In the church lit by candlelight at night, a group of Roman nobles, Latin nobles, and clergy were seated on either side of the long table. The war meeting, which couldn’t be held during the day, had to be moved to the evening.

It should be said that before Rome was divided into East and West, the Latins and Greeks were the two most important components of this Empire.

Of course, this division is just a later perception. The current subjects of the Eastern Roman Empire have only one understanding of themselves: they are Romans, or Romans living in the Greece region.

The term “Greeks” when singularly referred to by Romans was limited to a thousand years ago when they had not converted to Christianity and still maintained the polytheistic beliefs of Ancient Greek civilization.

Whether one had converted to Christianity was seen as a symbol of civilization or lack thereof, so the term “Greeks” when singled out felt more like an insult, as if calling someone a barbarian, even though in terms of lineage, they indeed were.

Both parties sat on opposite sides of the long table, the candlelight casting some unwilling expressions on their faces.

The Emperor ignored the dissatisfaction from both sides, placing his hands on the table and slightly lifting his chin:

“Gentlemen, in today’s battle, we successfully repelled the Ottoman attack, leaving thousands of their corpses behind. This was a glorious victory, the will of God, and the achievement of everyone present.”

Only then did a hint of a smile appear on the faces of the group, and someone said, “Constantinople has been besieged by the Ottomans many times, but like before, she will continue to hold out.”

Losa smiled and nodded, then his tone turned serious: “But it must be known that today the Ottomans still attacked tentatively. The elite they dispatched consisted only of warriors from the Brotherhood and Sisterhood, and their numbers were quite limited. Those Ghazis, in Mahmud II’s eyes, are nothing more than insignificant cannon fodder summoned by a mere slogan. We cannot underestimate the strength of our enemies due to this.”

Losa paused before continuing: “You must also be aware that the Pope’s call for Crusaders in Europe is not going smoothly. The defeat of the Varna Crusaders greatly diminished people’s enthusiasm to join the Crusade.”

Losa did not intend to tell a benevolent lie. Should the defenders place all their hopes on reinforcements, that day after day of expectancy would eventually turn into a profound disappointment.

“What we must do is rekindle their passion. In Constantinople, achieve results that shock the world, make the heretics tremble, make them fear, and make them attack each other, falling apart.”

Losa’s tone was earnest, instilling a strong sense of confidence, which, for others, even a renowned war general like Hunyadi, might be considered mad ramblings.

“Today’s siege defense had many people who achieved great feats by bravely killing the enemy, fighting for God and Rome. We absolutely cannot neglect these valiant warriors, but unfortunately, we have run out of money.”

Upon finishing, Losa looked eagerly at the group of nobles.

They fell silent instantly, as these were their accumulated and deeply hidden wealth.

To put it bluntly, should Constantinople fall, this wealth would be what they relied on to escape to Europe.

What would be left of a noble without money?

Begging from those distant relatives in Europe? Such humiliation is worse than wagging their tails and begging the Ottoman Monarch for mercy.

“Our territories outside have all been seized or pillaged by heretics, Your Majesty.”

“Why not allocate the land of Constantinople to those who have meritorious service.”

Losa sneered: “The soldiers fight for Jesus Christ, trapped in a lonely city. Do you think that in your eyes, this only shows they are easily fooled idiots?”

“Why not melt down the church’s utensils and ornaments to reward the troops.”

These words immediately sparked a wave of opposition.

“No, this is an act of desecration.”

“Wouldn’t the heretics do something even more desecrating if they break the city? They will convert the church into a holy altar for heretics. That is true sacrilege!”

“No, Christ’s majesty is inviolable. If we trample the church’s sanctity for the sake of protecting it, wouldn’t that be putting the cart before the horse?”

The clergy and nobles argued endlessly.

Losa pondered for a moment before decisively rejecting this tempting proposal. In history, Constantine XI had done so out of necessity, but it undoubtedly deepened the conflict with the Church.

Melting down the holy vessels to reward soldiers would not necessarily gain the gratitude of faithful soldiers but would instead heighten their fear.

Render unto God what is God’s and unto Caesar what is Caesar’s. Breaking rules comes with a price.

Losa lightly coughed, and Orhan, sitting silently in the corner, suddenly spoke: “Your Majesty, I am willing to donate ten thousand Florin gold coins from my fortune to support the resistance against the heretic invasion.”

This was wealth he originally prepared for his “restoration enterprise,” but now it was time to bring it all out.

After all, merely ten thousand Florin was nothing for the “restoration enterprise.”

Soon after, several of Losa’s confidant nobles stood up expressing their willingness to donate, one said passionately: “Even Prince Orhan, who only recently embraced true faith, is willing to donate all his wealth for God’s cause. Are you still clutching your money bags, behaving like Jews?”

Many nobles, ridiculed, turned red with embarrassment and had to declare: “I am willing to donate.”

“I will not forget your contributions. Once we repel the heretics, the reclaimed lands will be awarded first to those with meritorious service in this affair…”

Losa painted a rosy picture, and with the Sun King template and Dragon Qi empowering him, his ability to enchant and captivate hearts was unrivaled, worthy of being called Constantinople’s Enchanting Demon.

