"Manuel, thank you very much. May Allah always protect you and your path forward." The young man named Giovanni Giustiniani Longo responded to the Caesar's courtesy with frankness and gratitude, taking his outstretched right hand.
As mentioned earlier, Manuel and Giovanni had already met. At that time, the Caesar and his family were on their way to Alexander for a pilgrimage, and both of them had concealed their true identities: the former disguised as a merchant family from Bosporus, while the latter acted as an ordinary merchant from Genoa. In that chance encounter, they both left a good first impression on each other.
At this moment, Manuel didn't expect fate to be so miraculous. Just as he was about to say something more, he suddenly remembered that among the Latin mercenaries who came to help him last year for sentiment and wealth, one of the leaders was a Ligurian named Giovanni…
As if seeing what the Caesar was thinking, Giovanni laughed frankly and heartily: "However, Caesar, in fact, I joined your army at the end of last year, albeit as a foreign mercenary."
At his mention, Manuel immediately confirmed that he was indeed the Giovanni who had previously been recruited by Bosporus. While realizing this, the Caesar also admired this righteous man who had already shown courage and nobility in historical records.
At the same time, he also noticed that besides several armored knights standing beside Giovanni, there was also a young man with a distinctly different temperament. He had short dark grey hair and a pair of dark green eyes. Although he was wearing the light chainmail common in Northern Italy, he had a refined demeanor, and his attitude was slightly reserved when he saw the Caesar.
"Excuse me, Giovanni, who is this person next to you?" Out of curiosity and politeness, Manuel extended his hand to Giovanni and the young man, asking.
"Ah, he is Ubertino Posculo," Giovanni chuckled, pushing the somewhat reserved Latin man beside him forward, "His family is from the Principality of Milan, and his presence here also represents the civilian attitude of Northern Italy. He will inform Caesar of the specifics."
"Very well," Manuel nodded and waved to the young man named Ubertino, "Come on, time is short, so let's make it brief."
At the same time, within the Venetian community in Constantinople, Marco Barbaro, the Venetian Ambassador to the Roman Empire, was sipping oriental tea, quietly listening to his servant report on the progress of the siege. Incidentally, this method of drinking tea he was currently using was shared by Bosporus Caesar Manuel during his many years of interaction with Venice. Once introduced to the mainland, it was favored by many high-ranking officials and nobles, including Barbaro.
"So the reinforcements sent by the Genoese Galata community really went to help the Romans defend the city." After listening to the report, Barbaro's smile immediately became subtle, "Impressive, impressive. This Caesar was actually able to persuade his old enemies, the Genoese, and us Venetians to stand with him."
"Father, didn't you say that the interests of the Galata district and Genoa's Ligurian homeland are sometimes not aligned? If that's the case, then it's not so unimaginable that the Roman Caesar could persuade Galata, is it?" The young man sitting next to the Ambassador, his son Nicolò Barbaro, asked his father in confusion.
As the young Nicolò said, Galata, whose full name is Magnifica Communità di Pera, is actually a very special overseas exclave for Genoa. Although the leased territory accepts appointments and governance from Genoa's homeland, it relies more on its own interests. Even if it goes against homeland interests, as long as its fundamental interests are not touched, Galata can still maintain a very high degree of autonomy.
And just as the Venetian Ambassador thought, in this battle of Constantinople, Caesar Manuel used this point to bring Galata over to his side.
"Tsk," Barbaro reined in his smile and snorted coldly, "That's true. After all, the Genoese of Galata sometimes even sacrifice the interests of Genoa's homeland in pursuit of their own interests. Moreover, the Genoese's method of governing colonies through family local agents is vastly different from ours in Venice. Because of this, even if they are repeatedly defeated by us, they can still cling to every inch of land they parasitize like hermit crabs."
"Then what will you do, Father?" The young boy looked at his father with eyes full of anticipation and admiration. In Nicolò's eyes, his father, who was highly regarded by the Republic and the family, could perfectly solve every problem he faced.
"What to do? We'll see." Barbaro shrugged helplessly, "Are we going to withdraw our promises to our allies and watch them be invaded by infidels? However, this Caesar is indeed as capable and experienced as reported from home. We must be wary of him in the future."
Outside the city, Ottoman Sultan Murad II, who had begun the siege of Constantinople, looked at the impregnable Theodosian Walls and the constantly retreating conscripted militias. He could only order them to return to their positions with a headache, and instead brought up several medium to large cannons from the army, attempting to breach the ancient fortifications with the power of new-era firearms.
It was only then that the Sultan had the energy to focus on his own soldiers. Seeing the casualties among those who tried to scale the walls, the old Sultan, unable to bear it, sighed and retreated to the rear, calling for the Grand Vizier who accompanied the army, "Take good care of them. After all, they are for me, and for this siege that should not have happened."
"But Sultan," Halil Pasha objected somewhat indignantly, "These are just insignificant commoners, and some of them are even Christians who do not believe in Allah."
"Do it!" Murad II commanded Bey Halil decisively, "They are also my subjects."
Ordered by the Sultan, Çandarlı Halil Pasha had no choice but to follow his command and prepare to arrange for them. However, before bidding farewell to the Sultan, the Grand Vizier, out of his loyalty and insight, advised: "Sultan, although your benevolence and magnanimity are world-renowned, many foolish people who believe in other religions attribute the recent plagues entirely to you. Your acts of kindness are merely hypocrisy in the eyes of these ignorant sheep…"
"Enough!" Murad did not finish listening to the Grand Vizier and ordered him to leave quickly. A while later, hearing screams from the front lines, the Sultan felt a sudden premonition and immediately had someone report the front-line information.
In less than fifteen minutes, his personal guard centurion Karada Khizr reported everything that had happened on the front line, "Reporting to the Sultan, the Romans also used cannons—they bombarded our positions with small siege cannons and grenades filled with 'Greek Fire'. The artillery suffered heavy casualties, and several rather large cannons were destroyed!"
"Bastard!" Murad II, not knowing what to do for a moment, could only utter a useless threat from his imperial carriage.