—Mmph, mmph!
The Ottoman messengers were tied up with ropes, stripped naked.
Druszkiewicz looked at the orders they were carrying.
"Instructing to burn everything...?"
He stroked his chin. Everything was turning out as that young officer said. Druszkiewicz put the order back into the envelope, handed it to the scribes under his command, and asked.
"Is it possible to forge the order?"
There were a couple of scribes who knew the Ottoman language well.
"It is possible."
Druszkiewicz nodded. While the scribes started their work, he selected soldiers of Tatar or Cossack origin serving in the Polish army.
There weren't many. About twenty. He handed the unit organized like that to Jeong-hun.
"I understand why His Majesty has his eye on you. Not only your brain and eyes, but your courage is also tremendous. You know you are walking into death yourself, right?"
"Yes, Commander."
Druszkiewicz smiled slightly looking at Jeong-hun. Originally, at that age, most soldiers were crazy for merit and honor, with their guts spilling out of their bellies. Since he was like that once too. But he offered advice.
"Value your life. Old men like us are destined to die now, but people like you have to lead the Commonwealth of tomorrow."
There were many smart officers. But among them, not many survived the war and continued to get promoted.
"Yes, Commander."
Finally, as Druszkiewicz encouraged the soldiers and went back, Bojan, who had been holding back until then, opened his mouth.
"By the way, why am I here?"
Jeong-hun scanned him instead of answering. And admired his own eye.
Ottoman messengers didn't just send messengers. They sent other things. If supplies like food and gunpowder were sent from the supply base to the fortress, 'captured goods' were sent from the fortress to the supply base.
The era of slave trade. While Europeans bought and sold African slaves on a huge scale, Islam was trading a tremendous number of slaves not to be outdone.
In Islam, there is a doctrine not to use fellow Muslims as slaves. Of course, not everyone followed this, but that doctrine was enough to make the Islamic slave trade focus on other religions and other ethnicities.
Especially, Islam sought many female slaves. Men were not needed. Grown men were killed after being made to labor roughly, and young boys were trampled to death by horses because even that was bothersome. They preferred beautiful women immensely.
Of all places, the vicinity of the Black Sea was widely known as a place where many beautiful women resided. The Ottomans bought and sold slaves directly or through the Crimean Khanate, a notorious slave-trading nation.
The two ethnicities most preferred as slaves were Circassians, famous for having many beauties, and Slavs. Of all things, the major powers around the Black Sea, both Poland and the Tsardom of Rus, were Slavic nations.
Furthermore, the Ottomans basically hadn't extended permanent dominance around here. It is land that can be taken away anytime. There was no reason to care about public sentiment at all.
"So the reason you dressed me as a woman is..."
Bojan looked at Jeong-hun with a stupid face. In the meantime, the Ottoman army was trying to transport the women kidnapped last to the supply base. And Jeong-hun released those naked women and sat Bojan in that place instead.
Jeong-hun shrugged his shoulders.
"You said it yourself. Ottoman bastards go crazy for blond hair and blue eyes." "You crazy bastard!"
Bojan tried to rush at him in anger, but suddenly realized that even his feet were tied tightly and fell. While he trembled in misery and resentment, Jeong-hun smirked.
"They will know you are a woman at a glance, so you don't have to worry about the disguise being caught."
Hahaha!
Radosław and other comrades laughed holding their bellies. Just as he said, Bojan sitting modestly with his blond hair let loose while making a pure expression would surely not even raise suspicion.
❋ ❋ ❋
Jeong-hun's unit, disguised as Ottoman troops, rowed boats and moved downstream. The rest of the detached force would be following quietly riding the river too.
While Jeong-hun fiddled with the order in his bosom, Radosław asked from his side. Although he was of Polish descent, he had thick lines and looked ordinary, so his appearance wasn't particularly heterogeneous.
"When did you learn the Ottoman language?"
"I don't know, me neither."
Jeong-hun scratched his head. There were a few things that couldn't be understood. Language was one of them.
The body changing was rather understandable. He also had the funny thought that maybe he changed like the Hulk due to nuclear radiation. But he couldn't figure out the reason why he became good at languages at all.
Well, good is good.
Soroca was not that far away. Since it was an Ottoman supply base, he could see a defensive line constructed to some extent, even if not as much as a fortress. If they make a slight mistake here, all the military provisions could fly away.
So they had to act rather calmly.
Jeong-hun exchanged glances with the interpreter standing next to him. This soldier, who escaped after living as a prisoner in the Ottoman army, knew the providence of the Ottoman army well.
"We brought the order!"
The Ottoman guard didn't suspect much. As expected, it was clear that other news hadn't arrived yet.
"Slaves are few this time. Only one?"
Jeong-hun shrugged his shoulders and said.
