1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 405 Winter Security War

The cold wind from the north blew across the plains of Anatolia, bringing with it ice, snow, mixed with blood and gunpowder. The turbulent year of 1478 finally passed, and the bells of 1479 rang in the cold winter.

Over the past year, the Eastern Roman Empire has assembled an army of more than 100,000 and launched an eastward campaign towards Anatolia in three directions, successfully occupying the southern coast including the cities of Adana and Antalya and the plateau territory including the cities of Ankara and Konya, with a registered population of nearly nine million.

For the Muslims in Anatolia, the past 1478 was another year of sorrow and despair. The Eastern Roman Empire did not extend any olive branches to them because of the large Muslim population base, and still resolutely implemented the violent means that had been determined since the beginning of the revival. Even if it required a lot of money, they had to eliminate the unstable elements in the core territories. Except for the city of Ankara which was completely destroyed by its own people, Konya, Antalya, Adana... this series of large cities were shrouded in "purple terror". The more valuable young and middle-aged labor force was arrested as slaves, and the rest of the people were subjected to rounds of purges and massacres.

At the same time, the Eastward Movement was in full swing. The armed reclamation groups of the Eastern Roman Empire moved from west to east, enclosing Muslim farmlands and villages, establishing large farms and pastures, and driving those Muslim peasants who had little resistance eastward, forcing them onto a "Road of Blood and Tears" with the bloodiest and most brutal acts of violence.

As for the relatively strong, organized and disciplined eastern Muslim nomadic tribes, they abided by their ancestral rules and began to migrate to the warm south before the cold winter came. Their resistance to harsh environments was much worse than that of farming groups. As long as there was not enough pasture, the sheep and cattle could not survive for long. This was their most important means of survival. When a tribe lost its pasture, its lifespan began to countdown.

However, when they excitedly arrived at the winter pasture, they saw only a mess. The once excellent pasture had turned yellow and black, as if cursed by God. Hungry cattle and sheep were wailing on the wasteland, and the shocked herdsmen were at a loss.

For the nomadic tribes, this was a horrifying scene they had never seen before. Large tracts of grassland fell into silence without any warning. There were no signs of burning, and it didn't seem like other tribes had got there first. They dug up the soil in the hope of getting away with it, only to find that even the grass roots had not survived. Even if they could hold on for a month, nothing would grow here.

In order to survive, some nomadic tribes immediately began looting. They rushed towards the rich villages, hoping to get food for the winter from the farming groups.

However, their hopes were still dashed. In the most fertile fields, the wheat and vegetables that had been growing vigorously were also taken away by the evil spirits. The farmers cried on the ridges of the fields, not knowing how to feed their wives and children.

Compared to grasslands, the Eastern Roman Empire's attack on farmland was more thorough. It was impossible to destroy all the grasslands in the mountains with just the combination of gypsy tribes and fast cavalry. They could only choose the best ones for targeted destruction. But farmland was different. Large tracts of farmland were only distributed outside large cities and villages, and were much easier to destroy.

At the same time, rumors spread rapidly. Some jurists hired by the Eastern Roman Empire began to promote the "Muslim original sin theory", believing that Allah had abandoned them, that the Prophet Muhammad was the biggest liar in the world, and that only Jesus Christ was the only savior. If they were unwilling to convert, the winter of the next year would still be full of despair.

Hunger and cold created panic. The cruel pressure of survival pushed the Muslims in eastern Asia Minor to kill each other. Herders competed with each other for the remaining inferior pastures, and herders and farmers competed for food for the winter. They also wielded their butcher knives against the fleeing refugees, believing that they had brought endless disasters.

Chaos, famine, severe cold, killing... social order was destroyed, internal conflicts rapidly intensified, Muslim rulers locked their food tightly in warehouses in cities and castles, death became commonplace, and cannibalism occurred everywhere.

In order to make the famine in eastern Asia Minor more severe, the Eastern Roman Empire took a series of targeted measures. The Imperial Ministry of Commerce strictly prohibited any Eastern Roman merchant from selling even a grain of food to any Muslim gathering area. Once discovered, they would be immediately executed. The grain trading company controlled by the royal family also took action immediately, buying up all the mobile grain in Egypt and the Levant at a higher price. Even if it was poured into the sea, Muslim merchants would never be allowed to send it to the famine-stricken areas in the north.

