Chapter 371: The Pasha With a Long Name

"Whither are we fleeing, my most valiant men? Do you not know that flight never leads to safety, but shows the folly of a useless effort?"

-        Flavius Claudius Julianus, Battle of Strasburg

Amongst the chaotic battle field, the eyes of Mahumad Pasha Angelovic and Giovanni met, with one being the prey and one being the predator. Without any thought Giovanni managed to figure out the identity of this man riding on white horse before him – not only because the Sultan's royal flag is behind him, but also he knows , from his long time of interaction with his enemies, that the Ottomans are trained since young that strictly follows to a codex they need to obey, especially when it is times of war, as any loud shouting or negative comment by one person can lower the morale of an entire army, and eventually roll in to a disaster.

Thus, this man who dares to shout and give orders must be the main commander of the Ottomans, and since this guy made the effort to make himself so obvious before the eyes of Giovanni, the later must thank him for the effort made by making full use of the advantage and approach the Ottoman commander as near as possible. Although it has already been a prolonged fight always being pinned at the front line, Giovanni still managed to assemble the rest of his energy, forcing his body to function beyond the norm and continue pushing.

The Latin mercenaries around Giovanni too felt the determination and strength coming from their leader, with years of understanding and corporation the entire squadron of a hundred warriors worked as one, even with out clear instructions being given as they sheathed their shields aside pushing through the enemies before them with full force, just to push forward as much as possible and engage even mor enemies at once to share more burden for Giovanni, without caring about the number of casualties and pals falling down one by one. As war hardened mercenaries they know that if their attack fails, then it shall not only be a decade casualties they are having now, it shall be counted in hundreds.

Giovanni made a roar and continued slashing his blade forward with all of his might, chasing off one after another Ottoman trooper who are now filled with fear in their eyes as they tried to intercept this monster well covered by a full set of plate armour. The Ottomans tried every thing they could, they tried to form up combat teams of two people supporting each other and find weak spots to strike this maniac, but one is not sure whether if their attack is weakened by their fear, or the set of armour produced in Orban's workshop is way to high quality, or if Giovanni is blessed by God at this moment, their blades dealt no actual damage on Giovanni's body except for a few marks and dents on his gorgeously manufactures armour.

Giovanni did not realise all of this though, for his heart is rapidly beating experiencing an adrenaline rush. Even his mind is almost totally blank now with his entire body working on his natural instinct as a champion, that is to fight his way through these minions and get that Ottoman commander to finish this battle. Supported by this thought he continued wielding his cutlass frantically scaring off one after another Ottoman warrior, and with nothing in his pair of bloody red eyes except that vague figure sitting on the white horse he pulled up his increasingly numb feet, just to get one more step in front.

The frenetic engagement with this man donned in plate armour finally attracted the attention of the Ottoman commander, Mahumad Pasha Angelovic, as the still shining plate armour of Giovanni reflected the light of the surrounding torches making himself bright enough to be seen by Mahumad one hundred plus meters away. Feeling threatened the Mahumad Pasha Angelovic hastily ordered another group of reserves to feel up the gap between him and the pushing Rumelians, but this proved to have little effect as it seems these peck of Rumelians is like a peck of animals, being unable to feel pain or agony, especially the one leading them.

As the distance between the two men shortens, Mahumad Pasha Angelovic could no longer manage to keep his usual image as a calm and steady general. The fear of his life being threatened by this creature who is only seventy meters away from him slowly starts to devour his mind, forcing him to think about himself first before the entire battle situation. He ordered his guards to pull out their bows, and under the doubted eyes of his men, Mahumad Pasha Angelovic ordered his guards to let their arrows free on to the crowd in front, which is mixed with both Ottomans and Rumelians.

Although this order did spur some commotions among the guards, but as faithful followers they still obliged with the order and released their bow string. Their arrows achieved the exact same effect as what they expected; most of them flied straight towards the backs of their own people bringing them down instantly as they eyed at the direction where the arrows came from, which is their back.

Still, most of the arrows flied towards the direction of Giovanni, some bounced off his chest armour, but there are still a few lucky ones that managed to find the weaker spots of the armour, penetrated through the already dislocating chains mail and plunged right in to the left shoulder muscle of Giovanni. This proves to be a great unpropitious for Giovanni, as he clearly remembers that he once sustained way back when defending Constantinople.

Indeed, soon as the arrow plunges in to his left shoulder it instantly teared open the scars formed by the stitches that was already grown intact with his muscles. Giovanni did not feel it initially as he rived off the shaft of the arrow and continued charging, after half a minute he started feeling cold and numbness from his left arms, knowing that its his blood sipping out of his body, accompanied by his energy quickly fading away, making him feel that his feet are getting heavier and heavier with each step he is taking.

Finally, after wielding a few more slashes with his blade, Giovanni received another hit on his right knee with a dull headed arrow. Some thing that usually will not cause a problem to a fighter like Giovanni, but with his worsening condition and blackish red blood sipping out his inner fabric linens, it made every thing different. After fending off an incoming attack by an enemy, Giovanni almost toppled over a piece of torso. The world quickly darkens before the eyes of Giovanni, his pals tried with all their efforts to regroup and gather around their commander forming a wall of shield, at the same time drag Giovanni away from the battle field.

However just as expected by the Latin heavy infantry, their leader who is stubborn like a mule, refused any help from his men with his eyes focused on one thing, that man riding on the white hors beside the flag. With no time and energy to utter any words, Giovanni supported himself to stand up once again with that fourth cutlass he has picked up since the start of the battle, focused on that flag calling for him and continued moving forward. One step… Two steps… Three steps… Four steps… His body started shaking again, but he is not stopping. Seeing this his pals too accompanied by his side making sure that no Ottoman arrow or blade can touch their commander again, forcing a narrow passage forward with their blood and steel.

Giovanni continued moving forward step by step counting the distance between him and the man beside the flag. He is unable to get a clear view on the face of that man on white horse yet, but he can already feel that sensation of anxiety and despair because of his presence. Giovanni forced his worn out body to take one more step forward, now the distance between the two men are merely fifty meters; Before Giovanni is a path filled with Ottoman archers and guards, Beside Giovanni is his squadron of pals who now only have approximately half of its original strength, behind Giovanni is a path filled with blood stained land and broken corpses piling up.

There is already no going back for Giovanni and his team, they did not realise it, but actually they have pushed way too far in to the Ottoman formations with a distance of at least twenty meters away from the rest of their army, the twenty meters gap might seem to be short, but the Ottoman reinforcements from the flanks are already starting to fill it up blocking off all connections between the two uncoordinated sections of Giovanni's army. Facing this situation every one here knows that if they loses the momentum of pushing, they shall be encircled and eaten up completely.