I was a knight in the Middle Ages

Chapter 471 Lobbying the Imperial General

When the battle flag with the emblem of the star and the crescent pierced the twilight, the gilded telescope in the hands of Philos, the commander-in-chief of the Maritime Alliance, fell to the ground.

The crisp sound of bronze lenses cracking on the deck, mixed with the sound of horns coming from afar, startled the warships anchored in the port of Constanta and shook them.

The supreme commander of the Maritime Alliance wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. His silk cloak was lifted by the sea breeze, revealing the rapier at his waist that had never been unsheathed - at this moment, his trembling fingers were tapping the scabbard.

"General Kuslerus!" When Philos knocked on the wooden door of the tent, the candle flame was shaken violently by the air current.

The commander of the Ottoman Empire was wiping his scimitar, the ruby on the gilded handle glowing eerily in the shadows, "Why did your people get off the ship? Troops with crescent flags suddenly appeared outside the mining city!"

General Kuslers slowly raised his head, the shadow cast by his hooked nose covering half of his face.

He put the scimitar into the pearl-studded scabbard, and the sound of leather rubbing against each other was particularly harsh in the silence: "Commander Philos, the Ottoman eagle never disobeys the king's will."

The chain mail jingled as Kuslers stood up, "Perhaps you are seeing things."

"Impossible!" Philos grabbed the opponent's chain mail, but Kuslerus's cold hand grabbed his wrist.

"They are holding the flags of the Imperial Knights and are advancing towards Burgas! The scouts reported that they will arrive in two hours at most!" Philos' pupils shrank with excitement, "The gold embroidery on those flags is clearly the emblem of the Ottoman Empire!"

The air in the tent suddenly froze.

Kuslers loosened his grip and ran his fingertips across the map of the empire hanging on the wall. When his eyes swept over the location of the mining city, his knuckles pressed deep indentations into the parchment: "I'll take care of it myself."

He turned and grabbed the scarlet cloak, "Anyone who dares to desecrate the imperial flag shall be punished by a thousand cuts."

When Philos left the camp, the moonlight was gilding the sea.

He looked back at the huge warship that was brightly lit. The Ottoman knights lined up neatly on the deck looked like black statues.

But Philos still quietly signaled his adjutant: "Mobilize all the secret guards to keep an eye on Kuslers' every move. Remember, report all the news to me..."

Before he could finish his words, the sound of horse hooves suddenly came from afar, like the drumbeats of the god of death.

Inside the tent, Kuslerus threw the blood-stained towel into the brazier.

The flames suddenly jumped up, illuminating his gloomy face: "Bars."

The adjutant immediately knelt on one knee and said, "Take a thousand elite troops and encircle us along the southeast trade route."

He stroked the curved knife at his waist, the blade reflecting the dancing flames, "No matter who dares to steal the imperial flag, I will grind their bones into powder."

When Bals stood up, the silver bells on his armor tinkled.

He looked back at the wasteland shrouded in the night outside the port and could vaguely see the crescent flag fluttering in the wind, like some ominous omen.

At this moment, Alpha was standing at the front of the team, sneering in the direction of Burgas - this chess game woven with lies was finally about to usher in the most exciting match.

The night was like velvet soaked in ink, and Mash's leather boots stepped silently over the gravel.

The night owl on Mash's shoulder suddenly flapped its wings, and the dark elf's pupils shrank into two vertical lines in the darkness: "Lord Alpha, there are iron hooves sounds in the southeast! Three kilometers away, about a thousand cavalry are outflanking!"

Before he finished speaking, an iron-gray wave appeared on the distant horizon - the moonlight swept across the cavalrymen's scimitars, like cold stars scattered all over the ground.

Alpha's cloak fluttered in the night wind. He raised his hand and pressed the holy sword at his waist, his fingertips tapping out a rhythm on the hilt.

"Quintai, the two wings form a flying goose formation!" The command sounded through the night, and the light cavalry immediately urged their horses to move. The cold light of the unsheathed scimitars wove into wings of death in the darkness. "Baruch, the chariots and crossbows form an arrow-shaped formation! Da Gama, the shieldmen formed a crescent line of defense to protect the chariots!"

The sound of steel chariot wheels rolling over gravel mixed with the hum of taut bowstrings, and the entire camp was transformed into a precision-operated war machine within ten minutes.

When Hals' cavalry arrived, they were greeted by a seamless formation: the light cavalry on both sides were like lurking cheetahs, the crossbows of the chariot group in the center glowed with a poisonous blue light under the moonlight, and the bows and arrows of the elven rangers could be faintly seen between the shield phalanxes.

Hals pulled the reins suddenly, and the chestnut horse stood up.

The old veteran with a black beard narrowed his eyes. The enemy's formation was advancing and retreating in an orderly manner, which was definitely not comparable to that of ordinary gangs.

