Chapter 197 It’s time to burn this theater down...
The sea in the distance stirs up white waves from time to time.
In front of Garris, there is a small plain, and the coastline can be seen at a glance.
A mighty Turkic cavalry team was like a dark cloud looming over the country. The spear blades in their hands glowed coldly in the winter sun, making people even more frightened.
The mountain wind carried the scent of earth and grass, and it drifted behind Garis, passing through the military formation of hundreds of people, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the faces of those silent warriors.
A person's life is a life of fighting, and every step is intertwined with contradictions and changes.
Everyone should be responsible for his own life and should take up arms and fight until the last breath until victory is achieved.
Garris had promised them victory, and God had sent down His will.
This battle must be won!
"Eternal Lord, King of all creation, since You have blessed me to reach this moment, please forgive me for all the sins I have committed today in my thoughts, words, and deeds."
"Lord, please cleanse my humble soul from all filthiness of body and spirit."
"Lord, please grant me the ability to survive this crisis in peace, so that I can call on your most holy name every day of my life, and defeat all the visible and invisible enemies who fight against us, and trample them on the ground. One step.”
"For to you be the kingdom, the power, and the glory, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, today and forever, forever and ever."
"Amen!"
"Amen!"
This is the last prayer and the prayer that will surely win.
But the battle did not break out, and both sides were waiting for each other's actions.
The location of Garris's army is a bit too good.
Just like the position Nicholas pointed out before, Garris and the others were standing at the mouth of a valley between ridges.
It is narrow here, protected by mountains on both sides, and densely packed with spear-wielding infantry blocking the entrance to the valley.
If the Turks try to attack by force, they will lose more than they gain.
Commanders who want to engage in a full-scale confrontation with the enemy must be careful not to choose terrain that looks perfect.
Because the enemy is not a fool, it is impossible to launch an attack without victory.
As for Garris and the others, they didn't have much time to stand here and waste time with each other.
As time went by, the soldiers would become hungry and thirsty, and the Turks were able to divide their troops and raid the surrounding villages, lighting up flames one after another on the land, and burning the soldiers' hometowns into wasteland.
So Gareth gave up on this seemingly invulnerable piece of prime terrain.
He led several of his infantry brigades forward. With the movement of the army formation, the left side of the Liberation Front infantry formation was exposed and no longer relied on the ridge, but relatively speaking, the right side was relatively safe.
Giving full play to one's own advantages through formations is something that any wise general should think about, so he must conduct various deductions to think about how to use his own advantages.
The actions of Garris and the others were actually seen by Elsaid.
The game on the battlefield always relies on a lot of tacit understanding.
For example, after Garris came out of an absolutely safe defensive position, it actually meant that they wanted to start a war.
But at the same time, Gehrys chose to expose the left wing instead of the right wing, which means that at least Gehrys is not a rookie.
There is no real sense of throwing away the flaws.
In fact, the reason is very simple, because the left hand holds the shield. For infantry formations, it will always be easier to resist attacks from the left wing.
Of course, it is relatively easier to break through from the right wing of an infantry formation.
This is a limited compromise, it depends on whether Elsaid appreciates it.
As far as the results are concerned, when the black spots scattered on the plain gather and mobilize, it means that they have accepted Garris's invitation to fight.
The sea wind became fierce and the flags whistled sharply.
In the distance, the Turks began to move, the sound of horse hooves thundering, pressing heavily on the earth.
At this moment, the world seemed to be condensed in the vibration of the thousands of horses galloping together.
Time seemed to have stood still, and the eyes of history were cast down at this moment, watching their insignificant existence.
The Turks chose a crescent curve to maximize their numerical advantage on the wide terrain.
In terms of shooting efficiency, a long meniscus line can provide higher shooting efficiency, and also relatively thin the thickness of their formation.
When the cavalry were used like a tide, everyone held on to their spears and shields, and their personal strength had never been lower than before.
So much so that if it weren't for the breathing of their comrades beside them, many of them would have turned around and fled.
But there is one person who is different.
The saint from Jerusalem stepped out of the military formation alone early.
Standing a hundred steps away from the mountain.
Behind him were a group of undulating peaks, with hundreds of like-minded warriors standing there.
In front of him was the ocean, and the endless ocean set off black waves.
It is a cloud and a world, a microcosm of the order that dominates the earth.
When the black waves and clouds came, the light was weak and almost invisible.
Gareth became a madman and tried to use his arms as a chariot.