As for the Aries Dynasty, they were not affected much, but the civil war that lasted for a year had caused serious damage to rural society. Aries merchants did not dare to transport precious food to the disaster area - the hungry people had little purchasing power, and as long as you dared to go, they would dare to rob you.

In the central and western parts of the Anatolian Plateau, the severe winter also swept across grasslands and farmlands. The series of destruction brought by the Turkish monarchs and the Eastern Roman army caused the collapse of the rural production system here. Muslim refugees hiding in the mountains were forced to leave the mountains in search of food. Some people managed to survive, but more people succumbed to the cold and hunger of the winter.

Northeast of Ankara, south of Mount Kıroglu, a large river flows from south to north. It is the flood season, and the cold river water beats against the river bank, causing waves.

This is the Halys River, the largest river in the Anatolian Plateau. It originates in the northeastern part of the plateau, first flows from east to west, then turns from south to north, passes through the Pontic Mountains, and flows into the Black Sea, forming an estuary delta in Sinop and Samsun. Since ancient times, it has provided drinking water and irrigation for the people on both sides of the river. It was once the "mother river" of the Hittites.

Because the upper reaches of the Haris River are mostly reddish-brown soil rich in iron, the Turks called it "Kizil River", which means "Red River". In early 1479, the Eastern Roman Empire and the Ottoman Sultanate drew a boundary roughly along the Haris River. The west of the river was controlled by the Eastern Roman Empire, and the east of the river was still under the control of Bayezid II and the nomadic tribes.

The winter sun hung bleakly in the sky. In the south of Mount Keroglu, in a triangular area formed by the Haris River and its tributaries, a large ranch welcomed a new day.

The ranch covers a very large area, including the land west of the main stream, north of the tributaries, and south of the hill. To the west of the ranch is the small town of Paon, a livestock town built on the ruins of an Ottoman village.

It was morning and the ranch was waking up from sleep. The female workers began to milk, collect eggs and prepare breakfast. The cowboys yawned and left the dormitory. They went to the basin to wash their faces, whistled to the female workers, checked the fences and stables, and returned to the open space in front of the dormitory to chat while waiting for the breakfast which was not delicious but definitely filling.

Their clothes were very peculiar, with fur coats and quilted overalls on the outside, leather belts around their waists, wide-brimmed cowboy hats on their heads, and leather boots with spurs on their feet. They looked a little dirty, but the fabric was obviously of good quality, at least very wear-resistant.

Over the years, under the leadership of the Eastern Roman royal family, the Eastern Roman Empire launched a clothing reform, advocating the redesign of traditional Eastern Roman clothing such as the toga, dalmatica, parudamentom and penula, which were "long robes with wide sleeves", to be more similar to military uniforms, with "slimming", "symmetry" and "waist-tightening" as the main aesthetic goals, and convenience of movement as the main purpose, making it simple and capable.

Therefore, the Royal Textile Group designed a number of new clothing according to the instructions of the Grand Palace, including various military uniforms, formal wear and various work clothes. The long windbreaker evolved from the dragoon uniform soon became popular among upper-class gentlemen, and the canvas denim suit evolved from dock work clothes also quickly became popular in the Anatolian Peninsula and became one of the symbols of the Eastward Movement.

The women brought out steaming stew and bread, and each cowboy was given a glass of amber drink. They sat around on the ground, with the blue sky above their heads, and ate quickly.

"Beetroot soup and kvass again. Does our Knight like Russian food so much?"

A new cowboy complained, sipping the slightly sour kvass.

“In my hometown of Thessalonica, everyone can eat the freshest fish.”

"Come on, you're new here, it's good to have something to eat."

A deep voice sounded. It was that of an old cowboy, a retired soldier.

"Mr. Knight fought in the Cossack steppes in his early years and got separated from his troops. When he was about to starve to death on the snowy plains, a Russian couple saved him with borscht. From then on, he fell in love with Russian vegetables."

"Fill your damn tummies quick, we might have to go out."