If you charge rashly, your cavalry will be like pieces of meat thrown into a meat grinder - the cavalry on both sides will strangle them like crab claws, and the crossbows in the center will reap the remaining soldiers.

"Order, all troops stop!" Hals took off the silver-inlaid horn from his waist and blew it loudly, then sent three messengers holding torches to negotiate.

At the same time, three figures walked out of Alpha's camp: Alpha, a silver-armored knight with a star and moon emblem embroidered on his cloak, the elf woman Evelyn beside him with a quiver inlaid with moonstone hanging around her waist, and the magician Darwin.

"I am Hals, the adjutant of the Ottoman Empire's Black Sea Fleet!" The veteran pointed his scimitar at the night sky, and the moonlight flowed on the blade like liquid silver.

"Tell me your names!" The cavalrymen behind Hals slowly raised their shields, and their breathing under the iron mask could be clearly heard.

"Alpha, the leader of the First Order of Greek Knights of the Ottoman Empire." The silver-armored knight Alpha took a half step forward, and his voice was like polished steel.

"This is the personal letter of appointment from His Royal Highness Ahmed Mohammed, the third prince of the empire." The elf Evelyn stepped forward in the moonlight, the sheepskin scroll in her hand shining under the torch, the purple wax at the seal emitting a noble luster.

As Hals took the commission, his fingers brushed over the raised gold seal on the parchment.

He carefully compared the edges and patterns of the seal, and even used a dagger to pry open the wax seal to check the interlayer.

After confirming that everything was correct, Hals returned the letter of appointment and suddenly looked up: "You...are you Alpha, the lord of the mining city?"

The night wind blew up Alpha's silver hair. He took off his helmet, revealing the battle scar at the corner of his eye: "It's me."

At this moment, the moonlight illuminated the sharpness in Alpha's eyes.

It was the fortitude tempered in blood and fire that suddenly gave Hals an ominous premonition, as if he was caught in a storm that could overthrow the Maritime Alliance.

"Knights, follow my knights! I will immediately inform General Kuslers, the commander of the Black Sea Fleet!" Hals tightened the reins, and his hoarse voice penetrated the morning mist.

The silver-haired veteran whipped the whip hard, and the chestnut horse raised its front hooves, splashing sparks on the gravel road.

The sound of horse hooves faded away, and Alpha stared at the leaden clouds rolling on the horizon, clenching his fists tightly.

The salty sea breeze blew across my hair. In the distance, the towers of Constanta City were looming. The coastal fortress looked like the bared fangs of a giant beast.

As the head of the Knights Templar, Alpha had never thought that he would step into this area in such a passive manner - Alpha also did not expect that after traveling through time, he would be involved in the power struggle between the Ottoman Empire and the Maritime Alliance.

The knights' armor gleamed coldly under the bright moon, and their war horses pawed their hooves restlessly.

When Hals and his bodyguards galloped back, Alpha noticed that the sword on the old general's waist had changed position - this was a sign that he had been interrogated.

"Captain Alpha, General Kuslers invites you to enter the city." Hals' pupils shrank slightly, and his left hand unconsciously stroked the hilt of the sword, "but you are only allowed to bring ten personal soldiers."

The sea breeze suddenly became fierce, and Alpha's cloak fluttered.

He reached out and pressed the Imperial Knight emblem on his waist; the metal felt icy cold.

"Wait for me ten minutes, General." Alpha turned and joined his own knights.

"I'll take Melissa and nine elite soldiers with me." Alpha took off his helmet, revealing his angular profile, and his icy blue eyes swept over the knights who were ready to go.

"The rest of you stay where you are, in a circular defensive formation. If I don't return before sunrise..." Alpha paused, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty, "Don't hesitate, evacuate immediately and support the mining city."

As Alpha led the team on horseback, the waning moon cast a golden edge on his back.

Melissa gripped the longbow tightly and looked at the gradually shrinking silhouette. She knew that she had to protect Lord Alpha. This was a reward for Alpha's trust.

In Melissa's eyes, this always lustful leader seemed to be carrying the weight of the entire continent at this moment.

The shields of the Knights formed a steel wall in the night, and their faith was heading alone towards the center of the unknown storm.

The sound of horse hooves hitting the cobblestones echoed in the streets. Melissa suddenly rode close to Alpha, and her voice from behind the bronze mask floated over with the sea breeze: "Why did you choose me to go with you, sir?"

Her long, soft hair fell from the gaps in her helmet, gleaming faintly in the twilight.

Alpha gripped the reins tightly and looked at the shadow cast by the archway in front of him: "Because you are the only nightingale who can spread its wings."

Before he finished speaking, Melissa's pupils suddenly shrank behind the mask - it turned out that he didn't choose her because he trusted her.

"Just for this?" The girl's voice ended with a hint of bitterness, and her fingertips unconsciously stroked the arched back.

She had thought that the friendship formed by fighting side by side countless times would lead to a deeper level of trust.

