Isaac quickly summoned his military officers to arrange affairs for his departure.
"Mikhail, I won't be taking the banner squad with me. Continue training. You may launch a probing offensive to the north and bring back whatever spoils you can."
"Kerman, keep patrolling the coast of Epirus with the Northumbria, and be ready to support Ibrahim."
"Fidel, Norwich, you two come with me, along with the rest of the fleet."
All four accepted their orders.
The next day, the fleet—composed of two warships and over a dozen transport ships—set sail for Rome in grand formation.
In addition to the flagship St. Nicholas and the galley Manuel, Isaac's private fleet had gained two cog ships. These were "borrowed" from the Duchy of Athens—cogs commonly used in the North Sea and the Baltic, slightly modified in Athens to hold six cannons each, giving them at least some defensive capability.
The fleet traveled on and off across the Mediterranean, and after two weeks, they finally reached the ancient city—Rome.
Rome, located in central Italy, was once the capital of the ancient Roman Empire and now the seat of Pope Eugene IV.
The clergy from both Catholic and Orthodox traditions settled into the lodgings prepared by the Pope. Isaac moved into a small manor belonging to Constantinople in the city.
Let them argue over theology—Isaac had other matters.
"Isaac, let me show you around," offered Bishop Fujar with enthusiasm.
The two had gotten along well so far, and Isaac accepted gladly.
Fujar acted as tour guide, introducing several ancient Roman landmarks—the Colosseum, the Circus Maximus, the great baths, the old city walls…
They eventually arrived at the Vatican.
The entire complex, adorned in sacred white, exuded a purity that soothed the soul.
The two parted ways here—Fujar went to report to the Pope, while Isaac had his own business.
Back at his residence, Steward André arrived with a report.
"The man has arrived."
Isaac brightened and quickly walked to the guest room.
"Greetings, Master Gutenberg!" Isaac greeted in Latin.
The man was a balding middle-aged German, plainly dressed and visibly haggard, his eyes full of urgency.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I heard you're interested in supporting my endeavor?"
Johannes Gutenberg asked eagerly as Isaac approached.
This was the first person Isaac had set out to find.
"Please, sit down. Before we discuss anything, I'd like to see your great invention."
"Oh, Your Grace, you'll be amazed… utterly amazed. This will be the greatest invention of the century…"
At the mention of his invention, Gutenberg's eyes lit up, and he began babbling, rubbing his hands as he unveiled a cloth-covered machine.
It was an odd-looking contraption, and before Isaac could study it closely, Gutenberg launched into an explanation.
"Your Highness, I call this invention the printing press. Here—this is the roller, which applies ink to parchment…"
"I also invented a new type system to replace the complex process of block printing…"
Isaac smiled as he listened.
Gutenberg was the Western inventor of movable type printing and the press, and the Gutenberg Bible he would later produce would become a timeless classic.
Compared to the earlier Chinese clay types, Gutenberg's metal movable type was far more practical.
Combined with advancements in papermaking and oil-based inks, Gutenberg's printing press would eventually revolutionize European publishing—paving the way for the Renaissance and Enlightenment.
Of course, all that was still to come.
For now, Gutenberg was mired in a lawsuit with a local nobleman over their previous partnership.
Historically, the Church would eventually step in and back Gutenberg, putting his invention to wide use.
But Isaac intended to get there first.
"Master Gutenberg, I'm very interested in your invention. Would you be willing to start a printing workshop in partnership with me?"
At the mention of a workshop, the German flushed with embarrassment.
"To be honest, Your Highness, I started a small one in Strasbourg. But I fell out with my sponsor, and now we're in court…"
What an honest man.
A little too honest—aren't you afraid of scaring off your second patron?
"I trust your character, Master Gutenberg," Isaac said warmly.
"I can help resolve the previous matter. Not only that, I'll fund you to build a much larger workshop here in Rome. You focus solely on the technology. What do you say?"
"Thank you—thank you so much, noble prince! You're truly…"
Gutenberg was overwhelmed, waving his large hands helplessly.
"How much funding do you need?"
"Five thousand… no, three thousand ducats…"
Gutenberg glanced nervously at Isaac's expression.
"I'll give you ten thousand. Get the production running as soon as possible."
"Yes, dear sir!"
After Isaac left, Gutenberg sat on his bed holding the first installment—1,000 ducats—in a daze.
Then he threw the pouch into the air, caught it, threw it again, caught it again.
Isaac had gained a valuable partner—at the cost of nearly emptying his coffers.
The 9,000 ducats "borrowed" from Athenian farmers and the 2,000 squeezed out of the Church and merchants had almost entirely vanished.
But it was worth it.
After all, the first mass-printed item from Gutenberg's press would be the indulgence.
If Isaac could persuade the Pope to grant him the indulgence printing rights, he would make a fortune.
