1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Cairo, Saladin's Castle.

A heated debate was underway in the Mamluk court.

News of the Grand Duke of Sult's attack on Bilinchi had spread throughout Cairo, causing an uproar among the people.

In their eyes, the Mamluks were the guardians of the two holy sites and the protectors of the Abbasid Caliphate. They were also considered to be the strongest force in the entire Islamic world.

They had defeated the fierce Mongols, driven out the Crusaders who had been entrenched there for years, repelled several Christian counterattacks, and punished the Cypriots who had destroyed Alexandria.

They monopolized trade between the East and West, regularly transporting spices and silk from India to Europe in exchange for large quantities of gold.

How could such a powerful empire be invaded by a small pagan regime?

For a time, under the deliberate guidance of the Sunni ulema, calls for a holy war against Sulayman grew louder and louder, alarming even the reclusive puppet caliph.

From top to bottom, everyone unanimously demanded that Sultan Chakmak send troops to wipe out the Qafils entrenched in Sult.

Chakmak was backed into a corner and no longer paid attention to Yusuf, who insisted on "fighting the enemy himself," and formally declared a holy war against the Duchy of Sult.

However, when it came to dispatching troops, the central officials and local emirs with real power became embroiled in disputes and wrangling.

The central faction, led by Sultan Chakmak, strongly advocated organizing a holy war. They proposed that the main force should be made up of volunteers from the lower classes, with the elite Mamluks, dispatched by the central government, forming the auxiliary force. They planned to send these troops to Bayrga.

The local emirs, led by the vizier and head of intelligence, insisted on dispatching the central army directly, while allowing local emirs to lead their own private armies in the holy war.

The Sultan himself did not want to entrust all his resources to the Vizier, who was about to lead the army into battle. He also wanted to take advantage of the situation to annex the fertile land of Bayrga for himself, which made him conflicted.

Ultimately, a compromise was reached: the forces would be divided into two columns based on supply conditions. The Sultan's son, Mansur, would lead 2,000 royal Mamluks, 4,000 jihadists, and 5,000 tribal troops to assist Yusuf in fortifying the defenses. Meanwhile, the Vizier, Ashraf, would wait for the local private armies to assemble before advancing, with the aim of achieving a decisive victory over the Qafila.

With just over 10,000 troops, this was the maximum number that the coastal desert in the north could support.

On 20 July 1448, Mansur set out from Cairo with more than 10,000 troops, full of confidence.

...

The roars, screams, and wails mingled with the sound of cannons, echoing across the land.

The smell of burning flesh, rot, and acrid black smoke from burning oil filled the sky.

This was Tobruk, the eastern gateway to Cyrenaica and the focal point of the struggle between Orthodox Christians and Muslims.

The governor of Tobruk, Al-Arch, had always been at odds with Yusuf. Upon hearing of his defeat, Al-Arch rejoiced.

In his view, Tobruk was separated from Bilinchi by the entire Green Mountain region, so no matter how powerful the Christians were, they could not threaten his short-term rule.

Once the Christians had exhausted their forces in Yusuf's territory, he would reap the rewards!

However, Yaroslav and Earl Adnan's raid shattered his dreams.

These Orthodox raiders had gathered local tribes and were rampaging across the land, burning, killing, and looting. They reduced all the settlements outside the city to ruins.

Governor Al-Arch watched this scene with fear in his heart, not daring to leave the city.

The situation at sea was just as bad. The ships he had sent out to purchase food and weapons were sunk one by one by the Christian fleet lurking off the coast.

He could only pray to Allah that the Orthodox Christians would loot and leave.

Why were they targeting Tobruk, a region that was so rich and prosperous? He did not waste time. Instead, he delivered a passionate speech within the city walls, urging the citizens to take up arms and resist the invaders. He vowed to fight the Christians to the death.

On 10 July 1448, he led his army across the Green Mountains and arrived in Tobruk. His attempts to persuade the defenders to surrender failed, so he laid siege to the city.

As usual, he first forced the nearby Muslim tribesmen he had captured to fill the moats, thereby wearing down the enemy's initial momentum.

The walls of Tobruk were high, but the quality and training of the defenders were mediocre.

Given this, the best option would have been to use large cannons, but Isaac was travelling light and was therefore unable to do so.

The only option was to fight to the death.

