The Unjust System and My War-Crazy Self

"We can only send a large number of warships to blockade the city and try our best to prevent even a single reinforcement and a single grain of wheat from being transported into the city walls."

"There is a cliff to the south of Constantinople. There is no foothold. Even if our soldiers are on warships, they cannot get up there."

"The only breakthrough direction we can choose is here!"

Sultan Mumona took out her dagger inlaid with gold, silver and jewels and stabbed it hard into the map.

“Western Wall!”

"Report to the great king." At this moment, the prime minister in the court of Sultan Mumona, an elderly man with white hair and beard, finally couldn't help but stand up and speak.

"Although it's a little late to say this now, I still advise you to use peaceful means whenever possible to force that pagan emperor to surrender the city."

"For more than a thousand years, the Western Wall of Constantinople has mocked countless enemies who besieged it."

"Even if we have 200,000 soldiers, it will still be difficult to capture a city like this."

"If we delay for even a few months, reinforcements from the west will arrive continuously, and then we will be forced to return empty-handed."

"If such a costly siege fails, it will inevitably severely weaken our strength and prestige, further stimulating invasions by enemies in all directions and rebellion by ambitious individuals."

"So I implore you to think it over carefully."

"If Your Majesty agrees, I am willing to personally serve as a negotiating envoy and go to persuade the pagan emperor in the city."

In the eyes of this prime minister, war is a pure gamble. Even if you win, there may not be a good outcome. If you can avoid using force, try to avoid it.

"Bastard!" However, the prime minister's words only earned him a merciless rebuke from Mumona Sultan.

"When did you become as timid as a lamb!?"

"Constantinople is the heart of the Osman Kingdom. This city must be in our hands!"

"I have been preparing for this battle for so long, how can I give up halfway?"

"If those weak and incompetent pagans think they can stop me with their own strength, then let them come."

"I will grind them all into dust and let them know how miserable the end will be if they go against me, who is blessed by the True God!"

"Warriors," Mumona Sultan shouted, "Tell me, who in this world can rival the warriors of Osman!?"

"nobody!"

"The Othman warriors are the most powerful warriors in the world!"

"May the true God always protect the Sultan!" the generals in the tent shouted enthusiastically.

Soon, thunderous cheers were heard from outside the tent.

"Hmph." Sultan Mumona snorted and looked at her prime minister.

The old man realized that he had spoken out of turn, so he knelt down and left the king's tent.

However, he did not notice the hint of gloom hidden in Mumona Sultan's contemptuous eyes.

If it were an ordinary time, Sultan Mumona might have listened to the prime minister's advice.

But Mumona's process of rising to power was too dirty.

He swore an oath on his father's coffin, then broke his promise, tricked his brothers and sisters into coming and killed them all, forced all the concubines to be buried with his father, slaughtered the court, and pretended to recruit the chieftains of the eastern grasslands, but ended up killing them as soon as they arrived...

So now Mumona urgently needs a bloody and glorious victory to establish her own lofty prestige.

The fierce and wolves-like warriors under her command will not follow a villain who only knows how to play tricks.

Unfortunately, Constantinople was just the right size and length, so the Normans had to suffer even more.

Anyway, they have been used to suffering for hundreds of years.

It’s a pity that eight out of ten things in life are not as we wish.

Before Mumona could continue discussing the battle plan with her soldiers, bad news came.

"Your Majesty, urgent news!"

"Sochia is lost!"

Chapter 11 - Landlubber vs. Landlubber

"Trash, a bunch of trash!"

"I handed over three thousand elite soldiers to Governor Mohai and asked him to defend Mohai for me, and this is how he repays me?"

After listening to the messenger's report, Mumona flew into a rage and swept all the exquisite porcelain and rare antiques on the table to the ground with a bang.

"Dilraba is also a waste!"

"I even praised her bravery and promoted her to Pasha."

"And he died in such an ignominious way."

"She has failed me so much. Send out orders to arrest her entire family and execute them!"

After giving the order in an extremely cold tone, Mumona had time to carefully question the messenger for details.

Then he became even more furious.

"Three thousand people!?"

"How did 3,000 men capture Sochia?"

"Even if the defenders were a group of monkeys, it's impossible for three thousand people to capture a fortified city in one day."

"Are there Khitans?"

"Are the Khitans so great?"

Although rumors were circulating everywhere about how terrifying and warlike the Khitans were, Mumona, who had experienced war many times, did not believe those nonsense rumors.

It's just two arms supporting a head, how strong can it be?

It is clear that Dilraba is just a figurehead, Governor Mohai is just a figurehead, and the Sochia garrison is neglecting their duties.

This created a gap in Osman's siege of Constantinople.

Such a gap is likely to bring unpredictable changes to the siege of Constantinople.

