EMPIRE REWRITTEN [Isekai ? Alt-History ? Strategy]

Chapter 61: On the Road to Kingship

Behind him, the escort followed as a disciplined column. Horses' hooves struck the uneven ground in a synchronized clatter, kicking up patches of mud, while wagons groaned under their burdens. Soldiers rode in pairs or small groups, each bearing the Palaiologos emblem on their shields or tunics, and standard-bearers held tall banners that flapped and snapped in the crisp breeze. The entire procession seemed like a single living entity, its pulse measured by each measured footstep and grinding wheel.

By the time the first stone houses of Krestena came into view, word of Constantine's approach had clearly traveled ahead. The news had done its work, whether carried by official messengers or whispered from one villager to the next. At the outskirts of the town, a modest gathering of locals stood waiting. Faces peered out from beneath rough woolen hoods and cloth caps, marked by curiosity, hope—and perhaps a hint of apprehension. They sensed something significant was stirring, even if they could not yet name it.

A wooden archway marked the entrance to Krestena, its beams rough-hewn but freshly painted. As Constantine and his retinue passed beneath, a sudden clamor of church bells rang out, welcoming the travelers with a pealing cadence. The sound was clear and bright, echoing through the narrow streets. Immediately, a blend of aromas overtook them: the yeasty warmth of baking bread, the pungent crackle of firewood in open hearths, and the damp, rich scent of earth still moist from recent rainfall.

Though Krestena was no grand city, it possessed a simple vitality that made it feel alive under the winter sky. Its clusters of stone dwellings were arranged around a small central square, where the whitewashed walls of the local church reflected the afternoon sun. A few children, too young to worry about propriety, ran alongside the procession, pointing at the soldiers and giggling at the sight of so many banners and helmets.

Constantine guided his black stallion forward, nodding in brief acknowledgment to those brave enough to meet his gaze. This was more than a pause on the long road to Mystras—it was an opportunity to see how the people responded, to sow the seeds of loyalty and unity. He could feel the weight of every staring eye, every hushed word whispered among the townsfolk.

Yes, something had changed. And for the first time, standing at the threshold of Krestena, it felt as though the empire's fate was not only his burden to shoulder but also a shared cause, reflected in the hope he glimpsed on the villagers' faces.

Constantine swung down from his saddle in front of a modest stone building perched at the edge of Krestena. The structure was squat but sturdy, with thick walls meant to endure winter rains and harsh winds. Next to it, a small stable sheltered a row of well-tended horses, each tethered at the front. Above the main door, a freshly painted wooden sign read KRESTENA POST in bold, larger letters, and beneath it, in smaller script, Tachis Ippos. Together, they formed a quiet but potent symbol of an empire determined to modernize through the efforts of Constantine.

A wiry man emerged from the building, dressed in a simple brown tunic. Ink smudged his fingers, hinting at a life spent handling documents and quills. He bowed at once, keeping his head lowered out of respect.

"Despot," he said, voice steady despite his humble posture. "Welcome to Krestena's post. I am Petros, the station master."

Constantine returned the greeting with a nod. His gaze traveled over the stable, noting the lean, strong flanks of the horses, each one fitted with well-made bridles and saddles. These were the backbone of his fledgling Tachis Ippos relay network—the speed and stamina that would carry messages swiftly across the realm.

"How many riders do you have here, Petros?" he asked.

"Six, Despot," Petros answered promptly. "We keep two on constant standby. The others rotate for rest or local deliveries. With the new stations, a message can reach Mystras in only a few days, whereas before, it took well over a week."