(One more update, I'm sick and can barely keep writing. I'm weak, my heart rate is up. Once I recover, I'll do another burst of updates.
Also, the author really likes this instance. There are still four eras in the author's head that could be wrapped up right away.
If any readers like it and want me to write more plots about the Era Promenade, you can help the author think of which eras to visit next.
Feel free to suggest which eras made special contributions or advances for humanity.
Leave your suggestions in the paragraph comments here. I'll come back and read them, then look up the information. If they fit, I'll add them to later chapters.)
On the inner city walls of Constantinople stood a small arrow tower. A man in his forties stood atop it, surrounded by fully armored warriors in fine gear.
When the man saw Constantinople's soldiers collapsing at the breach and the Ottoman army pouring into the city, he let out a grief-stricken cry.
"God, if You truly exist, then open Your eyes and look!
This city that believes in God is about to be trampled by heathens. A thousand years of art and civilization are about to be burned away by barbaric flames!
My Constantinople! My faith! My Rome!!"
The man crying out in sorrow was Constantine XI, the final Roman emperor—a king whose nation was doomed to fall!
Seeing the Ottomans storm into his city was much like seeing the Xiongnu invade the Central Plains during the Han Dynasty.
Constantine XI had already lost all hope. More than a thousand years of Roman civilization were about to be destroyed by barbarians in his hands. His grief surged like a raging sea, never ceasing!
After crying out from the arrow tower for a