"No need to graze today, just feed some hay and wait for Mr. Knight to come back!"

The veteran was obviously their manager, and the cowboys no longer questioned him and swallowed the food in front of them without hesitation.

After dinner, some people smoked, some played cards, and the unlucky guys who lost the gambling game last night complained while working in the barn, shoveling manure, adding water, and adding grass...

The retired soldier took out some chewing tobacco and while chewing, he wiped his rifle, which was a short-barreled spring-loaded rifle with the emblem of the Ares Group engraved on the gun.

"Ha! A Gibraltar!"

The veteran looked up and saw a cowboy proudly pulling out a card from a high-end cigarette box and showing it off to his companions.

On the card, rough black printed lines outline Gibraltar's landmark building, the British Fortress.

"This is a rare card. Just based on this card, this pack of Roman cigarettes is worth buying!"

The veteran withdrew his gaze with lack of interest. He was already very old and had no interest in these cigarette cards that young people loved to play with.

He knew that cigarette cards were free gifts for high-end cigarettes and were well received once they were launched. This "Gibraltar" was a rare card from the "Majestic City of Rome" set and could be sold at a high price in the club. There were many sets that were more valuable than it, such as the "Olympus" set depicting the ancient Greek gods and the "Sunny Land" set depicting the major colonies.

The veteran ignored the young cowboy who was exchanging cards and slowly loaded his musket with ammunition. It was a spring-loaded thunder gun produced by Ares Military Industry Group. It fired small shotgun shells and had a considerable advantage in close combat.

After loading four rifles in succession, the veteran stood up, put the four short-barreled rifles into the gun pouches on his waist, and began to sharpen his cavalry sword.

"Mr. Agrippa, are we going to war?"

A cowboy saw what Agrippa was doing and was shocked.

"Do you need us to go to the warehouse to get the gunpowder cans?"

"Maybe there will be a war, maybe not."

The veteran Agrippa said calmly.

"I'm just used to it."

Despite this, the cowboys took action and went to the warehouse to prepare their weapons. The sounds of busyness and quarrels rang out in the warehouse.

Agrippa made the final preparations, went to the stable to lead out his horse, leaned against the railing of the pasture, lit a cigarette, and waited for his master to return.

Agrippa knew that the rancher was a retired military officer who went to Brazil to pan for gold after his discharge. A few years ago, he returned to the empire with a large sum of money, made some investments in major Aegean cities, and then bought this ranch, hired cowboys, and raised cattle and sheep.

The rancher was a man with great charisma. The unruly eastern pioneers on the ranch were all very respectful to him. Every early morning, when the cowboys were still asleep, the rancher would wake up early, ride his warhorse, and patrol his territory like a lion.

The ranchers had the honorary title of Imperial Knight, which was the lowest rank in the aristocratic system of the Eastern Roman Empire, but it could also only be obtained through military merit. Naturally, its value was higher than that of the "Lord" of civil servants, gentry or capitalists.

Of course, the "Imperial Knights" that appeared in the Eastern Roman Empire in recent decades were an extension of the knight class of the Roman Monarchy and the Ancient Roman Republic. Unlike the knights of Western Europe, the Imperial Knights could own private land but had no local ruling power, and the people living on their land were hired farmers or laborers, not subjects or vassals.

The sun shone on the snow, and a four-wheeled carriage slowly approached, followed by a rider. The rider's waist was also full of short-barreled muskets, and a long-barreled musket was hung on the saddle.

"Knight Norton is back, come and wait!"

Agrippa yelled at the warehouse and corral, and soon more than two dozen cowboys all came running over, waiting for the rancher's return.

The sound of horses neighing came from afar and gradually approached. The carriage stopped at the gate of the manor. The rider behind it dismounted and nodded to the cowboys, looking quite satisfied.

"Very good, Agrippa."

Norton walked up and patted Agrippa on the shoulder.

"You've taken good care of them."

"Mr. Knight, everything is ready."

Agrippa said simply.

"What are you going to do today?"

Norton didn't say it directly, but pointed to the two people, one big and one small, who got off the carriage.

"This is Mr. Rogers from England. He graduated from Eton College and once helped the Spencer family manage livestock affairs. He has a lot of experience."

