EMPIRE REWRITTEN [Isekai ? Alt-History ? Strategy]

Chapter 64: Embarking on the Mission

"I should be the one leading this mission," Andreas said finally, his voice heavy and deliberate.

Constantine offered a wry half-smile, tinged with the calm cunning of practiced diplomacy. "And leave the Hexamilion undefended while you chase glory across the sea? Not today, my friend."

Andreas turned his head slightly, brow furrowing. "You need someone with real battlefield experience on this mission. Aristos is a fine officer, but he hasn't led men in a campaign like this."

Constantine clapped a hand on Andreas' shoulder, his grip firm. "I need you here. The Hexamilion needs you." He let the words hang between them for a moment. "This expedition is important, yes, but if the Ottomans test our defenses while you're away, who would I trust to hold the wall?"

Andreas exhaled deeply, grudging acceptance coloring his tone. "You have a knack for making bitter truth easier to swallow."

"Call it the grace of a crown," Constantine replied, his voice warm with subtle humor.

A voice cut through their exchange. "My Emperor, Captain Andreas."

They turned to see Aristos, his armor polished but practical, his stance straight-backed and disciplined. His dark hair was tied back neatly, and his sword belt sat snug against his waist. Behind him, the last few sailors were making their final rounds, ensuring everything was secure.

"All is ready," Aristos reported. "The ships are fully loaded, the men are aboard, and the wind favors our departure."

Constantine nodded. "Good. Then all that remains is for us to entrust this mission to you."

Constantine folded his arms as he looked over the final preparations, then turned to Aristos. "You have one thousand solidi at your disposal," he said. "Spend them wisely, arms, provisions, bribes if needed. But no waste." A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "They're among the first we minted, after all. Treat them carefully."

Aristos smirked. "I'll make sure they don't end up in a dice game, my Emperor."

Constantine stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Your mission is to aid the Albanians, not to fight their war for them. Train them, arm them, and reinforce their siege, but do not squander your men on reckless engagements. If Gjirokastër falls, the Ottomans will strike back with force. Be prepared."

Aristos nodded, his expression serious. "I understand."

Andreas, still watching the loading of the last crates, finally spoke. "Stay disciplined, Aristos. If things turn, don't try to be a hero. A good officer wins the war by staying alive."

"I'll bear that in mind, Captain," Aristos said with formal respect, a subtle nod acknowledging the veteran's wisdom.

The gangplanks were being drawn up now, the ropes loosened from the moorings. The cheers of the crowd swelled as the sails of The Kyrenia unfurled, catching the wind like the wings of a great bird.

Constantine took a step back, his hands clasped behind him. "May the Lord guide your path," he said, raising his voice over the growing din. "And may you return in triumph."

With a final salute, Aristos turned on his heel and strode up the ramp onto the ship. The gangplanks were pulled away, and the fleet slowly drifted from the docks.

Andreas and Constantine stood side by side, watching as the ships moved into open waters. The banners of the empire fluttered in the wind, and for a brief moment, the horizon was filled with the promise of something greater, something more than just survival.

But as the ships grew smaller, fading into the distance, Constantine's expression darkened. He had sent them into a firestorm.

The Voyage and Arrival at Corfu