EMPIRE REWRITTEN [Isekai ? Alt-History ? Strategy]

Chapter 72: Through the Hot Gates

George Sphrantzes stepped forward, ever the practical advisor, and asked quietly, "Father, have there been any other Ottoman movements we should know of? Any forces gathering nearby, or strongholds still holding firm?"

Father Nikolaos nodded thoughtfully. "We have heard that garrisons in smaller villages to the east have pulled out, heading either to Domokos or back toward Thessaly. The Turks seem to be abandoning the countryside in panic. Only the larger forts with substantial troops, like Domokos to the north, remain manned. And even there, they say the enemy is shaken by how quickly you have advanced." The priest's face grew solemn. "But take heed, Emperor—some Turks have vowed scorched earth as they retreat. In villages a day's ride east, they burned crops and took revenge on Greek peasants when news of Bodonitsa's fall reached them. Evil still lurks even in retreat." Constantine's jaw tightened at that; the thought of his people suffering retaliation weighed on him. He placed a reassuring hand on Nikolaos's shoulder. "Thank you, Father. Your counsel – and the courage of your flock – will not be forgotten. We will be on guard."

As dusk settled, Constantine convened a quick council with his key commanders in the town square, beneath a hastily raised imperial banner. The sweet smell of incense from a thanksgiving service inside the church mingled with the smoke of victory bonfires lit by citizens on the ramparts.

The Emperor's face was illuminated by torchlight as he addressed George Sphrantzes, Captain Andreas, and his brother Thomas. "The tide of fortune seems to be turning," Constantine began, his voice measured but carrying a current of emotion. "In a matter of days, we have marched through Thermopylae and taken Zetouni without a fight.

Our enemy flees at our approach. Thanks be to God, the vision of a free Greece no longer seems a distant dream but is happening before our very eyes." He gestured around at the celebrating town. "Every village that raises our flag, every church bell ringing freely, is a sign that the long night of occupation is receding."

He paused, scanning the faces of his officers. By the torchlight, Thomas's young face was flush with excitement, Andreas appeared steadfast and attentive, and Sphrantzes's eyes gleamed with cautious optimism. Constantine continued, voice ringing louder so that nearby soldiers and townsfolk could hear as well: "But we must not grow complacent.

For every step we take forward, the Ottoman Sultan's anger grows. We are entering lands long under the Turk's yoke; with each liberated town, we strike a blow to his pride and power. He will not remain idle. The shifting tides can easily shift again if we are reckless." The Emperor's gaze drifted upward for a moment as if seeing beyond the dark sky. "When we set out, many thought us foolish or desperate. Now, the impossible is becoming reality. See how God favors our cause, yet we must show ourselves worthy of His aid.

Our forefathers defended these lands with blood; now it falls to us to reclaim them with wisdom and courage." The assembled men thumped their fists to their breastplates or nodded firmly, moved by his words.

After this brief speech, Constantine turned to his inner circle for their counsel on the next steps. He trusted these men to voice honest opinions. Thomas, his youngest brother, could barely contain his eagerness. "Brother, this is our chance to press our advantage!"

Thomas exclaimed, eyes bright. He pointed in the direction of Neopatras and beyond. "The Turks are on the run. If we strike Neopatras at first light, we'll catch that feeble garrison before they can either fortify or flee with all their loot. And beyond Neopatras lies the road to Domokos and Thessaly. We can keep this momentum and perhaps free all of Greece up to Larissa before the Sultan can react. It's a golden opportunity." Thomas spoke quickly, slicing the air with his hand for emphasis. His enthusiasm was infectious; a few nearby officers murmured agreement, inspired by the prospect of continuing the string of victories.

George Sphrantzes cleared his throat gently, the man's measured voice providing a counterpoint. "Your Majesty, our progress is indeed heartening, but Thomas speaks of a rapid advance – I feel compelled to raise the matter of logistics." He glanced at the Emperor and around the circle. "We have pushed far from our original bases in the Morea in a short time. Our supply lines now stretch back through Livadeia and Thebes, all the way south. Every new stronghold we take needs a garrison left behind, which thins our ranks for the field. Food and ammunition must be brought up to sustain us. We should ensure that Livadeia, Bodonitsa, and now Zetouni are secure and provisioned before moving further. Perhaps we should send messengers back to Thebes or Glarentza to organize supply caravans, and to bring any reserve troops forward." He gave a polite nod to Thomas. "We all wish to capitalize on this success, but if our men run out of bread or powder in the mountains, enthusiasm alone won't carry the day." Sphrantzes's words brought a sober hush; some of the junior officers looked at one another, realizing they had been riding a wave of adrenaline that might not last forever.

Captain Andreas weighed in next, his voice gravelly from years of barking orders on the battlefield. "We've dealt the enemy a strong blow, that's certain. But George is right—we can't ignore our rear. Also, consider the risk: an Ottoman force could be lurking out there," he gestured toward the dark silhouettes of hills to the north and west, "waiting to catch us overextended. Perhaps some force from Domoko or Thessaly might try to cut our supply road at Thermopylae, trapping us up here. We've been lucky that the garrisons lost their nerve so far. At Domokos, the enemy may decide to fight hard, and Murad could send cavalry raiders behind us." He folded his arms across his chest. "In short, we must be bold and careful. Taking Neopatras seems low risk given what Father Nikolaos reports, and it will further secure our flank. But before any push beyond that, I'd scout aggressively. We should send our best scouts out toward Domokos and even towards the Thessalian plain tonight, under cover of darkness, to learn what we can of enemy movements."

Constantine listened to each in turn, nodding thoughtfully. Thomas's boldness, George's logistical prudence, Andreas's caution, all were valid and valuable points. The Emperor felt a swell of pride in this small council; they were not sycophants, but loyal men giving him honest counsel, just as he needed.

At last he spoke, making the decision. "Thomas is right that we cannot afford to lose momentum—Neopatras will be our next objective, and immediately. We march at dawn." Thomas grinned and thumped his fist to his chest. "However," Constantine added, "we will do so with our eyes open. George, begin organizing wagons here in Zetouni to gather grain, salted meat, anything the townsfolk can spare for the army. We'll repay them justly later. Also dispatch riders back to Bodonitsa and Livadeia to report our success and to urge them to send forward any supplies they can. Andreas, you have leave to send out scouts at once. Pick men who know the local terrain; perhaps Father Nikolaos can suggest some locals to guide them. I want to know what lies between Neopatras and Domokos—if any Ottoman forces are rallying." Constantine placed his hands on his belt and concluded firmly, "Tonight we rest behind Zetouni's walls and tend to the troops. At first light, with God's blessing, we set out to liberate Neopatras. From there, we'll judge the best course into Thessaly."

The plan set, the council broke up. Before they dispersed, Father Nikolaos led a short prayer there in the torch-lit square, thanking God for the bloodless victory at Zetouni and asking divine guidance for the battles ahead. Soldiers began lighting campfires and sharing humble dinners provided by the grateful townspeople. As Constantine made his way to a small house offered for his lodging, he noted the mixture of relief and determination on everyone's faces. The tide truly had turned, the only question was how far it would carry them.