Norton pointed at the well-dressed Englishman.

"From now on, he is the livestock manager of the Red River Ranch. He will be in charge of all matters concerning cattle and sheep."

Rogers bowed slightly to everyone, then stood aside and stopped talking.

"This... This is an orphan I found outside of Paon Town. He was almost frozen to death in the snow, and I saved him."

Norton looked again at the half-grown child standing uncomfortably beside the carriage.

"He speaks Greek, but used to believe in the liar Prophet Muhammad, and neither side likes him."

“Now, he is also a member of the ranch.”

“Hire laborers, or family members?”

Agrippa glanced at the half-grown child and asked Norton.

"I don't think he's any use."

"No, no, no, dear Agrippa, this child lay in the snow all night, and he still came to me alive for help. This is God's will."

Norton crossed himself and turned to the boy.

"If you just want a short-term job, I can give it to you, but if you want to stay here forever and become part of my family, you're going to have to suffer a little bit."

“Stay here forever.”

The half-grown child said softly.

"I will treat you like a father."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, kid."

Norton nodded and pouted at Agrippa.

Agrippa understood, went into the woodshed, picked up a branding pole, and heated it red over the fire.

Two cowboys came up, unbuttoned the boy's shirt, and gave him another bottle of strong wine.

Agrippa walked towards the boy with a red-hot branding pole. A trace of fear flashed in the boy's eyes, but then he gritted his teeth and drank the wine.

Squeak——

The hot iron left a mark on the boy's chest, a cursive Greek letter "KAPA," the emblem of Red River Ranch.

The half-grown child was still awake and gave Norton a forced smile.

The cowboys watching cheered and ripped open their shirts, revealing the branding on their chests.

"Very good, from now on, you are my family."

"Red River Ranch is the largest private ranch in this area. You're going to love it here."

Norton nodded slightly, pulled a bottle of potion from his saddle bag and handed it to the half-grown child.

"Go to the dormitory and rest. In the next few days, someone will teach you how to live like a true Eastern pioneer."

Two female workers came forward and helped the half-grown children back to the dormitory. The Englishman Rogers also bowed and said goodbye. In the open space, Norton glanced at the cowboys.

"Okay, boys, now that we have dealt with the trivial matters, it's time to do the big things."

"I just went to Paon Town. The sheriff is calling us. As citizens of the Empire, we can't not go!"

Norton climbed onto his horse and put on his cowboy hat.

"Get on your horses, grab your swords and muskets, and follow me!"

More than twenty riders soon set out on their journey. As to what they were going to do, Norton did not say, and the cowboys did not ask.

They followed the traces of the carriage westward and soon arrived outside the town of Paon.

The town of Paon is a typical Anatolian livestock town, surrounded by large pastures. Most of the residents in the town are engaged in meat processing, dairy processing and commodity trading. The merchants in the town will transport large amounts of wool, meat and dairy products to the northern province of Paphlagonia by horse-drawn carriages, and then transport them to all parts of the country through the port.

Winter is the peak season for commodity trade in Paang Town. Although there is snow on the roads, the cold weather also greatly extends the shelf life of meat and dairy products. If they are made into dried meat or bacon, they can even be stored for more than a month.

More than two hundred riders gathered outside the town of Paon. Judging from their attire, most of them were a combination of ranchers and cowboys. The town's sheriff was talking loudly with the ranchers.

Norton's arrival calmed the atmosphere a little, and the other ranchers did not dare to be too presumptuous in front of this retired officer and the Imperial Knight.

"Knight Norton, you are finally here!"

The sheriff stepped forward cheerfully and bowed slightly to Norton.

"As for the Saracen village in the north, the time we gave them to consider the matter has long expired, but they still haven't taken the initiative to be baptized and are still making the pilgrimage to Mecca."

"Their harvest has failed, and they are starving and gnawing on tree bark. If we don't do anything, they might rob our caravan."

"I plan to organize all the ranches and get rid of those pigs in one fell swoop."

"I know. You said that this morning."

Norton nodded, thinking.

"However, the town of Paon no longer belongs to the province of Paphlagonia. It now belongs to the province of North Galatia."