“Since that’s the case, all of you may return to your posts. This battle has just begun. Although the Ottomans are at truce with us for now, we cannot let down our guard. Their Brotherhood and Sisterhood have more than once seized opportunities at night, earning gateways for the heretics.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The people responded solemnly and affirmatively.

…

On the other side, in the Ottoman camp.

Mahmud II rode atop a steed with dragon lineage, accompanied by a squad of Janissaries, inspecting his army. He seldom glanced at the northern city walls, but each time his eyes rose, they seemed to burn with a fire.

As a young, ambitious monarch destined to earn the title of Conqueror, his patience was certainly not his strongest trait.

“Once the ceasefire period ends, send forth the Sand Giants. Tell their leader that if he takes the head of the Emperor of Greece, I will grant him a territory to settle his people, and all Sand Giants will be freed from their slave status.”

Yesterday’s Giant Ship World is a predominantly human world.

Other races, unless they are like the Wolf Race with high numbers, strong fertility, decent individual combat abilities and an ancient member with formidable strength, otherwise cannot expand and must continually migrate to poor and remote places to avoid becoming slaves to human nations.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Members of the Brotherhood have suggested launching a nocturnal assault against the enemy tonight…”

“No need tonight. When the time is right, I’ll let them act.”

Mahmud II strove to avoid gazing at the tower-like structures standing like a forest in the night.

The boiling blood in his heart always urged him to ride the Giant Dragon and turn those towers into burning candles in the deep night, bringing destruction and death to those Heretics who refuse to leave the city walls.

But such reckless actions are a grave mistake for a monarch.

He despised Constantine XI, the fallen Emperor, but did not underestimate the thousand-year Empire of Rome.

His father, Murad II, also commanded a Giant Dragon but still failed to conquer the city, did he not?

In his ears, faint echoes of his father’s teachings returned.

“A ruler may be cruel and violent, may be kind and merciful, but must never be arrogant and impulsive. This is the wisdom left to our Ottoman Family by the ancestor known as ‘Lightning.'”

…

Losa’s defenses fell short. Even until the sky brightened, the Ottoman nocturnal assault did not occur.

On the contrary, many in the garrison were arranged to take turns because their spirit was depleted after staying vigilant all night.

This was a very bad signal.

Constantinople’s current troops, though still adequate, continuing such a brutal offensive and defensive battle will eventually lead to a point where there’s insufficient strength for night vigilance.

In this light, in history, forgetting to close the city gates might not be due to espionage with the Ottomans but more likely because the garrison troops were so exhausted.

As the garrison finished breakfast, the sun rose brightly.

The Ottoman corpse collectors came again.

Within only one night, the corpses began emitting a faint stench of decay, mixed with the bloody smell in the air, which was extremely unpleasant.

These new corpse collectors clearly weren’t as honest as before, many of them periodically paused as they transported corpses to chat and observe the situation at Constantinople’s city walls.

Some even reached out and tried to touch the walls but were sternly stopped by the guards above.

Losa could sense that among these people were enemy Casters, most likely aiming to observe Constantinople’s Demon Array situation.

Trying to repair and reactivate such an ancient Magic Array with current technology to unleash power beyond passive defense is far more difficult than destroying it.

Mahmud II’s intention of collecting corpses was indeed impure.

Losa smirked coldly. He never expected Mahmud II to be fearful of the plague to such an extent. Otherwise, he could pause the siege every alternate day for a year, and not conquer Constantinople.

“Send someone to tell Mahmud II if you overstep again, it will be considered a unilateral breach of the contract, and we will immediately counterattack.”

As Losa informed the enemy’s corpse collectors, he also decisively relayed the order.

After accomplishing this, Losa resumed his routine patrol.

In the eyes of many, their Emperor seemed like an indefatigable machine. Despite staying awake all night and engaging in combat personally at the walls yesterday, he always appeared vigorous and enthusiastic.

Losa walked along the city wall, occasionally adjusting soldiers’ attire. Sometimes he smiled and chatted briefly, “You fought well yesterday. I witnessed your bravery,” and then pinned a golden medal onto their chest.

The honorary medals made overnight bore a simple sketch of Angel Michael, who, as recorded in Revelation, once fought against the seven-headed, ten-horned Great Red Dragon symbolizing Satan.

And the Ottomans’ strongest reliance, the three-headed, six-horned Demon Dragon, is strikingly similar to this image.

“You are Titus Pollo. I know your name; your father served my brother. Your battle yesterday also left a deep impression on me.”

The soldier called out was suddenly overwhelmed. This was His Majesty the Emperor; even though Rome was reduced to one city, the Emperor was still seen as God’s earthly representative.

“After the victory of this battle, with this medal, you may obtain a two hundred-hectare estate in Constantinople’s outskirts, with unlimited quantity. This is your Emperor’s promise to you.”

Losa considered himself neither a military genius like Jeanne or the Lionheart.

What he could do was very limited.

The “victory rewards” exchangeable with the medal, although sounding like promises on paper, if he didn’t even bother providing post-victory promises, that would truly be disheartening.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep