowing of the sea breeze, driving the ship to move slowly.

"While the wind is good now, raise all the sails and go full speed ahead!" the captain gave the order. Although the sailors were a little sleepy, they were still very efficient. In two minutes, they raised all the sails to the top. After clapping their hands and taking a short rest, the captain followed Alvin to the stern.

Alvin looked at the sea and whistled, smiling crookedly: "The weather is nice, and the sea is very calm."

He took off the wine flask from his waist, tilted his head back to take a sip, and swallowed it with a smack of his tongue. The wine flask was bought in Corfu. It was made of cowhide and the quality was absolutely excellent.

"But the Sea of ​​Marmara is not so simple. Man, how are you going to deal with the Ottoman galleys?"

"Are there any sea charts?"

"follow me."

There is a compass in the cabin, which was the only pointing tool in the sailing era. It was the first time that Alvin officially used it. He fiddled with the compass and curled his lips, thinking that it would be nice to have a GPS.

By the way, Galileo hadn’t invented the telescope at that time, which made the problem even more difficult.

"This chart is so detailed, where did you get it?"

"I went to Galata and bought it."

After hearing what the captain said, Alvin continued to look down at the nautical chart. The port of Prosfeli on the opposite bank of Galata was where they were currently staying. To the northwest was a canyon where a small number of Ottoman troops were stationed.

That place is called the Valley of the Fountains.

Alvin shook his head and quickly passed that place, turning his gaze to an inconspicuous little place northeast of Galata.

Double Pillar Harbor.

"The Genoese are really out of touch with the information, Captain." Alvin tapped the nautical chart with his hand, shook his head and sighed.

But this sentence caused Balto's confusion.

“How come you see?”

Before becoming the supreme leader of this Venetian fleet, Barto was first a Venetian. As a Venetian, what he should know most is his enemy, the Genoese.

Trade routes, control of the Mediterranean and wealth, this is the inevitable key between the Venetians and the Genoese.

"All 126 of the Ottoman galleys are now at the Double Pillar Harbor."

And if his estimation was correct, the Sultan was probably supervising the battle there now.

"Have we got the Genoese flag? Let some of the ships fly it. God will help us."

On April 4, three carracks and a grain ship sent by the Pope were about to arrive in Constantinople, and the sailors could already see the dome of Hagia Sophia in the distance.

"Is that the church of the Roman Empire? It's really magnificent. It's completely different from the hollowed-out church."

"To be honest, I never understood why the churches in our area are hollowed out..."

The sailors were talking about this world-desired city, but the first mate's face was not very good. In his sight, a few small black dots suddenly appeared on the seashore, on the right side of the ship under his feet.

Pirates? This was the first mate's first feeling. Feeling bad, he squinted his eyes and stretched out his arms to estimate for a moment. The distance was about two nautical miles.

Two nautical miles, based on the current wind speed, the journey will take at most half an hour.

It is worth mentioning that the flags flown by those ships were not the Roman SPQR, but another flag he had never seen before.

Even the dumbest person should now understand what is going on.

"Damn the Ottomans..."

The first mate cursed and immediately informed everyone on the ship of the news.

"There is an enemy attack!"

PS1: As expected, Top Esports is gone, and Sales and JKL can compete for the dade award.

PS2: NiKO is going to G2 to play CS with his cousin. Wow, the Faze Clan in my memory is gone (ノへ￣、)

PS3: Suzhou White Chicken Bear betrayed the revolution! Times have changed!

Chapter 118: Find a way to fuck!

(It’s really the chapter title, absolutely amazing.)

The galleys were not scary. What the first mate was worried about was whether the Ottoman navy was equipped with artillery. If so, that would be troublesome, as he was not sure he could accurately strike the enemy with the crude artillery on his own ship.

Fortunately, the attack was discovered early, giving them enough time to prepare for defense. He was well aware that he was leading sailors with no combat experience, and he had to mobilize them for a thorough battle!

In the captain's room, the captain, who was sailing according to the compass, frowned after hearing the first mate's words. This was something he had not expected.

"Captain!" the first mate yelled. "It's too late to ask Constantinople for help! We must make a decision immediately!"

He bit his lip and shouted, "Second mate, keep moving forward according to the compass! First mate, assemble everyone on board! Notify the other three ships at the same time! Quick!"

"Sì, captainano! (Yes, captain!)"

The young sailors were exhausted by the torture of the sea and wanted to take advantage of this relatively calm time to have a good rest, but when they heard the captain's thunderous roar, they reluctantly opened their eyes, got out of bed, and dragged their exhausted bodies to the deck.

"Captain, the sailors are here." After the first mate reported to him, there was silence for half a minute. The captain stood motionless, looking at them with stern eyes, without saying a word.

The captain's name was Santiago Rusticiano, yes, the descendant of Rusticiano, Marco Polo's cellmate in prison.

It has been nearly 150 years since that war, and the younger generation has forgotten that era of competition for shipping routes, ports and trade competitiveness.