Just as Mumona was thinking about how to punish the people who sneaked back from Sochia, she suddenly heard screams coming from outside the tent. The sound was getting louder and louder and could not be stopped at all.

So, surrounded by the crowd, she walked out of the tent and headed towards the direction of the exclamation, climbing up to look into the distance.

Then she saw several warships flying flags with black crosses on a white background appear on the sea.

[Host, there's movement in the main storyline.]

System 12345 was trying its best to repair the program while happily reporting to Shu Yichao.

[The impression you left on Mumona is already ambiguous.]

[This means that you, the host, have entered her eyes.]

【A good sign.】

[Perform well, host. I wish you can conquer this dangerous beautiful girl soon.]

The waves were sparkling and the wind was blowing strongly. Shu Yichao stood at the forefront of the warship with a scimitar on his waist and a bow and arrow in his hand, looking at the city in the distance, which seemed dilapidated but still magnificent.

"Hahaha!"

"Constantinople, here I come!"

"I have to say, this modeling is really impressive."

“It’s just like the real thing.”

"It's a pity that this flag doesn't seem right." Shu Yichao looked back at the white flag with a black cross hanging on the warship and muttered.

Originally, according to Shu Yichao's own idea, the soldiers under his command were all from the grassland forces.

Based on his sense of immersion, he could either hang the flag of the Liao Dynasty, the flag of the Jin Dynasty, or the flag of Mongolia - but the problem was that he had no idea what these three flags looked like.

Later he wanted to hang the Roman flag, but after gesturing for a long time, the tailor still couldn't figure out what he wanted to do.

In the end, they had no choice but to use the cross flag, at least to let the people of Constantinople know that reinforcements were coming.

"The Othmani warships are coming!"

A scream reached Shu Yichao's ears. He turned his head and saw Mrs. Marti's face was pale, and her fingers were trembling as she pointed into the distance.

To enter Constantinople, they had to sail through the Bosphorus Strait into the Golden Horn.

However, at this moment, the narrow Bos Strait was crowded with at least hundreds of warships.

Compared with Osman’s huge navy, the four warships and four grain ships that Shu Yichao and others were on were like ants in front of an elephant.

Isn't it said that the Osman Navy is weak?

What's going on with this huge fleet?

Mrs. Marty secretly groaned in her heart.

"Khitan Baturu." Mrs. Marti spoke quickly: "We must retreat immediately and find an opportunity to enter Constantinople from other places."

"Retreat quickly."

"It's too late if you don't run!"

Then she saw Shu Yichao smile, nod, and then wave his elite scimitar.

"Brothers, attack!"

"What!?"

"Where are they coming from?" Mumona frowned as she watched the scene from a high place.

"Could it be that they are here to rescue Constantinople?"

"Send a message to Batulu Pasha." She waved her hand, as if it were as easy as asking someone to crush an ant.

"Let him sink these ships."

"Then cut off the heads of all the passengers and pile them in front of Constantinople."

"Pasha!" An Osmani officer with a green face, taking unsteady steps, grabbing the wooden boards of the ship's side, vomiting and yelling at the Osmani naval commander, Bartolu.

"The Sultan has ordered you to destroy that small fleet immediately and not let a single man escape."

Bartolu's face suddenly turned greener than Officer Osman's.

Your Majesty the Sultan, you have great confidence in our navy.

But don’t you know what our navy is like?

The Ottomans were fierce cavalry, but once they went to sea...

Not to mention that this huge navy of more than 20,000 people was hastily formed in half a year for the siege of Constantinople.

The warships were hastily built, old, clumsy to operate, slow, and some even disintegrated while sailing.

Moreover, since most of the Osmani warriors could not swim, the sailors were filled with slaves of various ethnic groups, bankrupt citizens, and captured men, and people fell into the water and drowned every day.

As for bumper boats, running aground, leaking, and catching fire are all very common.

This kind of navy can bully the enemy in a narrow strait by relying on its numerical advantage, but if the enemy wants to escape, how can they catch up?

However, Batulu Pasha soon found that he no longer had to worry about this problem.

Because he was surprised to find that the opponent did not run away at all, but instead raised the sails and rushed towards him!

"preparation--"

Shu Yichao took his flagship and rushed towards the nearest Osman warship with great momentum.

At his command, all the grassland archers on the ship drew their bows and arrows at the same time.

"put!"

“Swish swish!!”

A dark shadow passed by, bringing greetings from the god of death.

The rain of arrows from Shu Yichao's side was accurate and fierce. In just a moment, dozens of bright blood flowers popped out on the Osman warship!

The shackled rowing slave watched the soldiers on the boat fall to the ground in large numbers, and even suspected that he was dreaming.

"Shoot arrows and fight back!" The commander of the Osman warship tried to command his troops to fight back.