For several days, he drove the tribesmen to attack the city walls. When the enemy was at its most exhausted, he sent in his elite Purple Guard to charge, inflicting heavy casualties.

This attack on the city was unremarkable: a dull, hard-fought battle.

Due to his brutal actions across North Africa, all Muslims viewed Isaac as the devil incarnate. They refused to surrender until their spines were completely broken.

Arrows and stones flew through the air, swords clashed, and tribal warriors, hoping for good luck, broke through the hail of arrows and gunfire to climb the ladders to the walls, only to be crushed by stones and rolling logs.

On the battlefield, countless lives were lost, only to be replaced by countless others rushing forward to take their place.

The conscripted tribal warriors, driven forward by arrows, desperately pushed towards the city walls, seeking a glimmer of hope in their despair.

Elite Purple Guard soldiers, clad in blue-purple cloaks and iron armor, stood behind them, staring intently at the fierce battle raging on the walls. Their weapons were clenched tightly in their sweaty hands.

After days of siege, the enemy forces were exhausted and their numbers had dwindled. The most fanatical Islamic militants were the first to fall under the enemy's assault, and now only a group of militia on the verge of collapse remained.

Religious fanaticism can boost morale in the short term, but not in the long term.

The bloodlust inspired by religion will collapse in an instant when there is no hope in sight after a long battle.

The battering rams were ready.

With the support of the Purple Guard and the First Legion of the Imperial Guard, the Surt army began its final assault.

Unlike the previous days, the city walls were in chaos and unable to deal a devastating blow to the battering rams. They could only watch helplessly as the rams drew closer to the city gates.

Boom—boom—boom—

The rams were raised high and slammed into the weak spots of the city walls.

The city walls trembled, stones flew everywhere, and a barrel of fire oil was knocked over, causing flames to rage all around.

Bang!

The final layer of stones was knocked away by the battering ram, and a large crack appeared in the city wall.

"All troops, charge!"

Isaac roared, determined to end this bloody battle.

The Orthodox army poured into the city like a tide, instantly breaking through the defenders' hastily assembled defenses.

At the same time, the soldiers' hearts were broken too.

The moment the city wall collapsed, it was as if something inside the hearts of all the defenders had broken as well.

Clang!

A sword fell to the stone floor; its owner knelt on the ground, crying loudly.

More and more defenders then threw down their weapons and accepted their fate.

After ten days of fierce attacks, the city, located at a key transportation hub, finally fell into Isaac's hands.

Governor Al-Arch and some Sunni ulemas took advantage of the chaos to escape, but Isaac did not pursue them.

Next, they repaired the city walls, stockpiled supplies, and cleared the area around the city.

They waited quietly for the Mamluks to attack...

...

At the edge of the green mountains, a hundred cavalrymen advanced slowly along the border between the mountains and the desert.

They wore various types of slightly worn armor: some Italian-style, some Greek-style, and some in the local Mamluk style.

It was clear that they were from the enemies they had conquered.

Over their armor, they wore red cloaks emblazoned with their emblem:

an eagle clutching a bloodstained blade.

They were in high spirits, feeling excited and confident about their long-term victory.

Behind them came numerous camels and carts, with groups of dejected prisoners walking behind them. Many servants carrying crude weapons followed closely behind, whipping the prisoners with leather straps if they showed any resistance.

The servants looked at the laughing cavalrymen ahead of them, their eyes filled with fear and envy.

Throughout June and July, this cavalry, dressed in red cloaks adorned with bloodstained eagles, rampaged across the Green Mountains, trampling towns and villages underfoot.

They called themselves Slavs, bringing blood and death and taking gold and slaves.

They offered their most precious treasures to their masters, sent slaves west to work on their lands in exchange for new armor and swords, and continued their cycle of slaughter and conquest.

Under their influence, many nomadic tribes from the southern deserts joined the raiders, becoming part of their ranks.

For local tribes taking advantage of the chaos, Isaac's policy was consistent:

They had to swear allegiance to him, convert to the true faith, provide a portion of their elite warriors, and submit a percentage of the loot.

Initially, the tribal sheikhs dismissed this rule with disdain, paying it no heed.

Upon hearing this, the commander of the Eldosh Legion ordered a halt to operations and stationed troops near wealthy villages to crack down on tribes engaging in private looting.

