1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 160: The White Knight's Final Song
On April 1457, 4, under continuous bombardment, the walls of Belgrade finally began to collapse on a large scale. The Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II was overjoyed and ordered the entire army to launch a general offensive.

Five thousand elite Janissary infantry quickly entered the outer city and began to clear out each block.

When the White Knight Hunyadi saw that the bait had been taken, he pushed the kerosene and logs that he had prepared long ago down the outer wall and set them on fire.

Suddenly, raging fire broke out around the city walls, and the flames rising into the sky blocked the road. The Ottoman army could neither advance nor retreat, and could only watch the Janissaries in the city fall into heavy siege.

Seeing that their retreat was blocked, the Janissary soldiers decided to fight to the death, shouting "Long live the Sultan" and charging at the defenders. Even if they died gloriously, they would never let the Sultan bring shame.

On the north bank of the Sava River, the Peasant Crusaders' headquarters.

Due to different beliefs and diverse nationalities, the Peasants' Crusade was divided into several independent military units, which were not subordinate to each other and were stationed in their own tents.

"Bishop, the scouts reported that the Ottoman army on the other side of the river is small in number and has fallen into chaos due to the failure of the siege. They are almost not on guard against us!"

In the headquarters of Grey Cardinal Alexander, a priest hurried forward with fanaticism in his eyes.

"If we take this opportunity to cross the river and attack them, we may be able to completely disrupt the Ottoman army. In the melee, the disadvantages in equipment and troop quality will be minimized!"

Alexander walked out of the tent, looked at the other side, and found that what they said was true.

"Bishop, give the order!"

Alexander was a little hesitant, but he really didn't want to give up this hard-earned opportunity.

"Should we notify Capistrano first?"

"Humph, these Catholics have never taken us seriously. They even blamed us for the appeasement of the Emperor of Constantinople. This is a great opportunity to make achievements. Why should we rely on others?"

Alexander thought for a moment and gritted his teeth.

"The opportunity is fleeting. So, send someone to inform Capistrano and Hunyadi and ask for their follow-up reinforcements."

"Prepare the boats, let's cross the river!"

"For the Holy Father!"

The farmers cheered wildly.

At noon on April 1457, 4, a group of peasant crusaders crossed the Sava River without receiving orders, landed in the weak rear of the Ottoman army, and launched a charge on the well-equipped Ottoman army.

Despite being outnumbered, ragged and poorly equipped, the peasants, inspired by religious sentiment, burst out with great strength and soon defeated the Ottoman army that came to stop them.

Brother Capistrano was overjoyed when he heard the news, and immediately ordered the entire army to attack. Tens of thousands of unorganized and undisciplined peasants crossed the Sava River like headless flies and rushed to the battlefield.

Seeing that the situation was not right, Mehmed II, who was anxiously waiting for the fire to be extinguished by the city wall, hurriedly sent out Sipahi heavy cavalry to support the left wing, trying to drive this group of crazy peasants into the Sava River.

However, when the Sipahi cavalry rushed to the battlefield, they saw only chaos. The peasants had no fixed goals and no unified command. They simply rushed around and killed indiscriminately based on their own passion.

After discovering that the Sipahi cavalry had arrived on the battlefield, the peasants, having found a new target, shouted "Fight for the Lord" and charged towards the cavalry.

The Sipahi cavalry, who were forced into the battlefield, easily broke through several phalanxes and immediately fell into the quagmire of human wave tactics. The peasants seemed to swarm in endlessly, desperately stabbing the powerful enemy with their wooden spears and machetes, venting the pain and anger of hundreds of years.

The Sipahi cavalry were quickly cut off and surrounded by the human sea of ​​the Peasant Crusaders. They were unable to take advantage of the cavalry's impact force and were pulled off their horses and trampled to death in the chaos.

Mehmed II ignored the fire outside the city wall and personally led the remaining Janissary Corps to rescue his left wing and engaged in a bloody battle with the Peasant Crusaders who continued to surround him.

Just when the war situation began to shift towards the Ottoman army, the White Knight Hunyadi's troops finally arrived and dealt a heavy blow to the Ottoman army from the flank, and then fell into an endless melee.

At the critical moment, the last peasant army led by Friar Capistrano crossed the Sava River and went directly to the rear of the Ottoman army, forming a four-sided encirclement.

"Charge! Charge!"

In the crowd, Brother Capistrano put on his armor and mounted his horse, shouting loudly.

"The Lord determines the beginning of the war and the end of the war!"

The armies continued to fight, and the Ottoman army was trapped in a sea of ​​​​rioting militia. In this chaotic situation, weapons, armor, and training level all lost their meaning, and the gap in the quality of the two sides' soldiers was reduced to the lowest.