However, history is sacred, because it is history that gave birth to "Christ". After a long period of silence and silence, the Lord finally spoke again, and the holy word of life once again walked on the earth.
The plan for man to become a god is being carried out.
The utopia of imagination is about to become a utopia of reality.
The angels were singing: Glory to the Lord in heaven, and peace to the good on earth.
In this cold season of winter, a warm candle lights up in front of the waves and clouds.
The saint from Jerusalem was facing thousands of armies and fighting against the "King of Terror" who ruled the world.
He was so insignificant, but he seemed to shout those words silently:
"The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe the gospel!"
Gareth moved.
He was not wearing any armor, and all he had in his hand was a giant sword. When the wave of Turks submerged him, there was no movement.
Those cavalrymen seemed to have no influence on Garis. They passed by Garis and subconsciously swung their swords to chop, but they could not touch his shadow. They could only be surrounded by other Turks with expressions of surprise and continued to attack. Forward.
The candlelight of Garris seemed to be extinguished and dimmed.
But in this wave of thousands of troops, he set his sights on the largest military flag.
It was a scarlet crow, spreading disaster to the world and pecking at carrion from corpses.
When the military flag depicting the scarlet crow came close enough.
Time truly stood still.
Elsed felt a little uneasy. This uneasiness could not be explained clearly. He could only attribute it to the battle.
The person who stood in front of the wave before did not bring about any changes.
This seems unreasonable...
Of course, from a common sense perspective, no one should stand alone in front of thousands of troops.
Things that don't make sense must have an explanation.
As he rode and galloped, many things flashed through his mind.
Suddenly, he looked up, and at some point, a man in a white robe appeared in front of him.
The robed man raised his hood at an indescribable speed, exposing his bright blond hair to the sun.
Immediately afterwards, the blond young man raised his giant sword and rushed towards Elsed on foot.
Something is wrong, very wrong!
Because the movements and expression of this man in white robes seemed leisurely, but his speed was nearly ten times faster than mine!
In just a split second, the young man flashed in front of Elsaid.
The giant sword in his hand gently drew a line across the full moon.
Elsaid and his horses were cut into four pieces of flesh and blood.
This is the advantage of the sword. The sword can cause deeper cuts and can split even a mortal in half from head to toe.
An ax won't do it. At most, it can be used to cut the person's head from head to neck and perform a craniotomy.
Elsaid's death was just the beginning, followed by the fall of the scarlet crow flag, and then the deaths of many unnamed people.
For those riders rushing behind, they were frightened.
Because they saw a being who didn't look like a mortal, killing indiscriminately among thousands of troops with only a giant sword in his hand!
As for the light cavalry rushing in front, when they were about to approach the infantry formation, they were about to take out their short bows and shoot arrows.
They saw some thick and short pipes being pushed out from the gaps in the groups.
With a faint thud, a spark ignited the gunpowder in the barrel.
What followed was a loud roar that frightened the horses, and countless iron pellets coming towards them.
The Turks did a stupid thing. They tried to use the horse bows in their hands to shoot at close range with shotguns while riding on their horses...
Moreover, their military flags have fallen down one after another at this juncture, and there is no longer a commander to issue new instructions to them.
Therefore, they are bound to lose.
……
The battle was over, and the thunderous sound of horse hooves had disappeared, replaced by silence, as if the whole world was shrouded in death.
The ground was strewn with the corpses of war horses, and the surroundings were filled with the smell of scorched earth and blood. The air solidified into heavy lead, making people breathless.
A flock of crows descended on this battlefield, pecking at these lifeless bodies, making a horrifying sound of bone cracking.
Some confused soldiers wandered around the battlefield. They seemed to be looking for some souvenirs, but they did not lower their heads to pick up the corpses.
They just showed fear, because the soil under their feet was soaked with blood and sweat and became muddy. Every step seemed like they were walking in hell.
The broken flag fluttered silently in the wind, the afterglow of this deadly battle.
In short, Garris won, even if the victory was extremely difficult, even if many of his soldiers would never be able to open their eyes again and would be buried in the ground.
But they won after all.
The Turks fled, leaving corpses everywhere.
They couldn't understand why someone could dare to face thousands of armies with just a giant sword, and then kill them.
It is also impossible to understand why those thick and short pipes can spit out thunder and flames.
With no one under their command, their morale collapsed easily when the flags fell one by one.
And when this scene of the battlefield spread from mouth to mouth, it spread to all directions in Cyprus. There was a deep crack on the idol of the "King of Terror".