“What does the new government say?”

In order to consolidate the newly occupied areas on the Anatolian Plateau as soon as possible, the Eastern Roman Empire quickly made administrative plans and divided the Galata Province of the ancient Roman Empire into two. The South Galata Province was located north of the Middle Taurus Mountains, including the Tuz Salt Lake, with Konya as its capital. The North Galata Province was located south of the Paphlagonia Province, east of the Asia Province, north of the Tuz Salt Lake, and west of the Halys River, with Ankara as its capital.

The town of Paon was founded in early 1475 by pioneers from the north. It was originally under the jurisdiction of the northern province of Paphlagonia. A shooting corps was once stationed in the fortress south of the town to deal with nomadic invasions from the Ottoman Sultanate.

After the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II burned down Ankara, the North Galata Province was established. The town of Paon and several surrounding livestock towns were all assigned to the North Galata Province. However, since the city of Ankara had long been reduced to ruins and the administrative agencies had not yet been fully established, these border villages and towns were still accustomed to trading with the Paphlagonia Province.

"The North Galatian government? It's just an empty shell at the moment."

The sheriff shook his head incredulously.

"Ankara was destroyed, the population of the citizens of the northern Galata province was less than 30,000, and a large number of Saracens were roaming the countryside."

"The situation in South Galata is slightly better. Some Orthodox Christians who originally lived in Cappadocia moved to the vicinity of Konya, but the number of Saracens is still large."

"The government is divided, and the church is divided. Some so-called moderate officials and moderate priests hope to be lenient with the Saracens, achieve stability, and resume agricultural production as soon as possible."

"The Minister of Education, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the Bishop of Athens all had this idea, but Queen Isabella was adamantly opposed and tried to prohibit any Saracens from living as free men in the core provinces."

"I see. It's another political struggle."

Norton curled his lips.

"Then what do you think?"

"Humph, I certainly won't give those pigs a good look."

The Sheriff snorted.

"It's cold in winter, and not many people can hide in the mountains. This is a good opportunity for us to wipe out the Saracens. Kill 2,000, capture 3,000, starve 5,000, and freeze 5,000. We can continue next winter."

"If this continues, within five years, most of the Saracens in this area will be dead."

"Oh, what a bold executioner."

Norton teased.

“If the government is held accountable, what are you going to do?”

"How can I be held accountable? I haven't broken any law."

The Sheriff shook his head.

"This is what General Gonzalo meant. The tens of thousands of troops he led are also continuing to sweep the Saracen strongholds. If the emperor hadn't transferred some soldiers to the southeast, he wouldn't have needed us."

"Some hungry people were looting everywhere, and some even set their sights on the military supply warehouses. The general was very angry."

"The regular army is in charge of the large strongholds, and these scattered villages are up to us."

"And what did he say, Your Majesty?"

Norton asked. "I know the Crown Prince is definitely on the side of the General, but he is not the Emperor after all."

"Your Majesty has made both North Galatia and South Galatia core provinces. His opinion is clear."

The sheriff said.

"Remember? In the core provinces, following the deceiver Muhammad is illegal, either slavery or death."

The sheriff thought about it and looked at Norton.

"Are you afraid?"

"Scared? Ha!"

Norton smiled contemptuously.

"Have you forgotten which legion I served in before? The Abaddon Regiment of the Royal Guards Dragoons, the Locust Regiment. We destroyed hundreds of Saracen villages and towns, and tens of thousands of Saracens died in our hands."

"Since you want me to join, then give me the command. I don't trust anyone else, including you."

"Okay, this position was originally reserved for you."

The sheriff nodded.

"The first target is not far from Paon Town. If you need anything, you can ask now."

Norton's joining gave the rancher more confidence. He was the largest landowner in the area and also the most experienced veteran officer.

"The rest is not really needed. Everyone has brought weapons."

Norton looked around and saw that the ranchers and cowboys were all fully armed, and many of them had brought their own hound teams.

"Didn't you say this morning that you had some secret weapons? Take them all out."

The sheriff smiled, led everyone to a large carriage and lifted the rain cover.

