kingdom of nations

Chapter 156 Breakthrough (5)

It was not the same Turks who had caught up with Cesare.

Although these Turks were assimilated by the Saracens in terms of beliefs and political systems, their methods of warfare still followed the experience and rules passed down from their ancestors, that is, the knowledge they learned from the wild animals and prey on the grasslands.

Although there were more than two thousand people chasing after Cesare, they did not act together. After a brief discussion, they split into three teams. The first team would chase after the fleeing ministers and Christians with all their might on the first day, while the second team would follow at a relatively slow pace, and so on for the third team. When the first team felt exhausted, they would stop to rest, allowing the second team to quickly take over. When the second team also began to tire, it would be the third team's turn to exert their strength.

If someone lives on the grasslands and frequently observes wolves hunting, they will find that the strategies employed by the wolves are almost identical to those used by the Turks. In other words, the wolves were the Turks' earliest mentors. The hunters on the grasslands had long been accustomed to the fact that once the first tracker had ensured that no prey had been lost, he could slow down, adjust his breathing, and recover his strength, leaving the pursuit to his companions.

The wolves would attack in shifts, and so would they, while their enemies could only run tirelessly. It was predictable that when any of these three groups caught up with Cesar and his men, the Turks, if not full of energy and high spirits, would be far stronger than these Christian knights who had been running for several days and nights.

Moreover, as long as they held their ground against the enemy, a steady stream of comrades would arrive to reinforce them, which filled every Turk with confidence. Although they had lost some men in previous encounters, the remaining number still posed an overwhelming threat and instilled despair in the enemy.

The Turkic leader had already seen the knights. They were lined up, their banners as red as blood, with an Allazan cross at the corner. The lead knight wore silver-plated chainmail, a helmet with a nose guard, and a wide cloak with a large Allazan cross on the front and back. He also rode his magnificent Arabie, pure white except for a black patch on its forehead that formed a star shape.

The First Lady offered a reward of one thousand gold coins for anyone who could take the head of the Christian knight.

The Turkic leader subconsciously licked his lips and squinted. He noticed that the other man was backlit, but unfortunately, this trick was useless against the Turks. He shook his head inwardly, then pointed at the young man and shouted to his companions in Turkic, "This man is mine! I must take his head!"

The other Turks raised a chorus of shouts in agreement, then raised their shoulders, lowered their heads, spurred their horses, and galloped toward the battlefield.

The knights opposite did not show the same eagerness as the Turks. Only some knights moved forward quickly, while the others remained in place. The Turks did not understand why they were behaving this way, but for them, encountering such a slow-witted enemy was the best thing ever.

The Turks fought in a style more akin to wolves than lions or tigers; they rarely charged directly into enemy lines. Instead, they used their fangs and claws to tear at the throats of the Christian knights, much like wolves besieging a flock of sheep. Utilizing their superior mounted archery skills, they circled the Christian knights, firing arrows at them.

There is a common misconception about Turkic arrows, that they were not very powerful. This view may have been influenced by plate armor, which would not appear for more than a hundred years.

Arrows were indeed unlikely to achieve great success against heavy plate armor. However, most people at this time wore chainmail or leather armor, which could certainly withstand some of the power of arrows, but if they encountered an archer who possessed both strength and skill, the knight's life was still in danger.

Cesar had heard of an unfortunate knight who had been struck by an arrow—the arrow had struck his thigh precisely, perhaps in a small gap that his chainmail had failed to protect—the arrow had pierced through his left leg, then his horse, and the arrowhead was deeply embedded in his other leg.

It could be said that this arrow "connected" him and his mount together, which sounds unbelievable, but it really happened.

The Turks had fought the Crusaders for so many years that they had long since developed tactics to counter them. When the knights charged at them, they would immediately retreat, and few knights could catch up with them. While retreating, they could also shoot arrows at the enemy. If the knights were provoked and insisted on chasing them regardless of the consequences, they would stray far from their own camp, away from their supplies and baggage.

If they were to break away from the main army and be outnumbered, the Turks would turn around and attack those who were already exhausted and weary.

Generally speaking, Turks would carry two or three types of weapons: a bow and arrows on their backs, and a scimitar or spear at their waists. Their method was still to shoot from a distance first, and then engage in close combat.

Therefore, when Cesar and his knights charged toward them, the Turks were not alarmed. They simply moved their retreat slightly earlier, and as usual, they quickly distanced themselves from the knights and soon disappeared from sight.

The knights' attack was powerful but futile, and the remaining Turks let out sharp jeers. They spurred their horses and began to gallop around the knights who remained in place, raising their longbows. But at that moment, the knights did something astonishing: they threw large pieces of silk at their feet, both near and far.

These silks were gifts from the ladies and princes to César as a token of their gratitude. When he left, César did not forget to take them with him. At that time, Geoffroy thought that he had finally reached the age where he liked to amass wealth, but he used them here without any hesitation.

As soon as the knights threw the silks out, they shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight, then fluttered down like flowers or clouds, landing on the scorched sand like gold and silver flowing under the horses' hooves.