And now is the time for them to be baptized by fire again.

The atmosphere was solemn and even the sea breeze seemed to become hot. The sailors saw from the captain's expression that the situation was not good, so they all cheered up and straightened their bodies, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you afraid of death?" the captain said expressionlessly, his eyes still as cold.

"Don't be afraid!" They answered in unison with confident smiles on their faces.

"Really?" The captain raised his eyebrows, walked silently to the side of the ship and knocked on the cannon mounted on the hole. The crisp metallic sound hit his eardrums directly. He turned the gun barrel at an angle to face the sailors on the deck.

Then, to the astonishment of the sailors, he quickly and skillfully loaded a shell and placed the torch next to the fuse, and asked in a deep voice: "Now, are you afraid of death?"

The black muzzle and the restlessly jumping flames made the sailors lean back involuntarily, with unprecedented fear in their eyes.

"I'll ask you again! Are you afraid of death?!" the captain roared and lit the fuse. He knew that the fuse could only burn for five seconds.

"Be afraid!" Seeing that he was serious, the sailors waved their hands and shouted in panic. Two of them even covered their heads and jumped several meters away.

After getting the correct answer, the captain immediately extinguished the fuse, raised his arm and threw the torch into the sea, and taught them solemnly: "It's right to be afraid. Knowing how to be afraid shows that you are human beings, living people!"

He raised his head and took a deep breath, then paused and continued, "But sometimes you have to go ahead even if you are afraid. Do you know why? Because you have no way out!"

"See those little black spots? Those are the damn Ottomans. They are targeting us." He pointed to the sea in the distance. In the eyes of the sailors, those black spots were rushing towards them.

"Captain, let's turn around!" said the young sailor in horror.

"Where should we turn around? You know, there is a grain ship in our fleet, and it is much faster than us!"

He bent down, took a shell and held it in his hand, raising it to his chest. "If you choose to retreat, death will be waiting for you! If you choose to fight, your courage will become the sharpest weapon! Victory always belongs to the brave!"

"You are not soldiers, you don't have to fight for your country, but now, you fight for yourself! Fight for wealth and status, and for living to see a better tomorrow! Young sailors! Speak out your choice!"

He roared hysterically, his eyes wide open and his voice hoarse.

"Kill them!" the first mate responded in a loud voice, leading a group of people to agree.

"Repeat it again!"

"Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!"

The uniform shouting startled the seagulls flying in the sky.

"Okay, start preparing immediately! Two people will be in charge of one cannon. Let the pirates see our power! Let Neptune be impressed by your fighting courage!"

Neptune, the sea god who rules the sea in Roman mythology, is in charge of one third of the universe. The astronomical symbol of Neptune represents the shining divine fork in Neptune's hand.

As soon as the words fell, the sailors quickly dispersed and prepared, carrying shells and supplies to their positions.

The captain climbed up to the high watchtower and looked down at their orderly progress. After looking at the reactions of the other ships in the fleet, he nodded calmly.

"These two guys are pretty good." He stared at the sea and talked to himself, with excitement surging in his heart.

"Come on, little Osman boys."

Half an hour later, the Ottomans slowed down when they were still a few hundred meters away. They were observing whether there were any weapons on the fleet and did not dare to act rashly.

After a careful observation, the captain breathed a sigh of relief. Although this group of pirates was large in number, about a hundred in number, their equipment was extremely simple, and most of them were holding cold weapons such as spears and swords.

"That is, it is a paddle sail. If it is a carrack like ours, it will be a big trouble."

A hundred meters away, they started shouting.

"Lay down your weapons and surrender!" The Turkish language was mumbling, and to him it sounded like the people on the opposite boat were chanting some medieval black magic spell.

The first mate, one of the few on the ship who had used artillery, wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked, "Captain, we are very close, can we fire a cannon?"

"Wait." He wanted to observe more. "We're going to have a big one."

Seeing that the fleet remained unmoved, the Ottoman ships thought it was because the distance was too far, so they gradually approached them.

"Is the Ottoman navy so outrageous?" The captain couldn't help it this time.

"Captain, do we still want to fight?"

"Fight, of course we have to fight!" A murderous look flashed in his eyes. The first mate, who had been itching to do something, quietly pointed his gun at the pirate flagship and asked for help again, but this time he changed the wording.

"Captain, shall we fire a shot?"

"No!" The captain shook his finger, looked at his disappointed expression, and said with a crooked smile: "Fire two shots! Sink it!"

"Sì, capitano!"

PS: "Don't go, listen to me, listen to me..."

Little chatterbox, my little chatterbox...

Chapter 119 Osman's Galaxy Raft (Part )

(If you haven't ordered the previous chapter, please do so now——)

In early March, before the Urban guns were shipped to the front, the Sultan also began to deploy for the first time another of his weapons - his fleet.

