On the third day of Alexander's defense of Akçaabat Fortress, a long-awaited thunderstorm broke out.
"How refreshing, this is truly the summer created by the Holy Father," Alexander muttered contentedly after the rain paused, having repeatedly counted the results of the previous two attacks. "Alright, by tonight, their next letter should..."
Before he could finish, a faint yet delightful "Ah!" sound came from a patrolling soldier. About half an hour later, he indeed received another letter from those lords.
The content of this letter still detailed the location of the Bosporus Army's provisions, but unlike before, this time the lords specifically noted that this location contained most of the Bosporus's food storage.
They also added that the Bosporus Army would conduct its routine guard change that night, making their defenses weakest. If the provisions there were burned, the Bosporus would likely be forced to retreat to Torul or even Machka, and they hoped Prince Alexander would handle the matter cautiously.
This message, whether true or false, genuinely moved Alexander. Therefore, after pondering for a moment, he immediately summoned his subordinate nobles to discuss it and ask for their opinions.
After Alexander's lengthy discourse, Andrea nervously pursed his lips. Getting the main storage point of the Bosporus's provisions so quickly, wasn't it too coincidental? Although such absurd things were not uncommon in Roman history, he inexplicably felt a subtle unease about it happening here.
He offered his opinion, "Your Highness, they have contacted us twice and already provided such a confidential piece of intelligence. I believe it would be wise to be cautious..."
This time, his words were again interrupted by Alexander. "'The road is narrow and few find it.' It is precisely because we are at a critical juncture that we cannot miss any potential opportunity. If we force back the usurping rebels of the Bosporus this time, those local lords who are actually more willing to stand with us will be more willing to take the correct stance. So we must win, even if it's by luck."
His speech inspired many of his nobles, and even Andrea couldn't find the courage to refute anything. He could only plead, "But Your Highness, your brother is either under house arrest or has defected. You are now the Empire of Trebizond's only legitimate claimant. If anything happens to you, our faction will completely collapse. So please do not put yourself in danger; please entrust the night raid to us."
Hearing Andrea's earnest words, Alexander was momentarily touched. But to re-establish his prestige, after a moment of thought, he stubbornly insisted on leading the night raid himself. Seeing this, Andrea could only change his request, "In that case, Your Highness, please allow me to follow and guard Your Highness, just in case."
This time, Alexander did not refuse but readily agreed. After all, the previous defeat had made him realize his true capabilities. In that case, it was better to bring an old noble with military experience, even if that person's skill was only mediocre.
That night, Alexander gathered 500 troops and set off from a hidden path behind the castle, rushing towards the location of the provisions mentioned in the letter. He had originally planned to bring 750 soldiers, but due to Andrea's repeated dissuasion, he ultimately left nearly 400 men to defend the castle.
Since the location mentioned in the letter was quite a distance from Akçaabat's fortress, Alexander's forces did not arrive until midnight.
"The brightness of the fire indeed matches what it would look like during a guard change," Andrea nodded, muttering.
But as the army drew closer, a young noble asked with some concern, "But why are there structures like watchtowers? Are they archers? And why are there water droplets?"
"It's normal for archers to guard provisions. As for the water droplets, it must be raining. Speaking of which, this place is quite open, very suitable for combined infantry and cavalry operations. If it were me, I would definitely ambush an elite force here and wipe out the attacking army before the heavy rain came," Alexander said casually, a little absentmindedly.
"Hahaha, even Your Highness can think of such tactics, yet these usurping rebel forces haven't... Hmm, even Your Highness can think of such tactics?" Andrea began to feel that something was amiss. "Perhaps, Your Highness, we should retreat."
"What nonsense are you talking about? We should be no more than fifty or sixty pule rong from the target now..." Before he could finish, a stray arrow suddenly pierced the silent air, whistling past.
At first, Alexander thought it was one of those arrow-less messenger arrows, but as the vanguard infantry fell, he realized with horror that the fire at the "target location" had become much brighter than before, and a loud rumbling sound came from the enemy's position, signaling that they had fallen into the Bosporus's ambush.
"It's an ambush, it's an ambush! We've been tricked, Your Highness, retreat quickly!" Andrea hastily shouted to him, and Alexander, without any hesitation, immediately gave the order to withdraw.
At the same time, Manuel stood on the temporary watchtower, shaking his head with some dissatisfaction. "Is the Holy Father not in favor of human efforts? It just had to rain at this moment. If it weren't raining now, the cannons, muskets, and mountain light cavalry could have pursued them fiercely. But letting the infantry pursue should also be fine, after all, our army isn't the only one suffering from the mud."
"Your Highness speaks wisely," several familiar lords and landowners standing beside him said with fawning smiles. These were the lords who had previously written the feigned surrender letter to Alexander. After defecting to the Bosporus, they had cooperated very well with Manuel in staging this elaborate play to curry favor with their new master.
Just as Manuel was about to say some words of praise and comfort, the figures of Tukharovsky and Aidian came into his sight. "Ah, they're back. It seems Akçaabat should be in our hands now."
Just as Manuel had expected, under the pursuit of the numerous and well-equipped Bosporus Army, Alexander's forces completely collapsed, suffering heavy casualties. Among them, the old noble Andrea, while covering Alexander's retreat, was caught and cut down by the pursuing Bosporus light cavalry, and was directly trampled to death by the chaotic troops.
Only Alexander, riding his pony and accompanied by his personal guards, escaped the chaotic battlefield and rushed back to Akçaabat Castle. Just as he thought he was safe, a small shower of arrows suddenly rained down from the castle, shattering his sense of false hope.
"Go, to the White Sheep's Erzurum! They shouldn't have full control of Akçaabat's urban area yet!" Alexander, surprisingly, was particularly perceptive in such situations.
"But Your Highness, in that case, wouldn't we..." One of his personal guards voiced his doubts, but Alexander immediately cut him off,
"If you don't want to die, hurry up! I want to live, and I must live!"