Whether it was the leader or the soldiers, the Turks' first thought was that these Christians wanted to use silk to redeem themselves. But unfortunately, each of their heads had a price, and as long as they were killed, these things could still belong to them. But even they themselves did not realize that the rhythm had been disrupted.

The Turks could raise the reins, make their horses stand, and then trample on an infant, yet they couldn't bring themselves to treat these smooth, lustrous fabrics—something worth as much as gold—with such cruelty. Even when emperors negotiated with kings, silk robes were included as part of the war reparations. Moreover, the silks here were the prized possessions of Sultan Nur ad-Din's concubines; each piece was soft, delicate, magnificent, and exquisitely crafted. But what they wouldn't trample, Christian knights would show no pity for.

Upon seeing that Cesare's methods were effective, they cheered inwardly. They rode their horses over the silk and instantly killed a large number of Turkic soldiers who were still hesitating whether to dismount and pick it up or kill the Christians first. Ironically, even so, some Turks still instinctively avoided the silk when they were dodging.

"Don't be foolish, this is a Christian trap!" shouted a Turkic soldier. He was of high rank in the group and wore sturdy lamellar armor. At his warning, some Turks did indeed gather together. They raised their bows and arrows and searched for their target, only to find a large number of bright flashes jumping before their eyes.

The Christian knights pulled down the cloaks that had been covering them, and a blinding light suddenly burst forth from them—the light was so bright that they couldn't open their eyes, and their bows and arrows went astray. The bowstrings twanged, but the arrows failed to cause any damage to the knights. When a Turkic soldier was slashed down from his horse, he realized that what was shining on the knights were actually fragments of bronze mirrors—though he couldn't be sure.

These were indeed bronze mirrors. Sultan Nur ad-Din's harem was overflowing with these exceptionally polished mirrors; they were even sold as valuable items by Apol. These mirrors were also given as gifts in chests. While the knights rested, Cesar had hired men to smash all these bronze mirrors into pieces and embed them into the knights' chainmail.

Although the technique was very crude—it was simply a matter of punching a hole and then securing it with wire or leather rope.

These fragments did indeed play a role beyond expectations—human beings' conditioned reflex to strong light cannot be suppressed by any training or command, and when the Turkic soldiers turned their heads uncontrollably, their lives came to an end.

The bows and arrows, along with their owners, fell to the ground, stirring up clouds of dust.

A Turk was calling out to his leader, and he and the Turks around him were running toward them, but as they got closer, all he saw on that face was fear—had he shaken off the knights?
not at all.

As the leader was pierced by the spear and sent flying into the air, he finally saw the peculiar black star. The head, worth a thousand gold coins, was passing beneath him. The other person looked up at him expressionlessly, then looked away without even a smile. Was he not worth it?
His head may be worth more than a thousand gold coins, but at least a hundred would be worth it.

The leader fell to the ground, and he opened his mouth, wanting to curse the despicable Christian knight—God help you, you will soon come with me—with each word he uttered, a mouthful of pinkish liquid mixed with blood clots spilled from his mouth.

He wasn't wrong; although he couldn't see them, the two other groups were rapidly approaching. These Christian knights, though appearing very composed and fierce, didn't seem to have much strength left to face the ensuing battle.

Moreover, those two teams had even more people who had received the prophet's revelation than their own. Their barrier had already been broken, and they would surely be no match for those sharper arrows.

He died with this thought in mind, filled with resentment, and just as he had hoped, before Cesar and his knights could catch their breath, they felt the air and the earth tremble slightly. It was the resonance of countless hooves striking the ground, and Geoffrey's face immediately changed.

The knights silently and tacitly moved closer to Cesar. Cesar looked around; none of the knights had been lost, though some were already teetering on the brink of collapse. However, the squires and armed attendants had suffered considerable losses, but this was unavoidable. After all, this was war, not child's play.

He stopped thinking and calmed himself, praying to the presence that had always been watching over him. Once again, a holy light, like moonlight and silver, enveloped everyone. This time, even the squires and armed servants could feel the boundless favor and grace bestowed upon them by Cesar. They were moved to tears, feeling that it would be completely worthwhile to die at this moment.

Only Froy looked worried. He was not only the chosen one, but had also fought alongside those who were equally favored for many years. Excessive supplication for divine grace would cause great harm to the person involved—both physically and mentally.

Some people would collapse to the ground without warning and die instantly after the war ended; others would be plagued by illness and bedridden afterward; even if they were lucky enough not to repeat the mistakes of either of these two groups, they would not be favored again for a long time afterward, and sometimes they would act as if they had never been chosen at all.

César is undoubtedly overdrawing his resources now, but there's nothing he can do to stop him. He knows what kind of person César is; even if he doesn't allow him to do this, he can stop him. The deaths of these people will torment César for the rest of his life, and he might even die of depression because of it.

Just then, the two teams hidden behind the billowing sand revealed their true identities.

One of them was the Turks with furs, who came in a fierce manner, shouting and brandishing their swords even in the distance, but they did not raise any banners; the other army was even more puzzling, they moved silently, a dark mass, and although they raised a banner, even the battle-hardened Geoffrey could not find a similar mark in his memory.

It was a huge black flag, with a white eagle flying in the center.

(End of this chapter)