The carriage was filled with long pottery jars with wet cloth strips stuffed in their mouths. A peculiar aroma of wine wafted into everyone's nose.

"Knight Norton, since you are a retired officer of the Abaddon Regiment, you must be familiar with this kind of thing?"

The sheriff looked at Norton and said with some pride.

"It is said that Abaddon's locust army likes this weapon the most."

“Constantine cocktail.”

Norton recognized the incendiary weapon immediately, picked up a bottle, uncorked it, and smelled it.

"It seems to be a little different from what we used at the beginning."

"Yes, compared to your time, some improvements have been made and many things have been added. They are all good military stuff. General Gonzalo sent people to every livestock town."

The sheriff nodded.

"In addition to strong liquor, turpentine, syrup, egg white and baking soda are also added to greatly enhance the adhesion, making it extremely difficult to extinguish once ignited."

"Using this thing to burn down a village, it's incredibly efficient."

As he said this, the sheriff slapped a cowboy in the face who was holding up a clay pot and sniffing it with great greed.

"You bastards, watch your mouth, you can't drink this!"

"It's all crude alcohol brewed from raw sorghum. It's not purified, and a lot of things are added. If anyone wants to die, just tell me and I can give him a lead bullet!"

The cowboys withdrew their hands regretfully, while Norton stroked his Constantine cocktail and looked at the sheriff.

"What about the quantity?"

"There are only a little over a hundred for now, but the officer who came last time also said that they will continue to distribute them based on the results of the battle. There will definitely be enough."

The sheriff said.

"Although the emperor did not say it explicitly, he definitely supports this sweep. All the breweries controlled by the royal family are working overtime to make Constantine cocktails. This weapon will be the absolute main force in this security war."

"enough."

Norton said simply.

"Then let's go now. You are responsible for leading the way."

The sheriff blew a whistle, and the cowboys took action. Hundreds of people rode on their horses and set out on the road to the north, raising clouds of snow and dust.

The cowboys from the Red River Ranch walked at the end, responsible for guarding the carriage loaded with Constantine cocktails. Cotton wool was piled between the bottles and cans, which could effectively alleviate the vibration caused by the bumpy ride.

"Knight, are you serious this time?"

Agrippa came forward and asked in a low voice.

"I didn't even have time to put on my armor!"

"No need. Our opponents are just some peasants. They don't have much fighting power. They probably don't even have many swords, let alone armor and muskets."

Norton said simply.

"It depends. In fact, it is enough to burn down their villages and granaries with Constantine cocktails. In this season, farmers who lose their shelters will not survive for long."

Norton thought for a moment, took the long-barreled musket from the saddle, and handed it to Agrippa.

"What a gun!"

Agrippa took the musket, looked at it over and over again, and couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

"Which arsenal produced it?"

"Ares Military Industrial Group is the private arsenal in Adrianople."

Norton said.

"As you know, their spring-loaded wheel guns are assembled in modular form. They are cheap in quantity but poor in quality. Their range, power and accuracy are all very poor. They do not meet military standards. They are originally used for family self-defense, and only plantation owners and cowboys like them."

"This gun is different. It's called 'Eastern Watch'. It's a commemorative gun made by the Ares Group specifically for the Eastward Movement. It uses the best parts and is handcrafted by skilled craftsmen. It's very valuable. There are only 100 of them in total."

Norton introduced the famous gun that he had bought at a high price.

"Look at the muzzle of the gun, did you notice anything?"

Agrippa looked closely at the muzzle of the gun, his eyes lighting up.

"Spiral rifling?"

"Yes, it's a good thing invented by Western Europeans. Straight rifling can speed up loading, and spiral rifling can improve accuracy!"

Norton said.

“Spiral rifling is extremely difficult to machine, which is the main reason why the Eastern Watch is so expensive.”

"I know you're a good shooter, I'll lend it to you!"

Agrippa nodded and began loading the Eastern Watch with gunpowder.

Rifling is a firearm modification that can effectively improve shooting efficiency. Straight rifling first appeared in Germany in the early 15th century, and spiral rifling appeared in Northern Italy in the late 15th century. Because carving spiral rifling is time-consuming and labor-intensive, rifles with rifling are expensive and cannot be promoted on a large scale for the time being.

