The Situation

The cheers from Constantinople remained clearly audible even from so far away.

Coupled with the battered remnants of the army retreating into camp, they were like a resounding slap across the face of Mahmud II, who had stayed awake all night observing the battle.

The Ottoman high officials each had their own thoughts, but no matter what they were thinking, none dared show the slightest emotion on their faces.

Last night's battle had already seen them give it their all. Not only had the main force included elite Janissaries, but also many guards Mahmud II had personally trained back when he was governor of Asia Minor.

Though the battle had taken a difficult course, before the absolute disparity in strength, the Greeks had still been driven back step by step.

Just as victory seemed assured, three ships from Rhodes had entered the Golden Horn. More than a hundred Hospitaller Knights and over three hundred attendants had descended like divine soldiers, forcibly turning the tide of battle.

A blood-soaked pasha led the defeated remnants back into camp. The moment he entered the main tent, he angrily accused them, "We were only one step away from taking Konstantiniyye for Your Majesty. I want to know, what exactly was our fleet doing?

It would have been one thing if they could not break into the Golden Horn guarded by the Greeks, but could they not even blockade the Aegean Sea? Does the Empire spend enormous wealth every year supporting you just to raise a bunch of useless bread-eating fools?"

One naval commander in attendance could not help silently cursing him for talking big while standing safely aside.

The Black Sea route had been cut off by the fortresses in Rumelia and Anatolia. In theory, the fleet only needed to block enemy reinforcements arriving