From the distant world beyond, the Khitan people.
Invincible and terrifying warriors.
The prophesied Sacred King.
A youth so beautiful he seemed otherworldly.
All of these combined to form—
"Suna," Constantine XI asked softly, full of doubt. "Is this what you meant by 'a bit crazy'?"
Augustus' words had been quite tactful.
Because no matter how you looked at it, Shu Yichao seemed like a true madman.
Upon realizing he might be touching upon the prophecy, Constantine XI immediately invited Shu Yichao to his palace for hospitality.
Then, Shu Yichao's eccentric behavior left all the watching Normans bewildered, questioning their lives.
He wouldn't walk properly; it was either running or jumping.
In between running and jumping, he kept switching weapons at an alarming speed, wielding his curved blade and bow and arrows.
Whenever he saw a square object with sharp corners, he'd jump onto it and start slashing with his blade, for reasons unknown.
And on the way, if he spotted anything, he'd kick it while hopping along, even if it was a hundred meters away...
Even during the banquet held in his honor, he continued to bounce around on the table, inadvertently knocking over countless pots and pans.
Was this not just a caretaker from some monastery taking a madman out for a walk during his day off?
Constantine XI fell into deep self-doubt.
"Your Majesty," Lady Mati thought for a moment before speaking. "He's been like this since I first laid eyes on him."
"Maybe it's the custom of the Khitan people."
"....."
Is it really?
Constantine XI was full of suspicion.
But even though Shu Yichao was utterly uncouth, trampling all over the dignity of Augustus, the Norman Emperor had no intention of getting angry.
Firstly, he was nominally an emperor, but in reality, he was just a broke mayor about to go under, with neither the energy nor the need to put on airs in front of powerful reinforcements.
Secondly, the Normans were all stunned by the Khitan people showering them with money.
As soon as the steppe horsemen entered the city, they started throwing money around, even smearing people's faces with pepper!
That was pepper!
That was more precious than gold, pepper!
That was something sold only in the most high-end luxury stores, where transactions were conducted with closed doors and bated breath, and the scales were meticulously checked—pepper!
Apart from that, there were silk, porcelain, fine salt... all top-notch goods.
Thanks to Shu Yichao, Constantine XI not only enriched the treasury but also boosted the morale by immediately paying half a year's wages to mercenaries and volunteers.
So now, the attitude of the Normans was basically, "No need to be polite, just insult us with your money as much as you like."
"Boring, boring."
After frolicking around in Constantine XI's palace for a while, Shu Yichao quickly grew tired.
It wasn't that he was criticizing the production team. Although the mod was realistic and immersive, this last Roman emperor was really leading a miserable life.
The so-called palace felt like an unfinished villa, devoid of any luxurious decorations. Even at banquets, there were only clay and wooden utensils, and the bread, albeit decorated, was nothing more than bread mixed with sawdust...
If this was how banquets were, how did this emperor usually spend his days?
As for those nobles, they seemed no different from country bumpkins in Shu Yichao's eyes—overall, they were just pitiful.
"Let's just skip to the action."
As Shu Yichao thought this, he pressed the fast-forward button.
To others, it seemed like this handsome youth from the Khitan was expending his energy, then, after lying down on a reclining chair, he fell asleep under the guard of the steppe horsemen.
Until—
"Ding ding ding!"
Just as the sky was beginning to light up, a series of urgent alarm bells rang throughout the entire city.
On the vast plains outside Constantinople, countless soldiers clad in red, like a scarlet horizon, were slowly streaming in from the distant roads.
Their gleaming curved swords and sharp spears formed a forest of steel, with thousands upon thousands of warhorses kicking up billows of dust—the order of the Sultan had been given, and the vast army of the Esman was about to march!
"No time for idle talk, let's begin deployment immediately."
The movements of the two hundred thousand-strong army were slow and ponderous. Before they could gather and launch their attack, the Normans still had several hours to prepare.
So Constantine XI immediately began total mobilization according to the plan.
Everyone capable of wielding a weapon had to contribute to strengthening the city's defenses, whether by fortifying defensive structures, urgently crafting weapons, or stockpiling supplies.
Of course, the main task of defense fell upon the shoulders of the mixed army of Normans, mercenaries, and volunteers, totaling only five or six thousand, under Constantine XI's command.
The river valley to the north of the western wall and the hilly terrain to the south were entrusted to the mercenaries and volunteers.
As for the crucial central section of the western wall, Constantine XI personally took charge, hoisting the double-headed eagle flag to declare to all that the Norman Emperor, Augustus, would stand with the city in life or death.
However, as he made arrangements, Constantine XI suddenly realized that something seemed off.
"Hiss—" After scanning the various officers around him, clad in assorted armor, he asked, "Where are those Khitan people?"
"Where have they gone?"
In such an important military meeting, even if they couldn't understand our language, surely they wouldn't all be absent.
"Wow—"
"Huff—"
Just then, he suddenly heard gasps coming from outside.
Immediately afterward, a messenger, sweating profusely, burst in and stammered for half a day before saying, "Your Majesty, those Khitan people, they, they've left the city."
"Huh?"
At the same time, just as Mumoona, having finished her prayers, rode up to the menacing army of the Esman, prepared to deliver an impassioned speech to rally their spirits, the gates of Constantinople opened.
This left her unsure whether to continue brandishing her scimitar or simply lay it down.
What were the Normans up to?
Were they surrendering directly?
Mumoona's thoughts were thrown into disarray.
But then she realized that these people didn't seem to be coming out to surrender.
Because those resolute cavalry, with their firm backs to the city walls, quickly formed a long formation outside the city.
Arrogant!
Too arrogant!
After the initial shock, all the Esman warriors were overcome with anger.
These heathens were truly audacious!
In their expectations, those weaklings should be cowering behind the towering walls, shivering, imagining that inanimate objects could forever shelter them.
Then the warriors blessed by the true god would laughingly shatter the insignificant hope in their hearts, break through their defenses, reap their lives, plunder their wealth...
Never in their wildest dreams did they imagine that just a handful of people would dare to come out of the city to face them in battle?
Who did they think they were!?
But in reality, the Khitan across from them could be even more arrogant.
After positioning his steppe archers against the wall, Shu Yichao charged alone to the front of the two armies.
In the dumbfounded gazes of the Esman and the horrified looks of the Normans on the city walls, he shouted out arrogantly.
"Shu Yichao is here!"
"Who dares to fight me to the death?!"