As the knights turned their spearheads toward us, a memory from my childhood surfaced—the moment I faced a charging knight.
In those days, with my young, inexperienced self, victory was beyond hope; even survival seemed uncertain. The opponent, prepared to lay down his life for what he sought to protect, charged with a deadly resolve. It was only natural to think of death. Yet, life didn’t end there. By fate or determination, I survived that encounter and stood here now.
Life and death, victory and defeat, glory and ruin.
All rested on this spear.
The distance between me and the first knight to turn his horse was now narrow enough to decide our fates.
Soon, his lance and my spear barely grazed each other. No matter how sturdy the chainmail, it couldn’t withstand the force of that fearsome lance. The armor would crumple, and the heart would be shattered in an instant.
Thus, I aimed my spear not at his chest but at his shoulder.
Clang!
With a fierce twist of my body, I thrust my spear. Simultaneously, the knight’s lance tore at the scales of my armor.
Yet, it failed to seize my life. On the contrary, unable to withstand the impact, the knight lost his grip on the reins and fell from his horse. The clamor of his fall was soon buried beneath the battlefield’s roar.
The knights following him met the same fate.
Though their armor was scratched or damaged, they failed to inflict any significant wounds. With each clash, another knight fell. Seizing the moment, our light infantry closed the gaps between the knight’s formations. What was meant to maximize the effect of their lance charges now became their downfall.
“Target the horses! Sever their legs! Ensure they cannot flee!”
Naturally, the knights didn’t take kindly to this. Each swing of their heavy swords caused our lightly armored infantry to bleed and fall.
But the chaos we had sought had been achieved. Amid the disorder, some of our soldiers, wielding massive scythes, began slicing at the horses’ legs.
And soon, results followed. Preoccupied with the soldiers charging at them, the knights failed to notice the threat at their feet. This was a tactic I had long contemplated when facing knights.
Lure them into a charge, let them disrupt our ranks, and then have a reserve force ready to cause chaos and unhorse them.
Considering most of our soldiers were farmers, we opted for scythes—more familiar and effective for toppling horses than spears. Naturally, there were casualties. But our light infantry was a unit formed for this purpose, fully prepared for significant sacrifices.
Thanks to their efforts, our heavy infantry had ample time to reorganize. Soldiers on the battlefield are highly aligned to shifts in momentum. The sergeant quickly grasped his next move. It was time to avenge the attack that nearly broke them.
To pull the tilting tide of battle decisively in our favour!
“Unhorse every one of those Latins! It’s time to avenge the humiliation of centuries past!”
The humiliation of centuries past.
This call awakened the soldiers’ deep-seated hatred for the Latins. Watching their intensified fervor, I found myself immersed in a long-forgotten regret. If anyone questioned why someone so young harbored such reflections, I’d have no defense.
How could one suppress the surge of emotions that overwhelmed them upon witnessing the battlefield?
Adrianos and his cavalry decimated the enemy.
The superiority of our spearmen had been decisive. With the anvil shattered and the knights immobilized, they no longer influenced the outcome of the battle. Adrianos chose to pursue the fleeing enemy rather than engage in the chaos, ensuring they could never regroup.
The outcome of the battle was now unmistakably clear.
Unlike past expeditions, this victory was achieved purely through our own strength.
Opting for a one-on-one confrontation rather than collaborating with Venice had its rewards. While reducing Venice’s influence was a factor, the primary goal of this battle was to instill hope in the people of Morea and the Empire.
It was about helping those long resigned to defeat believe once more in the possibility of success.
Of course, this didn’t mean we were entirely severing ties with Venice.
With this victory, it was time to reclaim Athens, the symbol of Greece.
To achieve this, mercy was necessary. The citizens’ hatred for the Latins was understandable. Yet, it was unreasonable to expel those who had taken root over 200 years simply for being descendants of invaders.
A revenger is cruel to the defeated.
But a ruler extends mercy to them.
A sudden thought made me lift my left hand, which gripped the reins. Along with it, I made a promise to myself. The reason I held this spear was not for revenge. I had not mounted my horse driven by hatred alone.
“I forbid further pursuit. Let those who have lost their will to fight express their intent to surrender. Though we have raised arms against each other amidst the chaos, let us remember that we share the same blood and faith. The blood spilled today is vengeance enough for the past.”
Many still breathed heavily, unable to quell their hatred. Even so, they obeyed my command.
Those who had accepted their defeat were no longer enemies. Watching them submit to the offered ropes rather than resist with swords, I repeated in my mind once more.
Never forget.
The reason I stand here is not for revenge but to save the Empire on the brink of collapse.
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