The two stopped talking, and the cowboys rushed towards their destination noisily. They went around a hill and entered a valley, where a large Muslim village appeared at their feet.

"It's a really nice place. The surrounding hillsides can block the wind, and the flowing stream can provide irrigation. No wonder they don't want to leave."

Agrippa looked at the village and smiled.

"how to spell?"

The cowboys stopped outside the valley, and Norton raised his military binoculars and looked at the village below.

"No wonder we can't afford to eat. Many refugees have poured in..."

Norton muttered.

"Okay, they've started building a camp. It looks like they really intend to fight us to the end..."

The power of the village was obviously controlled by several jurists who had fled here. They sheltered some refugees and organized people to reclaim wasteland, build trenches, wooden walls and watchtowers. In the open space, craftsmen were making simple hunting bows and slingshots. They could not get pig iron and could only make self-defense weapons in this primitive way.

"How's it going, Norton?"

The sheriff rode up on horseback.

"Including the refugees, there are probably more than 400 people. Do you want to go and talk first?"

"I think it's not necessary."

Norton handed the telescope to the sheriff with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"They were getting ready to pray."

By the stream, jurisprudence scholars were leading Muslims in preparing for religious activities. They had no mosques, so they could only use stream water to clean their bodies and face the holy city of Mecca to perform the simplest prayers.

"A bunch of bastards with no credibility!"

The Sheriff cursed.

"They clearly promised to convert before!"

"Kill them now!"

"No, wait a minute."

Norton lit a cigarette, squinted his eyes, looked at the sky, and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke.

"This is their midday ceremony. We are still a little short of time. We will launch the attack once all of them are here."

Next, Norton began to arrange military affairs. He quickly pointed out one rancher after another, placed their cowboys on the commanding heights on the hillsides on both sides, and distributed Constantine cocktails to them in an orderly manner.

To ensure that everything went smoothly, Norton also arranged for a dozen cowboys to take a small path to the back of the valley to completely block the Muslims' retreat.

Norton patrolled between the attack teams, checking their muskets, crossbows and Constantine cocktails, and gradually regained the feeling of the past.

"How's it going? It's about forty Roman steps away. Can you hit it accurately?"

Norton came to the edge of a jungle, where Agrippa was holding the "Eastern Watch" with the muzzle pointed directly at the most well-dressed scholar of jurisprudence.

"Almost. This gun is good."

Agrippa smiled.

"It's going to be a fixed target later, isn't it?"

"Try to shoot as accurately as possible. The sound of your gunshot is the signal. Don't bring shame to Red River Ranch."

Norton patted Agrippa on the shoulder, knelt down beside him, and raised the telescope.

As the sun rose into the sky, the Muslim midday prayer began. In the villages and refugee camps, Turkic Muslims walked to the open space in twos and threes, washed their mouths and noses with stream water, and prostrated themselves on the ground under the guidance of jurisprudence scholars, gathering in a group.

At this time, the mountains on both sides where the Muslims and cowboys were ambushing were very close, but everyone was praying devoutly towards Mecca in the southeast, and no one noticed the murderous intentions hidden on both sides.

"It is said that Muhammad met with the so-called God and changed his daily prayers from 50 to 5. Every devout Muslim will pray tens of thousands of times in his lifetime."

Norton muttered to himself as he watched the Muslim ceremony.

"Hehe... This is their last time."

“All praise is due to Allah, and peace be upon Him…”

The Muslims prayed devoutly, as if only by doing so could they survive this hungry and cold winter.

"I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah..."

"May God bless us--"

boom--

The spring drove the wheel, rubbing against the yellow iron sheet, sparks splashed onto the medicine warehouse, and the roar of the Eastern Watch echoed through the valley.

The large, hot lead bullet slid through the air and shot into the chest of the jurist. The jurist whimpered and then fell silent.

"kill!"

Norton stood up and yelled loudly. The cowboys raised their Constantine cocktails, ignited the strips of cloth with torches, and threw them hard at the crowd below.

bang-bang-bang-

The sound of pottery jars breaking rang out one after another, and a strong flame rose up. The thickened combustible agent attached to the bodies of the Turks. They rolled on the ground in pain, but could not put out the flames.

