Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks

Chapter 732

As Giovanni had anticipated, the central segment of the city walls faced the fiercest assaults.

Due to its location in the Lex River valley region, these walls were relatively low, and after days of relentless Ottoman attacks, the moats had been filled, and the first low wall had been breached, making it easier to ascend than in other areas.

Fortunately, the central section of the walls was the first to spot the enemy, and the Emperor quickly dispatched the Imperial Guard to assist in the defense. Although the balance of the battle had tilted toward the enemy, the defenders had not been scattered but had instead formed resilient combat groups to block the enemy in the narrow passages.

As time passed, the towers on the second and third walls also began to support the front lines. The Ottomans occupied several towers, intending to use them for long-range support from above, but were quickly shot by the Imperial Guard positioned on the second wall.

These could be considered the finest armored archers of the era, the last glow of the nomads' Imperial Guard, all carefully selected elite by Losa. The sound of arrows hitting the armor plates was unceasing, and even amidst the nighttime rain, they managed to hit most of their targets.

By this time, the emperor's purple robe over the Holy Cross Plate Armor was soaked with blood and rain, and a mound of corpses lay at his feet.

The enemies besieging him crowded the entire wall, countless Janissaries charging toward the Imperial Banner, attempting to break it. Yet, even when the Janissaries on the wall had almost been cleared, the Emperor stood unwavering.

Even though the Janissaries had taken forbidden drugs, this sight struck fear into their hearts. For a moment, these warriors reputed for their fearlessness hesitated to approach the figure with their shields.

"Advance!"

"Those who retreat will die!"

Ibrahim Pasha roared, having once been a trusted confidant of the Grand Vizier Kandari Halil who advocated peace with European countries. But now, with the new sovereign's ascension, the Grand Vizier's faction had become a ship on the brink of capsizing.

To jump ship in time, he needed to prove his loyalty to the new sovereign.

He knew very well the fate that awaited him if he reported back with news of failure.

The Janissaries, living up to their reputation as the strongest army of the time, regrouped quickly with their enhanced power from forbidden drugs for a new wave of attacks.

Whiz.

Venetian crossbowmen, positioned high, rained down arrows on the enemy, the crossbow bolts clinking against their helmets. Occasionally, someone was hit in a vital spot and fell, trampled underfoot by comrades.

But more Janissaries, despite being pierced like porcupines, arms severed, or eyes blinded, fought fiercely without retreating even a step, like devils from hell.

If not for the Emperor's Imperial Banner, standing as promised, the first wall might have long been taken by the Ottomans.

"Protect His Majesty!"

A team of Venetian mercenaries finally arrived to support Losa. By this time, most of the Emperor's personal guards had perished.

This Venetian mercenary force had just formed a formation when they felt the Ottoman onslaught crashing like waves upon their shield wall. Each shield-bearing arm trembled, and they couldn't help but be awed by the Greek Emperor who had survived such an onslaught without retreating a single step.

How did he manage it?

Could it be that he was truly favored by the gods?

Suddenly, in front of the shield formation, the Janissaries parted to make way for a giant over two meters tall, wearing a spiked helmet, wielding a massive warhammer as tall as a person, and stepping out boldly.

With a swift swing, he brought down the hammer with a force like an earthquake upon the shield wall.

The Venetian soldier holding up the shield was sent flying, his shield shattered to pieces, his arm breaking with a cracking sound, exposing white bones, blood gushing from his mouth and nose as he fell dead.

Amid the Ottomans' excited cheers, the giant Janissary laughed as he raised the warhammer again...

Though Janissaries were also translated as the Imperial Guard, under Mahmud II's command there was a true Imperial Guard core he trusted most, not inherited from his father Murad II.

Mahmud II invested greatly in this inner circle, many of whom had consumed various magic potions, possessing extraordinary strength.

This giant Janissary wielding a two-handed warhammer was clearly among them.

"Your Majesty, perhaps we should retreat."

The mercenaries complained bitterly. Though called mercenaries, they were actually Crusaders who volunteered to fight, naturally stronger than ordinary Greek militia but unable to stand against such formidable foes.

"No, I said there would be no retreat."

The Emperor pushed aside the Venetian mercenaries around him, holding his sword with both hands, stepped out from the gap in the shield formation. Without any visible action, the Janissary who had just displayed mighty prowess, waving his hammer like a giant, suddenly stiffened.

The iron-helmeted head rolled off with a clattering sound, blood spurting vehemently from the headless neck cavity.