"Slave business is also at its end. Polish troops will storm in soon."
The Ottoman guard stared at his face. It was a guy he saw for the first time. But his appearance was peculiar.
"Hmm, are you of Tatar origin?"
"Yeah."
The Ottoman guard sighed.
"When the hell are you guys going to take the military provisions? We are dying unloading them. You bastards."
Jeong-hun barely suppressed a smile.
"Go in."
Jeong-hun looked around the Soroca fortress. He felt the mouths of the disguised Polish soldiers drop open too.
This is a complete gold mine.
The Ottomans were implementing a scorched-earth policy. They were in the middle of scraping together all the grain from the surroundings. Since this period was the time to harvest the rye sown in autumn.
Soroca was a storage where such grain gathered. Furthermore, since they had to supply food to the fortress and even supply food for the deployed Tatar army, the expression that food was piled up like a mountain in Soroca was not an exaggeration.
But for the scorched-earth policy to be completed, these grains must be transported to the Kamieniec fortress or Akkerman downstream. The Ottomans hadn't reached that stage yet. Poland took the preemptive victory too quickly.
The commander of the fortress knew that too. Rather, because he knew that well, he must have given the radical but effective instruction to burn everything instead of handing it over to the enemy. In fact, they wouldn't have had any other way either.
But the content of the order had already changed.
Jeong-hun met the Ottoman commander and handed over the switched order. The commander roughly checked the sealing of the letter and tore open the contents.
"...Hmm."
While Jeong-hun was inwardly relieved confirming there was no subtle change in expression, the commander suddenly spoke.
"You say there is only one slave?"
His face was full of disappointment. Although it would depend on the grade, a slave was an opportunity to make big money. Current Ottoman commanders were pocketing bribes heavily by selling these local slaves to slave traders. As long as he confirmed there was no immediate crisis, the Ottoman commander looked out for his own stomach only.
"Yes. I am sorry."
"How is the quality?"
Jeong-hun didn't know what to answer. Instead, the interpreter next to him stepped forward.
"Top quality."
"Top quality?"
The Ottoman commander drooled. He deliberated a few times, and soon stood up from his seat. It was an intention to check the quality of the slave personally.
"Rest on your own, and move when the day breaks tomorrow."
Jeong-hun left the commander's tent. Radosław asked urgently.
"Hey, that bastard, isn't he going straight to Bojan?"
"It's fine, I gave him a dagger. The problem is for us to secure the fortress quickly first."
Bojan will do well on his own. Jeong-hun trusted him, who was exceptionally good at swordsmanship even within the Winged Hussars. Since he was his 'teacher' in his own way.
On the other hand, they had to prepare for battle quickly too. The moment for that bastard to figure out Bojan's essence and freak out didn't have much time left. Jeong-hun and the soldiers nodded and drew stilettos and daggers from their bosoms.
—Kue-euk
They moved quickly. Rebellion from inside was always difficult to deal with. Let alone in this situation where they were letting their guard down. The Ottoman troops began to sink slowly in silence.
Jeong-hun displayed excellent ability even in this narrow urban warfare. The Ottoman troops didn't notice the internal trouble at all until they reached the gate of the Soroca fortress.
"You were alive, Bojan!"
Radosław, seeing a familiar person in the distance, welcomed him gladly. Bojan's face was red. It probably wasn't because of the blood on his body. The man, who almost suffered terrible shame in his heart, ignored Radosław and rushed towards Jeong-hun with eyes wide open. But he was soon grabbed by the collar by the Tatar monster and dangled in the air.
"You son of a bitch!"
"I will definitely suggest your merit to the General. That you killed the commander with your fatal charm."
Jeong-hun, who physically calmed Bojan down, signaled with a torch and opened the fortress gate. Beyond that, the Polish army was approaching quickly.
❋ ❋ ❋
After the Battle of Soroca, the war got completely twisted. It meant both sides, Poland and the Ottomans, got completely twisted.
Poland hated prolonged war. The Sejm (Parliament) was still not coming up with support measures for the army, and thus the supply coming from the Polish mainland had limits.
To end this war quickly, they had to grasp the justification first. But the Duke of the Principality of Moldavia fled after killing all the Polish Nobles. He probably fled to Akkerman where the Ottoman headquarters is located. Akkerman was a port where the Ottoman Black Sea Fleet was stationed. Conquest was more impossible than Kamieniec.
If it goes like this, the expedition is a complete failure. It was to the extent that Jan III intuited so. In this stressful situation, Jan III's chronic high blood pressure problem was enough to greatly threaten his health. Actually, his health was getting worse as time went by.
But before Jan III grabbed the back of his neck and collapsed, welcome news was heard at an amazing timing.
It was news of victory.