"They surrounded the camp of the saints, and the beloved city; and fire came down from heaven and devoured them."

Norton looked expressionlessly at the pagans perishing in the flames, reciting verses from the Bible.

"They have deceived too many times and have lost their last chance. Keep shooting and leave no one alive!"

The muskets continued to roar, bullets rained from the sky. Norton was worthy of his military background. The barrage of bullets on both sides covered all blind spots. The Muslims fled to the houses, but the houses were also on fire.

"Well fought, Agrippa."

Norton looked at Agrippa, who had a calm expression.

"You are worthy of the title of the Holy Warrior of Constantinople."

"Alas, it's still not allowed. I wanted to hit the head..."

Agrippa shrugged and handed the Eastern Watch back to Norton.

"I'll go get the horses ready. Once the fire is out, I still have to go down and finish it off."

When Norton and the cowboys rode into the valley on horseback, the open space that was just crowded with people was now filled with charred corpses. The lucky ones who had escaped by the creek fled to the back of the valley, but they only saw the cowboys with playful faces, and another burst of gunfire.

Norton stepped on the corpses and walked towards the still burning village, but he heard faint cries for help under his feet.

Norton took a look and vaguely recognized the owner's appearance from the half-burnt face. This was a wealthy man in the village. Last winter, when Norton and the sheriff came together, the wealthy man patted his chest and told them that he would definitely lead the whole village to convert and would never rebel again.

"ended."

Norton drew his sword and stabbed him hard, ending his life.

……

In early 1479, heavy snow fell in Anatolia, and the large-scale war came to an end. The four new provinces of the Eastern Roman Empire started the winter security war. Regular troops, local troops, militia, cowboys, armed reclamation groups... all large and small military forces were mobilized to carry out large-scale clearing activities against Muslim strongholds in the vast countryside, destroying all remaining infrastructure and confiscating all food from Muslim villages. Even if they could not take it away, they would burn it.

Although the Grand Palace did not issue any massacre order, it still provided a large amount of supplies for the winter security war. The Constantine cocktail showed its great power in this security war, creating huge destructive power at a tiny cost. A large number of villages disappeared in the flames, a large number of towns were burned to ashes, and a large number of Turkic Muslims were left homeless and froze to death in the winter wilderness.

In just one and a half months, the North Galata Province, where the largest number of cowboys lived, lost almost all of its cities, three-quarters of its towns and two-thirds of its villages. The Eastern Roman pioneers continued the destruction laid by the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II, bringing endless destruction to the entire land.

In just one and a half months, the number of Muslims who died directly at the hands of the Eastern Roman Empire in the four new provinces exceeded 100,000, and countless others starved to death or froze to death. The price of slaves was so low that except for the most valuable young and middle-aged men, no one else was even qualified to be a slave.

Through this brutal and bloody security war, the Eastern Roman Empire shocked all Muslim countries with the most violent and ruthless means, allowing them to see the Eastern Roman Empire's most resolute determination.

Scorched earth policy? Ha, if we are ruthless, we can destroy even the land we have already conquered. It is just a supply line, it is just money. At most, we can make the people in the colonies suffer a little more, and we don’t need to bear the blame.

Taxation? Construction? Agricultural production? Sorry, the empire is not short of money. The tax revenue of Constantinople and Carthage accounts for half of the core territory. Eighty percent of the population lives in coastal areas or along the banks of large rivers. The inconvenient places in the plateau will only become the source of raw materials. Extensive large pastures and farms are enough. There is no need for so many unstable populations, even if they are forced to obey temporarily due to the situation.

Never compromise, never tolerate, and never sow the seeds of disaster for future generations for the sake of immediate petty gains. This is the consistent principle of the Eastern Roman Empire in dealing with its core territories.

Four hundred years ago, Turkic Muslims occupied land that did not belong to them. This is certainly understandable. There is no justice between ethnic groups, only interests.

However, at the end of the 15th century, there will no longer be a place for them on the Anatolian Plateau, and from now on, this land will have nothing to do with them.

(End of this chapter)