Looking through the history of Constantinople, we can find that all the besiegers of Constantinople were aware of one very important point: if they could not firmly control the sea, the siege would fail. This was true for Attila, the Bulgarians, the Arabs, and even the Sultan's father Murad II when he attacked the city in 1422.

Murad II also made sufficient preparations that year. He had everything the empire needed except new cannons. However, the old sultan had a very bad relationship with Venice at that time, which led to his fleet being chased and attacked by the Venetian fleet. He fled everywhere and was caught in June 1422. His entire army was annihilated in Gallipoli.

If the besiegers could not blockade the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles, the Byzantine cities along the Black Sea and other Christian countries would be able to easily supply the city from the sea. In that case, Constantinople would become a truly impregnable fortress, and the Ottomans would be drained of their last drop of blood.

It was with this in mind that Erdogan built the Cutthroat Fort and equipped it with heavy artillery in 1452. Since then, no ship has been able to pass freely through the Bosphorus Strait, in and out of the Black Sea without inspection, to provide any supplies to the desperate city.

——In the end, we lost it, and almost lost our top combat power.

At the same time, he began to prepare ships and expand the navy. In the winter of 1452, the empire launched an ambitious shipbuilding program, building a large number of new warships at the Ottoman naval base in Gallipoli, and perhaps also at Sinop on the Black Sea coast and some docks in the Aegean Sea.

Although the Sultan was named a prophet, he had a long-term vision that surpassed any previous Sultan. The new navy to capture Constantinople was only the first step of his great ideal (although this step was mostly done by Erdogan). The Sultan's vision had long jumped out of the Balkans and looked towards Italy, France and Spain, which were conquered by his idol, Gaius Julius Caesar, and were also the source of technology for the empire.

However, it was not an easy task to develop the navy in the Ottoman Empire. Just half a month after the Sultan regained power and slightly revealed his interest in the navy, someone immediately jumped out to oppose his idea.

What shocked and angered Mamtim was that the first person to oppose his great plan was actually Salja Pasha from the Balkans. This war faction member who firmly stood on the side of the Sultan and was also a representative of the emerging military aristocracy in the empire, even opposed him. This made the Sultan feel extremely angry and unbelievable. He finally understood why Erdogan spent nearly ten years but the navy's progress was so slow.

Throughout history, any rising aggressive empire will always have a group of nobles who rely on the army and military exploits to fight for power with blood and iron. For them, peace and tranquility will only become stumbling blocks, and only swords and fighting are the only way for them to consolidate their power. Salja is such a typical figure. Expansion and war are the important reasons for his rise to the top of the empire, and therefore he has always stood on the side of the Sultan who wants to achieve great achievements.

"Your Majesty, I believe that even if we invest more money and manpower, the Imperial Navy will still not be a match for Venice and Genoa in the next decade or so. Moreover, expanding the navy and building warships requires a lot of money. At present, our country is simply unable to bear such a heavy burden."

Following Salja was Shehabuddin, the Sultan's former classmate who was now thriving in the army. He walked up to the Sultan with his hands folded and said in a low but firm voice: "My Majesty, even if we invest money, manpower, and resources, what can we get in the end? No matter how powerful our navy is, can it be stronger than the fleets of Venice and Genoa? After all, cities are built on land. As long as our soldiers are brave and fearless, they are enough to conquer any city and dedicate endless wealth to you."

Khalil stood beside the Sultan with his head down and said nothing. Although he and the Sultan had a hostile relationship, the Sultan still let him serve as the Grand Vizier to handle government affairs inside and outside the empire. What he said now still had great influence.

Looking at the determined eyes of Salja and Shehabuddin, Khalil Pasha could not help but sneer in his heart. Although Salja looked worried about the country and the people, in fact, it was because developing a navy, especially developing a navy that could defeat the Venetian fleet, required a lot of money and manpower. The current Ottoman Empire did not have such national strength to consume, unless... it occupied the resources of the army.

This is exactly what Shahabuddin and Salja are worried about. In the empire, whether it is converted Christians or emerging Turkic nobles, they all started with the army, or at least military engineering technology based on the army. They will not reject people like Urban, but will warmly welcome them. After all, there are only a few seats in the upper echelons of the empire, and newcomers can only help them and consolidate their status and power.

But the navy was completely different. If you look closely at the leadership of the Ottoman Empire at that time, there were clergymen, army generals, engineers, and traditional aristocrats, but there was no one with the navy as their core.

Therefore, if one wants to develop the navy, one must introduce talent from outside, most likely Christians. As the navy expands and grows, it will inevitably occupy the development funds of the army. At the same time, in order to better control the navy, some naval generals will also enter the imperial leadership.

As mentioned before, there is a place for every carrot. If you want to put in a new carrot, you have to pull out the old one. Shehabuddin and his people don't want to be the old carrot. Khalil is not very worried about this. He represents not only the traditional aristocratic forces, but also the spokesperson of the civil service. In layman's terms, he represents the administrative agency and has little to do with the military.