Now the Goddess of War began to smile at Poland. What is the meaning of implementing the scorched-earth policy? Naturally, it is an intention to induce the Polish offensive to a terminal point quickly.
But now the Ottomans handed over the military provisions of Soroca they scraped together intact to the Polish army. Furthermore, the Tatar army gathered for the purpose of disruption was annihilated from the beginning. It means the biggest headache in the Polish army's supply was removed.
With this, Poland gained a leeway of at least a few months. The Ottomans must have realized too that this damn war is bound to flow into a prolonged war.
"...Amazing guy."
Jan III sighed after confirming the guy's name again in the report sent by Druszkiewicz. But Jakub, who was by his side, felt something similar to an unbearable smile hanging on his father's lips besides the sigh.
"Are you talking about that guy who was in the palace garden?"
"Yes, the guy who was with your sister."
"That guy is indeed an amazing guy."
Jakub admired purely. It was the same words he said earlier, but this time Jan rather felt his stomach turn.
"Does your stomach not hurt? He is the guy who insulted your sister like that."
"They hugged because they liked it, what problem does that make? Although I don't know what that tomboy liked to do that."
Jan III looked at his eldest son. It was a moment to deal with a serious topic.
"Jakub, you must listen carefully to Ela's advice from now on."
"Pardon?"
It was strange words. But Jan was serious.
"Do you know that the new Pope His Holiness ascended to the throne recently?"
"Yes."
"Thanks to your sister, we could bestow favor to the new Pope His Holiness first. You probably don't feel yet how valuable that favor is."
"..."
Jakub was looking at him blankly. Jan III had a headache. But it wasn't desperate. If his brilliant daughter can fill the lacking parts of his son, even more so.
"Make your sister support you."
Jan III patted his son. Still, this guy Jakub, since he is a good person, it is fortunate that there is no useless conflict between siblings.
While handing the report to his son, he sighed and was enjoying this situation, a messenger ran in with his breath up to his chin.
"The Imperial Army won! The Ottomans were defeated greatly and even Köprülü Fazıl Pasha is said to have been killed in action!"
Jan III beamed and jumped up.
The battle that would later be called the Battle of Slankamen. Starting from this, the fall of the Ottoman Empire, which seemed eternal, began.
❋ ❋ ❋
Ottoman Headquarters in Kamieniec.
The Ottoman Commander and Governor of Podolia Eyalet, Kahraman Pasha, couldn't come to his senses as terrible sad news flew in consecutively.
"This fuck! Nothing is going properly!"
He slammed the table while losing his temper.
From the beginning, the Tatar army was annihilated. However, the Ottoman commander regained his reason quickly back then. Anyway, it wasn't a big problem. Kamieniec fortress is impregnable, and sufficient food and gunpowder were already stockpiled.
But, the scorched-earth policy they designed went back to a blank slate.
The Polish troops swallowed Soroca whole as if to show off, without even caring about the Kamieniec fortress. And then began to transport the military provisions there to their supply base through the river.
While exposing the defenseless supply line completely.
Even with all that sight, the Ottomans didn't rush out of the fortress. It was too obvious.
Is there a reason to go out when the Winged Hussars might be ambushing? Anyway, Köprülü Fazıl Pasha will win against the Holy Roman Empire. Then he will send reinforcements here.
But unfortunately, news came that the Ottomans were greatly defeated at Slankamen and even Köprülü Fazıl Pasha died.
The messenger who delivered the news came with arrows stuck all over his body from being chased by Polish army scouts. Thanks to his dedication burning with loyalty, he could deliver the bloody letter to Kahraman. Although the messenger died, Kahraman could learn a few pieces of information and contents through the letter.
If it goes like this, we will dry to death.
Resources were finite. If it becomes a long-term war for both, it was self-evident that the besieging side capable of supply from the home country is more advantageous than the besieged defending side.
Therefore, the Governor of Silistra Eyalet, Mustafa Pasha, proposed first.
[The enemy main force is not moving from Iași. Therefore, the unit in front of them is nothing more than a detached force.
Also, we obtained the Duke of Moldavia. If we rally the pro-Ottoman Moldavian army and the remaining Tatars, our troops will be at least twice theirs.
While we advance to Iași and tie up the enemy main force, if you come down from the north at an appropriate moment, we can finally kill the Lion of Lechistan.]
"Right. There is no way the Great Ottoman loses to mere Polish bastards."
Kahraman Pasha vomited a low cry like a beast, overcame fear, and clenched his fist. He decided to respond to Mustafa Pasha's proposal.
Since Köprülü Fazıl Pasha was defeated miserably, if he wins here, maybe he can advance to the highest rank in the Ottoman central political circle at once.
The two countries twisted like that finally chose to decide each other's fate through a pitched battle.
(End of Chapter)
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