The reason Rom Pasha was so startled was because he realized that his opponent at this moment seemed very different from what he had imagined.
Leaving aside the fact that the enemy's equipment was just as good as his own, and their forces were clearly much more numerous, just looking at the vigor they displayed, it was clear that these Romans were no worse than his own, and perhaps even subtly superior.
At this moment, Rom Pasha suddenly felt regret, deep regret; he shouldn't have charged forward so directly.
But now that it had come to this, he couldn't very well issue a retreat order.
So he could only hypnotize himself, "This is an illusion, this must be an illusion," and then, gritting his teeth, he ordered, "All troops attack! There's nothing to fear from these fragile Romans! Allah protects us!"
Upon receiving their General's command, this Ottoman unit immediately charged fearlessly at the enemy, just as they had been trained to do for years.
In contrast, however, their General retreated into the main army, merely overseeing and commanding from there, rather than leading the charge.
As the Ottoman prepared to charge their enemies, Manuel, who was directly commanding nearly eight thousand Bosporus soldiers, was somewhat bewildered: they were just charging like that?
Logically, shouldn't they have engaged in a standoff, looked for a breakthrough point, and then, seizing an opening, struck and disengaged?
However, he didn't object to their current reckless behavior, as it actually tipped the scales in favor of the Bosporus.
The subsequent developments were exactly as Caesar had predicted; this Ottoman unit, which possessed only brute courage, was essentially unable to achieve any effective breakthrough against the long-planned, or rather, long-prepared Bosporus Army.
Since the heavy cavalry, which was most effective in a breakthrough assault, was not under his command, Rom Pasha's attacks over the next three or four hours were easily repelled by the enemy, no matter how he directed them.
On the contrary, his own side even lost more than ten veteran Janissaries.
"This cannot continue," Rom Pasha thought, gritting his teeth after another failed assault.
He had initially thought that the Ottoman's sheer strength would allow him to directly overwhelm the enemy forces before him, but he never imagined that they would be able to defend with such ease this time.
"Are they the same group we encountered earlier in the suburbs of Sinop?"
Considering this, he couldn't help but feel a little frightened.
Guided by his many years of battlefield intuition, Rom Pasha made a decisive move, ordering his entire army to retreat in an orderly fashion to a relatively safe area, pausing direct engagement with the Bosporus Army.
At the same time, he dispatched messengers to contact his Sultan, hoping he would quickly learn of this situation and respond.
On the other end of the battlefield, upon learning that the Ottoman had actually begun to retreat, Manuel, mounted on his warhorse, couldn't help but sneer, "What, do they take us for wooden stakes? There's no halftime on the battlefield."
He then stood on a slightly higher vantage point, surrounded by his guards, and gazed at the orderly retreating enemy.
Recalling the enemy's various performances on the battlefield, he, being at the front, finally confirmed that the enemy should not receive reinforcements in the short term.
"Since that is the case, there is no need for us to hold back any longer.
Holy Father above, Hallelujah!"
Caesar Manuel waved his hand and immediately ordered all the Philaka Soldiers and elite peasant soldiers ambushed on the other side of the hill to attack.
"It's time to bring out the firearms and show these Ottoman Turk dogs the might of Romans favored by the Lord!"
Roughly half a quarter of an hour later, Rom Pasha, who had just been trying to appear calm and composed, felt increasingly the error of his decision to pursue merit.
These Romans had just brought out another ambush force from somewhere on the hills, charging directly down and, combined with the earlier group, quickly dispersed his main army.
"Pasha, what do we do now?" a Janissary personal guard beside Rom Pasha exclaimed, losing his composure as Rom Pasha's thoughts were in a tangled mess.
All that remained under the command of this Ottoman General were a few dozen Janissary personal guards.
Faced with his subordinate's question, Rom Pasha had intended to brazenly say to use the opportunity to gather forces and retreat in an orderly fashion again.
But a cloud of gunpowder smoke from artillery fire suddenly appeared less than half a Greek foot away from him, startling him into changing his mind on the spot.
"Damn it, the Romans can use cannons now?! Retreat, retreat! We must quickly rendezvous with the Sultan and inform him of this military situation."
Rom Pasha, who had narrowly escaped death, was so frightened that he casually came up with a clumsy excuse, then took his personal guards and fled in the chaos.
He left the rest of the caught-off-guard soldiers to face the Bosporus Army's blades, scattered in the autumn wind.
An hour later, the victorious Bosporus Army, from top to bottom, exuded an atmosphere of joy completely opposite to that of the captured Ottoman soldiers.
This time, at the cost of nearly a thousand casualties, the Bosporus Army successfully captured and killed nearly three to four thousand enemy soldiers, including even a hundred or so Janissaries.
In this atmosphere, Vladimir, a Philaka officer, immediately sought his Sultan's guidance on the next course of action.
"Retreat," Manuel instructed without hesitation.
"Huh?"
"Our victory was largely due to concentrating our main forces here, relying on numerical superiority and similar quality to achieve victory by outnumbering, or rather, by winning with more against fewer."
Manuel turned his head and looked in the direction of Amasya.
"Murad II is no fool; he will surely learn this information quickly.
At that time, he will undoubtedly come to fight us with the mindset of a decisive battle.
We have no chance of winning a decisive battle."
"Therefore, issue my command: leave enough troops to defend for three days, and all others are to withdraw!"
While the Bosporus main force was preparing for relocation, Murad II, as expected, received rough intelligence on the Bosporus's military deployment from Rom Pasha, who had fled to him.
Of course, he also learned of Rom Pasha's unit's defeat.
"Sultan, what should we do now?" Rom Pasha prostrated himself in fear, asking his Sultan how to respond.
After all, as an Ottoman Pasha, to be defeated and forced to retreat by these supposedly weak Romans, this was no longer just a simple disgrace for him; it was akin to being as incompetent as those Beys, and it was not impossible that he might be executed on the spot by the enraged Sultan.
To his surprise, Murad merely responded with a nonchalant smile, telling him to rise and forgiving his sins.
Then the Sultan turned and mounted his horse, his eyes gradually filling with cruelty.
"Romans of Bosporus, playing such tricks, even if Isa were to return, he could not save you.
I have spoken."