North Coast of the Gulf of Corinth, Nafpaktos Port.
This is a typical Greek city, with the ruins of the Temple of Apollo and the Temple of Athena outside the city, yet some buildings inside still faintly reflect the traces of ancient Greek architecture. However, now, the crescent moon flag of the Ottomans flies over this ancient Greek town.
Since Murad II decided to punish Constantine's rebellious actions, the Ottoman army had taken control of this place, using it as a supply hub and naval base.
At this moment, inside the governor's residence in Nafpaktos, Zagan Pasha was sending off two elegantly dressed men with warmth.
"Then it's settled. Zagan Pasha, if you take Corinth, make sure to sell the slaves to us first!"
The tall man feigned drunkenness, leaning on Zagan Pasha, one hand draped over his shoulder.
"Of course! You too dislike the Orthodox, so you'll remain neutral, right?"
Zagan Pasha subtly pushed the tall man away, took his hand, and pretended to be affectionate as he spoke.
"Certainly, their affairs are none of our concern..."
The tall man squinted one eye and looked at Zagan.
"By the way... weren't you once an Orthodox Christian? Don't you want to save your fellow countrymen?"
"I once strayed from the path, but thanks to Allah, He saved me from the sea of suffering, and with the Sultan's favor, I rose to the forefront. Beyond that, I ask for nothing," Zagan said, lowering his head deeply as though feeling Allah's will.
After sending the two men off, Zagan Pasha took the handkerchief handed to him by a servant and wiped his hands vigorously, then took off his outer garment and ordered the servant to throw it away.
After a while, a strange, almost sickly smile slowly appeared on Zagan Pasha's cold face.
"Hahaha..."
The laughter grew louder, until Zagan Pasha's entire face contorted. The laughter abruptly stopped.
"Tell the transport fleet, the Venetians are also ready. Have them send supplies directly to Corinth. Let the Janissaries move as well, and give them some practice."
"Set the warships in motion, head west to intercept, and prevent Venice or Genoa from flipping sides."
Zagan Pasha's expression returned to its usual coldness. He stood by the bed, waiting for a moment, then watched the Ottoman transport fleet slowly set sail from the port.
Perhaps tomorrow, the Greeks would come out of their shells and surrender to the great Sultan.
Thinking this, Zagan Pasha's face broke into another smile.
...
Not far from the Ottoman fleet, another massive fleet was moving rapidly toward them.
It was Isaac's Mediterranean fleet.
After leaving Ceuta, Isaac had traveled day and night. While resting in the Adriatic Sea, he met the Northumbrian ship that had just completed its mission.
Upon hearing Captain Kelman's report, Isaac immediately understood the severity of the situation.
Isaac rushed for two days and finally arrived at the battlefield just in time.
"Your Highness, the Saint Nicholas has signaled, the Ottoman fleet is ahead—six escort galleys are patrolling."
"Order Captain Henry to march at full speed. Upon encountering the Ottoman fleet, open fire immediately."
"Yes!"
The flagship, the Moray Duke, signaled the rest of the fleet, passing the message in layers until the Saint Nicholas received it.
"Captain! The Ottoman warships are closing in on us!"
A sailor climbed up the mast and shouted below.
Seeing the approaching Ottoman warships, Henry smiled.
"The Sultan's supreme order, engage the Ottoman fleet immediately."
"Rigging officer, lower the St. Mark flag, raise the eagle flag!"
"Cannon master, fire!"
For safety and to avoid detection, the fleet had been using the Venetian St. Mark flag. After this battle, the eagle flag would fly once again.
Boom—Boom—
The Saint Nicholas's ten cannons on the left side fired in unison, opening the curtain of the Corinth Gulf Battle.
Meanwhile, the nearby Sparta and Gian Marquis galleys also opened fire.
The sea was filled with smoke.
The approaching Ottoman ships were stunned.
They had just received information from Zagan Pasha that Venice remained neutral, but why were they suddenly opening fire?
As the smoke cleared, they saw a streak of purple in the sky and their eyes were filled with horror.
"It's the Greek fleet! Quickly notify the flagship!"
The sailors were about to signal, but it was already too late.
The Moray Duke, followed by the rest of the fleet, arrived on the scene.
The Northumbria fired first, with Captain Kelman shouting as a shell was loaded into the cannon.
The Moray Duke and the armed Kirk ship, the Athena, also opened fire.
Hot cannonballs cut beautiful arcs through the air, letting out piercing shrieks.
Boom—
One of the Ottoman galleys was hit. A solid lead ball struck the bow, sending a nearby Ottoman sailor flying.
It didn't hit a weak point, which was a slight regret for Isaac.
"All ships continue loading. Maintain distance to avoid being surrounded by the Ottomans!"
Fidel, the fleet commander, shouted and ordered the signalman to relay the message.
"Captain, the Ottomans are quick to react. They're charging at us!"
On the Saint Nicholas Clark ship, the lookout urgently called out to Captain Henry.