"Don't retreat, keep killing the enemy!"

Seeing that his army was retreating, Mehmed II shouted anxiously, rushed left and right, and killed a reckless Hungarian knight under his horse.

"Your Majesty the Sultan, this situation is very unfavorable to us. You must retreat!"

The loyal guards guarded the Sultan and protected their king from all the attacks.

"Shut up! Scum!"

Mehmed II shouted loudly.

"I even killed one myself!"

"Your Majesty! You must move to a safe place immediately! This place is too dangerous!"

At this time, the peasants also noticed Mehmed II, who was dressed in luxurious clothes and charging on horseback, and began to attack him.

"The one wearing red and with a long beard is Muhammad!"

In an instant, arrows were fired at once. Muhammad II felt a sharp pain in his thigh, then lost consciousness and fell off his horse.

"Holy Father, bless you! The Turkic Sultan is dead!"

The farmers shouted excitedly, forgetting the pain in their bodies.

The huge camel was finally broken by the last straw, and the Ottoman army fled in all directions, collapsing thousands of miles.

That night, the war commander Mahmoud Pasha, against all odds, led the remaining tens of thousands of soldiers and retreated southward from the city of Belgrade, disappearing without a trace.

At this point, the Battle of Belgrade officially ended. The Ottoman army of 100,000 failed to capture a small castle, but instead lost most of its troops and returned in a hurry. The war left a lot of broken arms and limbs, and the plague that followed quickly attacked the Belgrade military camp, forcing the Crusaders' pursuit plan to end.

"Where is this?"

The White Knight woke up from the nightmare and saw the anxious face of his eldest son Laszlo.

"Father, you have a minor illness and are now on the ship returning home. We have prepared a well-trained doctor for you..."

The White Knight was a little dazed, and his eyes widened when he saw the swaying scenery along the coast.

"Did we win?"

"You win, father, you win!"

Laszlo hugged the White Knight's head, his eyes red.

The White Knight nodded, the light in his eyes gradually dimmed, and his skinny hands drooped limply.

"Father? Father!"

Suddenly, the White Knight seemed to have a last burst of energy, his face flushed, and his eyes were filled with murderous intent.

"Cross the river! Kill the enemy!"

"Father?"

No more sound.

……

At the same time, on the country roads in the Balkans, the remaining Ottoman soldiers lowered their heads and moved southward.

The golden and red flag that once shone so brightly now dimmed and hung limply above the carriage.

In the carriage, Mehmed II, who had just woken up, stared at the sky outside the curtain with empty eyes.

"Mahmood."

"Ok?"

Warmaster Mahmud rode on his horse and pulled open the curtain of the carriage from the side.

"You did the right thing."

"You did the right thing by leading the army back and stopping me from committing suicide."

"You are too kind. Victory and defeat are common in the military. Your territory is prosperous, and you will soon be able to raise a large army again."

"Besides, things haven't reached that point yet. Maybe there will be a turnaround."

Mehmed II nodded and forced a bitter smile on his pale face.

Will there really be a turning point?
"Your Majesty the Sultan!"

A cavalryman came galloping from a distance, with a happy face, and knelt in front of the carriage.

Despite his sick body, Mehmed II opened the curtains, but the glaring sunlight made him frown.

"what's up?"

"The White Knight is dead!"

The messenger said loudly.

The whole army burst into cheers, but Mehmed II did not laugh and waved his hand to stop them.

"He is a great enemy, may Allah protect his soul."

Despite this, his complexion still looked much better.

After a while, another scout came to report.

"Your Majesty, the Peasant Crusade had a conflict over the spoils of war, and they parted ways and disbanded!"

"understood."

This was as it should be. Muhammad II was not too surprised and his face became a little redder.

The scouts seemed to be endless, once again delivering the good news to the Sultan's carriage.

"Your Majesty, Grand Duke Durard passed away. The new Grand Duke Lazar Brankovich immediately expelled Hunyadi and Isaac's envoys and declared his loyalty to you!"

"Good, good, good!"

Mehmed II finally couldn't help laughing, which hurt his wound and made him grimace in pain.

The army continued to move forward, the depressing and gloomy atmosphere was swept away, everyone was talking and laughing, as if the disastrous defeat they had just experienced was just a nightmare.

"His Majesty!"

An anxious voice came from the road ahead, getting closer and closer.

The messenger knelt on the ground in embarrassment, without even having time to catch his breath, and immediately handed the wrinkled letter on his chest to Mehmed II.

"Three days ago, the Greek Emperor Isaac swore an oath of war in Constantinople and marched to Edirne!"

(End of this chapter)