Beyond that, there were religious texts for churches, Renaissance books for merchants, beloved Greek classics for Byzantines, and even the Quran for Muslims—limitless potential.
Previously, book production relied on monks copying manuscripts—a painfully slow process.
The printing press would be a dimensional leap.
In the following days, Isaac and Gutenberg worked on securing a site for the workshop and hiring workers.
Gutenberg paid his legal penalties and had his remaining equipment transported to Rome.
Bishop Fujar proved instrumental.
Isaac had chosen Rome for its developed papermaking industry and large book market.
With Fujar's help, Isaac acquired a small papermaking mill and set up the printing shop nearby.
A week later, the press was running.
It was still small-scale—Gutenberg oversaw operations, with five workers in the printing shop and two in the papermill.
The first printed book was the Latin Bible.
Isaac presented it to Bishop Fujar.
Its elegant, dignified script, precise forms, and crisp clarity instantly captivated the bishop.
"With this, we'll never need to copy scripture by hand again!"
Fujar was highly optimistic about the press.
Isaac asked him to explain the situation to the Pope, saying that a Byzantine prince wished to contribute to the spread of God's Word.
Additionally, Gutenberg began printing Renaissance works and Greek classics.
Titles like Dante's Divine Comedy, Petrarch's Africa, and Boccaccio's Decameron were popular with Italian merchants and bourgeoisie.
Greek works by Hippocrates, Homer, Plato, and Aristotle were beloved among Byzantines.
Isaac also had his staff purchase the best paper and ink, and selected the finest printed Bible from dozens of trials to present to the Pope.
The next day, introduced by Bishop Fujar, Isaac was granted an audience with the Pope.
Chimes rang, incense wafted.
Isaac walked a long corridor and ascended the stairs into the central hall of the Catholic world.
Rows of white-robed clerics stood with eyes closed. Two Swiss halberdiers took Isaac's weapons at the entrance.
Isaac advanced solemnly and stopped.
Right hand clenched over his left chest, left hand behind his back, he bowed—a standard Catholic knight's salute.
As always—appearances didn't matter.
The Pope smiled.
"Rise, my child."
"I hear you've brought a device to lighten the burden of our scribes?"
Isaac nodded, handing over the refined Bible.
He had poured thought into the gift—top-quality paper and ink, faintly fragrant.
Simple in appearance but pleasing to hold.
Eugene IV flipped through it, the crisp rustle echoing in the hall.
"Excellent."
"Your Holiness, we can print three such Bibles per day. With expanded production, even more."
"Very good. I will inform the churches—any future needs, they'll come to you first."
The Pope waved his hand.
Isaac bowed in thanks, but didn't leave.
"Is there more?"
Before Isaac could speak, Bishop Fujar stepped forward.
"Your Holiness, I believe Prince Isaac's invention has other uses."
"Oh?"
"I hear the King of Cyprus is asking for aid. We could use this machine to rapidly print indulgences—saving lost souls and supporting the holy war."
Isaac added, "And we can print your crest and mine on each indulgence, ensuring central control and avoiding abuse by local churches."
The Pope sat up.
"My child, our priests are God's servants. They would never abuse such authority."
"I apologize for my ignorance, Your Holiness."
Isaac bowed.
Minutes later, he walked out of the Vatican gleefully clutching a papal edict.
The Pope had authorized Isaac's press to print religious texts, including the Bible, and granted him the indulgence business.
For the first year, profits would be split 30/70 to support expansion.
After that, Isaac would receive ten percent of net profits.
Meanwhile, the Vatican erupted.
"Your Holiness, why entrust such matters to a heretic?"
"Watch your tongue, Brother Winter. There is no more East and West Church—Isaac is our brother, not a heretic."
Fujar barked.
The Pope also looked sternly at Winter.
"My apologies, Your Holiness."
Eugene IV turned to Fujar.
"This meeting is over. You all may go. Fujar, stay."
The others dispersed.
The Pope paced slowly.
"Do you know why I gave Isaac so many concessions?"
Fujar thought.
"On one hand, we can't lose. If we centralize indulgence issuance, we'll profit greatly."
"On the other, we're not the only game in town."
Indeed, there were two popes in the Catholic world—Eugene IV and Felix V of Avignon.
Their mutual denial had led many churches in France and the Low Countries to reject papal appointments, electing their own bishops while still nominally recognizing Rome.
Rome had to accept this with gritted teeth.
After repeated crusade failures, Vatican authority was at an all-time low.
Eugene IV had it rough.
"Good that you understand."
The Pope stared into Fujar's eyes. Cold sweat beaded on Fujar's brow.
"You'll handle Isaac. Get me the printing process if you can."
"Yes…"
Fujar bowed and turned to go.
The Pope stopped him.
"And tell him everything we've discussed."
Fujar froze.
"If he dares collaborate with the false Avignon pope or any rogue churches, I will excommunicate him!"