The Turks lost, they lost to a group of peasants who took up arms.
No matter how the Turks defend themselves, what happened to them.
But the bottom line is, they just lost.
Isaac Komnenos was the dictator of Cyprus, relying on military force and personal prestige to maintain his rule.
However, his army was defeated by a group of rebellious farmers, which meant that he was a "paper tiger" weak.
Both farmers and citizens in other areas began to unanimously believe that the government and the army were unable to effectively suppress the uprising.
Just like ringing a bell, the bell itself has no meaning, but it represents that a "Passover" sacrifice is about to begin.
Under the calm sea, countless undercurrents are surging.
In one hall, there are gorgeous mosaics with icons of Christ and portraits of Isaac.
In that art, he seemed to be the reflection of God in the world, with a halo above his head, holy and majestic.
Isaac's courtiers, or so-called elders, were whispering and plotting something.
Trying to make the job you are doing disappear once and for all.
They no longer intend to be actors in this drama.
Today's Cyprus, since Isaac landed on the island, has been like a theater, playing out a drama called "The Roman Empire".
Isaac is the undoubted protagonist, playing the character known as Basilius.
These nobles became supporting actors, imitating the royal court in every aspect, while the Roman peasants and citizens were responsible for playing minor roles and providing the resources needed for this drama.
The Eastern Empire was a fragment of the Roman Empire, and Cyprus became the epitome of the Eastern Empire.
False lines and ridiculous actions are repeated again and again.
In the past, Isaac never tired of doing this, because this was what he longed for, and what he wanted to get throughout his life.
He even decorated his palace with stone bulls and lions, and it was a perfect square from floor to ceiling, with the ceiling in the shape of a pyramid.
Everything there is inlaid with imperial porphyry, and the overall tone is purple.
This is the starting point of "myth" and the reality of destiny.
In this room, Beatrice was facing a bronze mirror. This little guy was sitting stiffly on a luxurious bench, as lifeless as a puppet.
Behind her, standing was Isaac.
Beatrice's hair is being braided with great care.
Isaac's skills are very skilled, unlike that of a middle-aged male aristocrat. Under his careful braiding, a delicate laurel-style hair style is about to be successful.
While braiding his hair, Isaac even hummed a nursery rhyme:
"Beatrice, my little princess, the light of Komnenos shines in your heart."
"Born in a purple chamber, your destiny has been decided. You are the only one in the universe that thrives..."
The winter sea breeze rushed along the window sill and rushed into the "Purple Room" to accompany Isaac's song.
Beatrice, who was praised by the song, did not feel any joy. On the contrary, she felt that the cold wind was about to sink the chill into her bones.
The father behind her is getting more and more crazy.
In the past, Isaac only said that she grew up in the Purple Chamber, but now he emphasizes that she was born in the Purple Chamber.
Both of these are lies, because her life has never been related to the purple room. You must know that just a few months ago, she was still under house arrest by Prince Bosmond of Antioch.
Beatrice finally couldn't bear it any longer, and she asked softly, interrupting Isaac's humming of a nursery rhyme.
Isaac woke up from that sweet dream and felt the piercing pain of the ice pick.
As for Isaac's response to that sentence, it was a crisp slap in the face, and then he fell into a hysterical rage. He smashed all the furniture in the purple room against his daughter crazily.
Previously, Beatrice couldn't help but ask: "It seems our last name shouldn't be Comnenus, right?"
……
The play is coming to an end, this is the consensus of many people, even Isaac's daughter Beatrice feels so.
But the director, protagonist, investor, host of the show... don't think so.
Isaac thought he was going strong all year long and could perform on the stage for decades.
He put on a gorgeous purple robe and called for the captain of his "Varangian" guard, an officer named "Akorotos".
After making a series of instructions, Isaac opened the door of the "Senate".
Isaac walked slowly into the venue, majestic and tired, and seemed to be still immersed in the glory after his "victory in the civil war."
His steps were steady, and his fingers lightly traced the top of an ancient statue. These were the trophies he had collected.
The "seniors" in robes gathered around as usual, some of them had complex expressions and hints of ruthlessness.
One of them first talked in a low voice with Isaac, talking about the peasant rebels.
"Yes, indeed, we can no longer be merciful and must send all those pagan barbarians to their graves."
Just when Isaac was satisfied, suddenly a dagger slipped out of the man's sleeve and stabbed Isaac like a snake. The sharp tip of the blade cut through the robe and pierced in.
