Armistice

At nine in the morning, the first wave of the Ottomans' offensive was declared over. They retreated to their camp, leaving behind thousands of corpses. Upon seeing this, a continuous roar of cheers erupted from the city walls.

Vitus did not join in the celebrations of his comrades. He flipped through his battlefield notes, nibbled on dry rations, and planned to find a quiet corner to sleep.

Suddenly, a procession slowly made its way into the city. Most were clergymen in black robes, led by the eldest imperial son John and the Patriarch of Constantinople.

Following ancient tradition, the clergy carried the icon of the Virgin and Child out of the Hagia Sophia to parade along the Theodosian Walls, hoping to boost the morale of the defenders.

As a member of the imperial family, Vitus was obligated to participate. He suppressed his physical exhaustion and moved his feet at the end of the procession. Before he knew it, they had reached the northwestern section of the wall, where a young man covered in blood and grime joined their ranks.

This man was Constantine Dragases Palaiologos, the emperor's fifth son. He was tall and sturdy, with a high-bridged nose, handsome features, and a thick head of dark brown hair.

Vitus's appearance was similar to Constantine's, the only difference being that his long-term seclusion had left him lean and his complexion somewhat pale.

"Did you participate in the fighting yourself just now?"

Constantine wiped the blood from his face and readjusted his iron helmet. "Yes. The Ottomans used sandbags to fill a section of the moat, and many soldiers swarmed the outer wall. The situation was critical, so I led a group of guards to charge over. Fortunately, we drove the enemy off the wall, though it's a pity this sword is completely ruined."

He drew a gorgeously crafted longsword, its blade covered in dense notches, rendering it useless. "You were on the southwestern wall; was the fighting intense?"

Vitus replied, "It was alright. The Serpent Cannon destroyed the Ottomans' trebuchets, siege towers, and battering rams. Only a very small number of men managed to climb the walls."

The parade lasted for over an hour, and Vitus returned to the southwestern wall while yawning.

In the afternoon, the Ottomans launched their second wave of the offensive. Vitus continued his previous tactics, directing the Serpent Cannon to smash the enemy's siege equipment. The battle lasted until three in the afternoon, when the horn for retreat sounded outside the city once more.

Under the relieved gazes of the defenders, the Ottoman soldiers began dismantling their tents. They loaded their supplies onto wagons and left the siege camp one after another, lifting the three-month-long siege.

"Did we hold out?"

Vitus stroked his chin, pondering the rumors from Venetian merchants. It was said that a large-scale rebellion had broken out in the Ottoman eastern territories; it seemed the gossip was true.

He left the wall, went to the stables to find his mount, and traveled along the wide Mese Avenue toward the eastern district. The scenery along the way was dilapidated.

In its heyday, Constantinople had a population of one million; now, only sixty thousand residents remained. The once-prosperous urban areas had been eroded by nature, and the city contained large tracts of farmland, vegetable gardens, and even desolate grasslands. Occasionally, one could see a few goats foraging for weeds among the ruins.

The eastern district still retained some vitality. In the magnificent Theodosius Square, ancient memorial columns still stood tall, and the streets were filled with a motley crowd: Greeks, Venetian and Genoese merchants (who held various commercial privileges), and a small number of Slavs.

In the distance, the Hagia Sophia stood on the hillside in the southeast of the city. The setting sun enveloped its massive dome, solemn and grave, yet tinged with a hint of loneliness and decay.

At dusk, Vitus arrived at the Hagia Sophia and handed his new sword to the guards. A religious ceremony was being held inside, and Vitus stood quietly at the edge of the crowd. Once the ceremony concluded, the empire's high-ranking officials held a meeting to discuss where to go from here.

The ruler of the Eastern Roman Empire was Manuel II, now over seventy years old. Standing beside him was the eldest imperial son, John. Currently, John had been invested as co-emperor and was gradually taking over administrative affairs.

To this day, the empire had lost the vast majority of its territories, its population was sparse, and its finances were tight. The only chance for a turnaround was reinforcements from the West.

John intended to travel to the West personally to persuade Venice, the Papacy, and other powers to form an unprecedentedly large force of Crusaders to completely destroy the Ottomans.

Regarding the crown prince's idea, the crowd discussed it fervently.

As early as 1399, Emperor Manuel had sailed to the West to visit Venice and the Roman Curia. In 1400, Manuel arrived in Paris, where the King of France received him warmly and promised to send troops.

Half a year later, Manuel went to England and met with Henry IV, who similarly promised to send troops to assist. In addition, the monarchs of Castile, Aragon, and other regions also agreed to join the Crusaders.

However, these were all empty promises. Manuel had spent over three years traveling abroad with little to show for it. It was foreseeable that the crown prince's visit would not yield many results either.

After the meeting ended, Vitus found the crown prince and requested to accompany him on the trip to Italy.

"Are you sure?" The crown prince stared at his tall, thin younger brother, falling into brief contemplation.

His second and third brothers had been invested as despots and were ruling in the provinces. The fourth brother was accompanying the mission, so he could leave the duties of guarding the city to the fifth, Constantine.

In fact, if he had to choose one among his brothers, the crown prince trusted Constantine the most.

The second brother was overly ambitious, the third was physically frail, and the fourth had been in long-term seclusion and was incapable of handling major responsibilities. As for the fifth brother, Constantine, no matter what happened—even if the crown prince and the emperor had a falling out—this brother would always firmly support the crown prince, never wavering.

"Fine, I agree to your request. We leave next month; make your preparations in advance."

"Understood." Having received permission, Vitus returned to a secluded courtyard in the Blachernae Palace and began organizing his notes from this period.

Before coming to this world, he was just an idle college student with little knowledge of European history during this era, knowing only that the final fall of the Eastern Roman Empire occurred on May 29, 1453. In that battle, the Ottomans deployed over a hundred thousand troops to conquer Constantinople—the City of the World's Desire. The last emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire, Constantine XI, died in battle...

"This era is the rise of the Ottomans; their national strength is formidable, and their people are martial. As an unlucky prince with no power or influence, how exactly am I supposed to turn this around?"

Vitus grabbed his hair, sketching an 18th-century muzzle-loading cannon on paper, pondering the caliber-to-length ratio and field artillery carriages.

After working for a long time, he flipped back a few pages, which contained an incomplete system of differential equations.

This was the work of the 18th-century mathematician Euler, used to calculate the trajectory of a cannonball under air resistance. Unfortunately, Vitus's memory was hazy; he could not recall the specific details of this system of equations and could only derive it himself.

"If I recall correctly, it seems to require numerical integration... let me think..."

Once he derived the relevant mathematical formulas, Vitus planned to persuade the emperor to fund the construction of an artillery factory to produce more advanced cannons. Based on the initial velocity and weight of the shells, he would calculate firing tables that possessed practical value.

In this way, the artillery accuracy would be enough to approach the level of the Napoleonic era. Even if the Ottomans used the Urban Bombard to attack the city, Vitus had enough confidence to destroy these heavy guns.