The salty sea breeze swept over the eaves, and Alpha stared at the black flag flying on the mast of the fleet in the distance: "Every brick and stone in Constanta is soaked in conspiracy. If the negotiations change, you must bring back the news alive."

Alpha raised his hand to pat the other person on the back, but Melissa dodged sideways like a frightened deer, and a light snort came from under her helmet.

When the iron gate of the city gate fell down behind him, the salty and humid sea breeze suddenly became sticky.

Alpha's warhorse neighed anxiously, and the bluestone slabs under its hooves still bore traces of being washed away by heavy rain.

After passing through three checkpoints, the bronze gate of the Black Sea Fleet headquarters slowly opened. The candlelight stretched the shadows of the guards at the gate very long, like a monster with bared fangs and claws.

Melissa's bowstring trembled slightly in the dark, and Alpha had taken off his sword first. The sound of the blade tapping on the door knocker was like a death knell in the silent courtyard.

This life-threatening negotiation may have no turning back since the first step into this port city.

……

The bronze candlesticks cast a hideous shadow in the meeting room. General Kuslers' fingers slammed heavily on the gem-studded table: "Where did you get your commission? According to the law, if you privately engrave the seal of the Imperial Knight, you must be executed along with your entire clan!"

The scimitar at his waist was already three inches out of its sheath, and the cold light caused Alpha's pupils to shrink slightly.

"If the general wants to take action, I will do it." Alpha opened his arms and leaned back in his chair. The leather seat creaked slightly. "But when the steam train from the mining city enters the territory of the Pirate Alliance, how will history record the decision of the commander of the Black Sea Fleet?"

The crisp sound of a scimitar being sheathed broke the silence.

Kuslerus's hooked nose cast a sharp shadow in the candlelight: "Go on."

"The Pirate Alliance covets all kinds of technologies from the mining city. Isn't the general interested in train and gun technology?" Alpha pulled the corner of his mouth and revealed a mocking smile.

"Do you really think those maritime gangs will keep their promises? When the empire holds the throat of the Suez Canal, they would rather give the world-changing magic gun technology to Tsarist Russia than share it with you."

The air suddenly solidified.

Kuslers' Adam's apple rolled with difficulty. Outside the window came the roar of the warship's anchor hitting the water, like the death knell of fate.

This secret was an unspoken understanding between the Black Sea Fleet and the Pirate Alliance, but it was now blatantly torn apart by the young man in front of him.

"The Third Prince has tacitly agreed to my relocation of the mining city to the heart of the empire." Alpha leaned forward, and the chain mail on his body made a violent clash. "But the Pirate Alliance will never sit idly by and watch the outflow of technology, especially the Empire."

"Ridiculous! The Black Sea Fleet's blockade means they can't get out of this area at all." Kuslers said with disdain.

"They can bypass the strait and prepare to leave by land. This place is not far from the empire's greatest enemy, Tsarist Russia. If I were the Pirate Alliance, I might eventually defect to the Caucasus." Alpha explained from another perspective.

"General, do you know why they are afraid of the Empire's reinforcements?" Alpha's voice suddenly lowered, "Because the gates of the Suez Canal are the sword of Damocles hanging over the Pirate Alliance. They would rather sacrifice the entire fleet to keep the lifeline of technology moving westward. They don't want the Empire to set foot on land."

The chamber fell into a suffocating silence.

Kuslerus stood up suddenly, and his heavy cloak swept off the sheepskin map on the table, revealing the scarlet mark of the mining city.

He stood in front of the window for a long time, looking at the thousands of lights swaying in the harbor, and finally said: "I will verify your identity with the Empire. Before that..."

"Give me one night." Alpha slammed his palm on the table, making the gilded wine glass buzz. "Before dawn, I will turn the Pirate Alliance's stronghold in Constanta into scorched earth."

When the old general turned around, a wolf-like cold light flashed in his eyes: "In two hours, my fleet will withdraw from the port. If there are still pirate flags here at sunrise tomorrow..."

The scimitar was unsheathed half an inch again, "The tide of the Black Sea will carry away the bodies of the losers."

General Kuslers threw the hem of his cloak over his shoulders and said in a deep voice: "Hals, immediately send a message to the Maritime Alliance's Philos Fleet - let Orf lead his troops to replace us on the return journey. The Empire has an extremely urgent matter, and ordered us to travel day and night!"

Before he finished speaking, his riding boots had already stomped heavily on the deck and his figure quickly disappeared behind the door.

Alpha looked at the general's figure getting farther and farther away, with a meaningful arc at the corner of his mouth.

The sea breeze lifted Alpha's silver hair. He shouted towards the fleet in the twilight: "General, you will be thankful for your decision today! The final winner of this game is destined to belong to the Empire!"

The sound waves, carrying an unquestionable certainty, echoed for a long time on the surging sea.