The grand military formation surged toward the western wall like a blood-red sea.
Flags fluttered, blades glinted, the momentum was overwhelming.
With just one glance, a sense of despair suffocated the heart.
Mumoona was ruthless.
She organized the remaining cannons, rebuilt the artillery positions, and then erected countless trebuchets, prepared numerous siege towers and battering rams...
Then, with a command, the vast army rushed towards Constantinople.
Actually, she had intended to wait a few more days.
After all, after suffering a setback in the attack, morale was low, and there were huge losses in equipment... it was necessary to take a break, restore morale, and replenish supplies.
And theoretically, the Normans in the city should be looking forward to it.
Isn't it a great thing if the enemy doesn't attack?
However, this theory didn't apply to Shu Yichao.
He always thought he was still lying in the game pod playing a game, so naturally, he couldn't resist the urge to kill someone.
If you don't come to attack me, then I'll come to attack you.
So, Mumoona found with a numb scalp that the Khitan people, who had tasted sweetness, launched night raids every day, as if it were a routine.
And their angles were extremely tricky.
If you defend on the left, they attack from the right.
If you guard the front, they strike from behind.
And the Khitan people seemed to have an eye in the sky, knowing all about the Esman's defenses—always finding the weak spots in the Esman camps, rushing in to kill and wreak havoc, and then withdrawing.
What's even more infuriating is that Mumoona hasn't figured out how the Khitan people are getting out of the city so far.
But given that the supply lines have been repeatedly attacked recently, Mumoona could only guess that not all the Khitan people who came to help the Normans entered Constantinople.
Instead, some of them hid on the Serez Plains, like lurking hyenas, ready to pounce at any opportunity.
With no other choice, Mumoona had to order the army to launch an attack to break the deadlock—otherwise, this siege of Constantinople would become a joke.
A siege without even touching the city walls?
"Normans, prepare for battle!"
Watching the Esman army surging like a tide, Constantine XI personally came to the front line, brandishing his sword and calmly deploying the troops.
The valley area north of the western wall was defended by a line of two thousand mercenaries against the Esman's Balkan Legion.
In the hilly area south of the western wall, it was entrusted to a large number of citizens and volunteers to resist the Esman's Anatolian Legion.
He himself led a mobile force, stationed in the center to reinforce both sides at any time.
Constantine XI didn't assign any combat tasks to Shu Yichao. He also realized that this madman who dared to launch night raids on the Esman camp every day would not listen to any arrangements.
If that's the case, then let him go.
"Noble Khitan warriors," he said sincerely, "I only ask one thing of you."
"Don't open the city gates to fight with the Esman people..."
Clang!
The city gates swung open.
"Brothers, follow me and charge!"
Shu Yichao shouted and led the troops out of the city.
"....."
"Your Majesty?"
Constantine XI looked at the soldier reminding him with a look of utter despair.
"They dare to charge again!?" Mumoona felt she could no longer bear it.
These Khitan people simply didn't regard the warriors of the Esman tribe!
"Spread the word."
"Whoever can bring me the head of that Khitan man!"
"I will appoint them as the Governor-General of the Balkans!"
Mumoona roared.
"Charge!"
"Kill him!" With such hefty rewards, the Esman warriors were greatly motivated, shouting as they charged.
"Support the Sacred King!" Even now, the Normans people lacked the courage to fight outside the city, but the packed Esman army became prime targets for archers.
Soon the Esman people found themselves in despair—
If they formed a loose formation, they would be swept away by the tide of battle led by Shu Yichao.
If they formed a dense formation, they would have to endure a hail of arrows and thunderous cannon fire.
If they ignored Shu Yichao and attacked the walls, they would be flanked after the enemy dealt with their own allies.
But if they first dealt with Shu Yichao, even with wave after wave of warriors charging forward, they saw no hope of victory.
"Do the Khitan people ever get tired?"
Someone lamented.
The Khitan people, especially their commander, seemed to know no fatigue, continuously slashing and shooting—wherever the enemy was thickest, they went, from the south of the city to the north, then from the north to the south, leaving a trail of carnage.
Once again, the Esman army collapsed. After leaving behind thousands of corpses, they discarded their armor and fled to the rear.
Even the command teams killing dozens of deserters couldn't muster the courage to return to the battlefield.
"Sultan, should we..."
With tens of thousands fleeing from just a few hundred, one general couldn't help but offer advice in such a bleak situation.
"Deploy the Janissaries?"
The Janissaries, also known as the New Army, were the elite standing army most trusted by the Esman Sultan, essentially equivalent to the Imperial Guard of the Normans Empire.
Members of the New Army were forcibly drawn from underage males under Esman rule, subjected to military training and cultural assimilation before being integrated into the army.
Due to living with the Sultan since childhood and being indoctrinated with loyalty to the Sultan, as well as being prohibited from marrying, the New Army believed in nothing but the Sultan and firmly believed everything the Sultan said.
Such a thoroughly brainwashed force naturally fought fiercely, facing death without fear, and was an absolute ace in the Sultan's hand.
In the eyes of this Esman general, with the battle so unfavorable, only by deploying the Janissaries could the situation possibly be reversed.
"...," after a moment of silence, Mumoona looked at the swaggering Shu Yichao outside the city walls and shook her head firmly.
"It's not time yet."
As a commander, Mumoona knew well how to seize victory.
The Janissaries, such as this ace, must be deployed at the most critical moment to make a decisive blow.
However, with the remaining strength of Constantinople still intact, it was far from being exhausted.
Moreover, Mumoona sadly realized that the combat power shown by the Khitan people at present was such that even the most elite Janissaries would not be able to compare.
Deploying the ace at this time would only result in losing all the chips.
"Retreat, we'll fight again tomorrow."
.............
Late at night.
Inside Mumoona's tent.
Ignoring the cries of nightly raids by Khitan people several kilometers away, Mumoona bent over a large square table, carefully examining a model of Constantinople.
The table was piled high with layers of maps, sand tables, and models—all meticulously crafted by skilled craftsmen based on intelligence from spies.
Over the past few years, Mumoona had carefully studied every detail of Constantinople, knowing it like the back of her hand.
Now, she brought out all these things, contemplating, repeatedly pondering the plans for attack, countless sketches drawn and discarded one after another...
Gradually, a fanciful plan took shape.
"Summon the Pashas and Emirs."
She called for a messenger, her eyes shining.
"It's time to study dry-land ships."