After several battles, several large tribes were wiped out. The strong were enlisted into the Slave Legion, while the weak were sent to Tobruk to fight in brutal siege battles.

From then on, no one dared to challenge Isaac's authority.

The remaining tribes either migrated south or submitted.

Population cleansing was an important part of Isaac's long-term strategy.

The fertile Green Mountains region was ideal for farming, so it would have been a waste to let the Muslims occupy it.

One group was rounded up, another was beaten, and another was killed. The prisoners were sold, sent west to work, or east to be cannon fodder.

Vacant land was given to Greeks who had migrated there and to locals who had converted to Orthodox Christianity.

Even after converting people to Christianity, swords and knives were still required.

Afif rode on his horse, holding a book in his hand and muttering to himself.

A comrade beside him snatched the booklet and returned it to him, showing no interest.

"Afif, learning Greek again?"

Afif turned back and looked at everyone, winking.

"Looks like we're going to have a scholar in our team!"

Everyone laughed, but Afif's expression remained unchanged.

His Highness the Duke had assigned a chaplain to each squad of a hundred men to handle matters of faith and ideology, and had also organized free language classes to teach Greek.

The Slave Legion had an unwritten rule that, to become an officer, one had to learn Greek.

Many soldiers tried to learn it with enthusiasm for a few days, but eventually gave up in frustration.

Only Afif had persevered until now.

He was no longer the inexperienced recruit he had been when he first joined the army, and he wasn't going to change his mind because of others' jokes.

Over the past six months, he had accompanied his unit on a campaign in the west, ruthlessly plundering the area around Misurata in revenge for the town of Linton.

During one battle, Afif charged forward on horseback and cut down a panicking Hafs centurion before trampling him to death with his horse's hooves.

After this battle, Afif obtained his first piece of land, which was registered in the name of the hundred-man squad.

This small plot of land belonged to Duke Isaac, and Afif had the right to use it as he saw fit, whether for grazing, farming, or leaving it vacant.

In return, he was required to provide military service and be ready to assemble and deploy at any time and in any location.

Consequently, most Slavs had no time to tend to their fields and would typically entrust their land to family members to manage, while purchasing slaves to work the land.

Afif also brought his mother and younger brother to the land he had acquired. He purchased three Bedouin slaves, built a simple house, and bought lambs and camel calves.

The headquarters of his thousand-strong unit were located in the Astar Oasis, a medium-sized oasis in the western part of the Holy Land of Joseph.

The unit built a town there, hiring blacksmiths and leatherworkers and setting up a school to teach Slavic children Greek and theology.

His mother helped to manage the pastures, his younger brother attended the town school, and he brought home large sums of gold.

Such a life seemed pretty good, didn't it?

If he became an officer, wouldn't he get more land? More slaves?

Afif smiled and continued reading the book.

...

"What? Are you blind? This is the Saad Oasis?"

Haru, commander of the thousand-strong Mamluk vanguard, looked at the 'oasis' in front of him and angrily grabbed the guide by the collar.

"Captain... I was here two months ago, and it wasn't like this at all."

The guide was clearly panicking, not knowing what was going on.

Two months ago, this place had been beautiful, with clear water, mountains, and herds of camels and sheep roaming nearby. The tribesmen were kind and devout, and their tents stretched as far as the eye could see.

Now, however, the place was littered with corpses and dead livestock. The wells reeked of rot, and there were rotting pigs floating in the oasis.

The grass had been completely burned, and the trees had all been cut down. The place was deserted, nothing but wilderness.

The Urimahs in the army hurriedly led their followers in prayer and away from these unclean things.

"Captain! We found a survivor!"

Haru dismounted and walked up to the dying man.

He was covered in a foul odor and feces, having clearly hidden in a filthy place.

Haru frowned. As a devout Muslim, he was disgusted by such filth.

"What happened?"

"The devil... We were driven away. Burned... Destroyed..."

Haru was baffled.

This place was far from the battlefield, with several large cities in between. Why would the Christians attack an oasis in the desert instead of taking the fertile land nearby?

Shaking his head, Haru signaled to the soldiers to carry him away.

"This place is contaminated. Don't drink the water here!"

Haru looked at the foul-smelling pool of water. Both his doctrine and instincts told him not to touch it.

"We're heading to the next supply point!"

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