"Don't panic! Order the Gian Marquis and Sparta ships to close in on us. Our ship's sides are twice as high as the Ottomans'. They won't be able to board that easily."
Captain Henry gave the order.
Before the order was passed, the four Ottoman galleys charged in a semi-surrounding position toward the Saint Nicholas.
Boom—
Another round of fire hit an Ottoman warship, but only slightly slowed its advance.
The Ottoman commander clearly had experience. Knowing their galleys' cannons could not compare to the Byzantine Clark ships, they intended to use their speed advantage to close in for boarding.
The swiftly arriving Gian Marquis and Sparta ships blocked two of the Ottoman galleys, while the other two broke through the encirclement, planning to surround the Saint Nicholas from both sides.
Closer! Closer!
Henry could even see the smug face of the commander on the Ottoman flagship.
The two Ottoman galleys finally completed their mission and had surrounded the Saint Nicholas.
Bang—Bang—
A few grappling hooks flew from the Ottoman flagship, landing on the Saint Nicholas's side.
Ottoman sailors, armed with curved daggers, began climbing up the ropes.
"Fire the hand cannons, fire!"
Seeing the opportunity, Captain Henry ordered.
Thirty French musketeers, stationed on the ship's deck, poked out their guns and fired at the left side of the Ottoman galleys.
Puff—Thud—
The hand cannons were inaccurate and had poor aim, but at such close range, the unarmored Ottoman sailors were easy targets.
The sailors hit by the bullets fell from the ropes into the sea.
"Crossbowmen, fire!"
Twenty Genoese crossbowmen hurried out from the cabin, crouched at the side of the ship, and launched a barrage at the Ottoman galleys below.
Ottoman sailors on deck who had no time to dodge fell one after another, clutching their wounds, screaming in pain.
After a round of firing, the Ottoman galley on the left side had lost its ability to resist.
"Follow me, board the ship!"
First mate Owen shouted, leading the charge down the Ottoman ropes.
Behind him, a dozen brave sailors followed him into battle.
Owen cut down several wounded soldiers trying to block him, and was the first to charge into the captain's quarters.
The enemy commander stood behind the door, clutching his curved dagger, ready to make a last stand.
"I am an Ottoman Bey! I demand a fair duel!"
The Ottoman captain shouted in broken Greek.
"I'm not."
First mate Owen pulled a hand crossbow from his sleeve, shot him in the thigh, and then, as the Ottoman Bey bent down in pain, sliced off his head.
The following sailors opened the lower cabin door, and the rowing slaves immediately surrendered.
With that, the Ottoman flagship was taken, and the fleet lost its unified command.
Afterward, the Saint Nicholas continued its method—first firing, then crossbow shots, and finally boarding—to capture another galley.
The two galleys, entangled with the Sparta and Gian Marquis, saw the situation deteriorating and tried to escape.
Sparta and Gian Marquis fired relentlessly, eventually sinking one and heavily wounding another, which managed to flee.
Shifting to the Moray Duke's side, the two Ottoman warships tasked with intercepting hesitated, unable to approach the Moray Duke due to its overwhelming firepower.
They witnessed the fate of the Ottoman flagship and saw the other ships retreating in panic.
Seeing Saint Nicholas break free, preparing for encirclement.
One of the Ottoman ships seemed to have a mutiny and raised a white flag.
The other fled in panic, but Isaac didn't have time to chase.
He quickly gathered the fleet, ordered the transport ships to merge, and headed straight for Nafpaktos port.
...
Nafpaktos, Port.
Zagan Pasha, with a smile on his face, was speaking to the commander of the Janissary Second Legion.
The soldiers of the second legion boarded the transport ships, placed their luggage, and took their rooms.
They were well-equipped, wearing square helmets adorned with long feather decorations, dressed in leather armor, equipped with muskets, curved daggers, and maces, some carrying round shields and holding short crossbows. Their helmets were decorated with a golden seat motif.
The Janissary Second Legion, the Golden Throne.
Zagan Pasha seemed very pleased and praised the commander lavishly.
One by one, the transport ships departed from the port, some carrying supplies, others bringing cannons, and others carrying Ottoman soldiers.
The Gulf of Corinth resembled a teapot, and Zagan Pasha had already stationed six swift galleys to guard the mouth. The commanders were familiar with naval warfare and felt secure.
Suddenly, Zagan Pasha seemed to see something terrifying. His smile froze on his face.
The commander of the legion turned to look, confused.
A fleet of warships flying the purple double-headed eagle flag was rapidly approaching.
At the forefront, the Saint Nicholas ship was still covered with the blood of Ottoman sailors, with lead bullet holes on the deck, and the captured Ottoman flag trailing behind the ship.
To Zagan Pasha, the warship seemed to have come from hell.
Boom—
The cannon fired, hitting the busy sailors on the shore.
Then, one warship after another from Eastern Rome roared in anger toward their age-old enemy.
"Avoid! Avoid! All legion members halt boarding and retreat by land!"
The commander of the Golden Throne Legion, well-trained, was the first to react, directing his troops, while