Then I heard Isaac scream in response. However, the person who stabbed him did not show joy. Instead, his face suddenly turned pale, and a heavy cold sweat broke out.
"You think I'd say that: Brutus, do you too?"
"Sorry, I don't plan to become Caesar yet, you know, I am Basilius!"
Isaac walked back a few steps back to the gate. After getting away from the "seniors", he took off his purple robe. Under this robe was a set of thick armor.
The thrust of the dagger was useless.
However, as a reward for the betrayal and gift of these "seniors", there was a burst of footsteps, and along with it came the collision of a large number of iron rings.
The emperor's axe-wielding barbarians divided into two groups from Isaac's left and right, rushed into the "Senate", and surrounded many senators.
"Do you think I don't know?"
"Do you think that Basilius could be assassinated by you so easily?"
"It's ridiculous, it's ridiculous!"
"Brutus" in the crowd, who failed in the assassination, looked at Isaac, and looked at Isaac, who had white hair mixed with white hair, and looked older than thirty years old.
At the last moment of his life, what he said was: "You are not Basilius, we are not senators, and you don't even deserve the name of the Komnenos."
"You are just a clown, an actor, a bastard!"
Just as "Brutus" expected, Isaac's face became ferocious after hearing his words. Facing the sharp edge of these words, Isaac fell into an incompetent rage.
"How could you ignore my orders?"
"Coward! Traitor! Idiot!"
"Who do you think you are?!"
"The fact that you are alive today is all my gift!"
"Kill! Kill them all! Leave no one behind!"
After receiving the order, the "Varangi" armed with shields and swords launched a ruthless killing spree.
During this process, these "Varangis" who were not very proficient in Greek seemed to hear someone in the crowd shouting something.
Since the killing order has been issued, the "Varangis", as Isaac said, will kill all these people without leaving any one behind.
Isaac, who had recovered from his rage, only noticed the shouts from the crowd at this time.
In addition to those words cursing myself, there seemed to be a few more words mixed in.
"Basilius! I am loyal to you!"
"Basilius! I told you about their assassination plan!"
"Isaac, you unfaithful son of a bitch, you will go to hell sooner or later like your nameless father!"
However, how to say it?
In short, when Isaac reacted, those "Varangis" had already executed all the senators including the informers.
Isaac stretched out his hand and made a gesture, then stopped talking.
This kind of killing did not satisfy his inner desire, because the real Basilius could not kill his own Senate like him.
He left here in despair, not caring about the looting of his "Senate" by his "Varangi".
Anyway, he is a fake Comnenus, a fake Basilius, those "Varangis" are fake, and the "seniors" are even more fake...
This palace or the empire he ruled were all fake.
After just two failures and two defeats on the battlefield, the actors other than him were not willing to continue to act in this drama.
The sun in the sky was not warm, it just cast a gray light, which reminded him of his true past...
His great-grandfather was John II Comnenus, also known as "John the Beautiful" or "John the Good" and was an orthodox imperial emperor.
His maternal grandfather failed in the competition with his younger brother for the throne because his maternal grandfather was not born in the Purple House, and his maternal grandfather's younger brother was born two and a half months after John II ascended the throne.
Simply because my grandfather's brother Manuel I was born two and a half months after John II ascended the throne.
He received the treatment of being "born in a purple room", became the focus of world attention, and became a destined great man.
Ha~
The Franks would emphasize the inheritance of the eldest son, but the people of the Eastern Empire believed in "born in a purple house." Even Isabella's mother claimed that Isabella was the eldest son on the grounds of "born in a purple house." The first heir.
His grandfather and his younger brother, who was crowned emperor, were full of conflicts, so much so that they finally drew swords against each other.
For this reason, Isaac's mother naturally could not receive any good treatment. She was married to an unknown person, which was a naked humiliation.
"Born in a purple room" became his mother's obsession and was instilled over and over again...
The desire for the throne distorted his family and created vicious people.
For the sake of power, people like them intrigue and perpetuate their hatred from generation to generation.
Is there anything that can end this?
The answer is no, because even if Isaac becomes the real "Basilius", then new hatred will be born from his descendants.
In order to fight for power, the so-called family affection is nothing more than bullshit and a fig leaf.
"It's time to burn this theater down..."
Isaac turned around, glanced at the "Varangis" who were reveling in their loot, stood up from the ground, and looked in the direction of the self-proclaimed "Saint of Jerusalem".
Recommend a book by PY.
Secondly, it’s the end of the month, please give me some monthly passes!
Today’s chapters are more than usual
(End of chapter)