Chapter 479: För Kung Antonius!

When people looked at the Varangians from the outside they might get the feeling that the Varangians only know one single style of combat at a time, that is constantly using their advantage in height and strength to wield the dull weapon in their hands again and again, breaking the defense of the opponents with nothing but brute force. 
But actually, for the Varangians things are not really that simple as how the outsiders look, they have a higher need for a sufficient stamina due to their prolonged field deployment duration as compared to the others. Hence, they often rely on their combat techniques that is often only made possible with their advantage in height and strength. They know what angle to strike that would encounter the smallest resistance from the opponent, they know that they need to finish their opponent with one decisive strike making sure that they would not have a chance of retaliating. All of these battle techniques passed down from generation to generation of Varangians, combined with martial arts from the Slavs, Scandinavians, Danish, English and Germans made the Varangians a force they are today. 
Fjodor wept away the blood dripping under the metal mask obstructing his eyes and went forward with that club covered in blood. There is still a mixture of colours from what came out of that skull of the soldier just now on the club constantly dropping onto the ground with each step it takes. To the Ottoman soldiers facing Fjodor it just seemed like the clubhead that appeared to be no larger than a ball of Saracen knitting ball carries the power of death looming over their head. Finally, an Ottoman soldier could no longer take it as he charged up towards the giant shouting a desperate war cry, and slammed his Kilij blade with the full of his might onto the wrist of the appalling giant menace before him.
"Ting~~~" However instead of the usual sound of the blade plunging into meat, it only produced a series of ear damaging ringing sound, like that of a church bell. 
The blade did not penetrate the plate armour of the Varangian by an inch, instead it merely left a tiny dent on the spot of the impact. The man looked up and caught sight of the eerie glow of light coming from the darkness behind that metal mask, staring at him like a death reaper. The modern Varangians built by Yuri have almost abandoned their agility or dodging exchanging it with blocking, priority of strike and strength unlike the Varangians bearing the same name in centuries ago, mainly because the quality of armour craftmanship and science have evolved to another level since last time. The Varangians rebuilt by Yuri might not be completely identical to the ones built by his seniors, but nevertheless it is capable in coping with battlefield conditions that are being faced by Antonius, just like now in this case. 
Fjodor do not have the mood to continue watching the frantic performance of the clown and swept down that menacing club of his and crashed the skull of his enemy. Half of the soldier's head is being removed at once due to the impact, with the black blood forming clots and white substances being splattered all over the place. Excited by the smell of blood the Varangians can finally no longer control themselves and unleashed their natural instincts of beasts, they charged forward right at these enemies standing there waiting for their blades to strike onto their heads.
"För kung och fosterland! För kung Antonius! För Det Romerska Riket!" Fjodor roared first as he led the charge, smacking a way in the middle of the Ottomans smacking his club left and right. He seemed to be unstoppable, like as if Odin himself has descended upon the world of the living. Within minutes he has already managed to push all the way into the trenches casting an immeasurable amount of dread on the ones facing him, as he seemed to be unstoppable, even the finest bronze and iron they are holding is unable to penetrate the armour of this iron golem, leaving only scratches and dents.
One cannot understand how does it feel like for an army with an average height of one and six meters (five point two feet) to be facing a giant that he needs to look upwards every time in combat. Funny enough they need to tip toe in order to reach the shoulder and neck of the giant, like a child trying to reach for the candy being held by an adult trying to play with them. The pressure they are facing from this gigantic creature is indeed real, and it kept on increasing with each step he is going forward.
"They have sent in their elite forces." Semseddin could not bare the worriedness in his heart anymore as he jumped up leaning forward against the walls and cursed. "Actually, why must we play a game of helkustinda with the infidels in those muddy trenches? Why cant I just lead an assault with my warriors out of the walls and slay those beasts from above? Your highness! I do not understand!"

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"If you can think of this, then the enemies can think of this as well."  The Sanjek too is not in a good mood as he gave a cold sneer to the ignorant wonder of his junior. "You can never assume that your opponent is stupid and brainless on the battlefield, Semseddin. Look at those trees on the hills and cliffs, Semseddin. Do you notice anything over there that I have taught you in the past?"
Semseddin took a while to calm his emotions and scrutinised in the direction that his Sanjek pointed towards for a while and shook his head. "No, your highness, I do not see anything over there other for trees and towers of the Rumelians."
The Sanjek seems to be rather disappointed. "Never limit your frame of sight to the picture right in front of you only, Semseddin. Learn to turn your neck and look upwards, see over there? Those birds and crows that are supposed to be in their nests to spend the winter are instead hovering high above the woods flying in circles, do you realise the reasons behind this?"
"You mean… that there are Rumelian troops waiting us under the cover of the woods and hills?"
"Exactly." The Sanjek bite his teeth as the wound under the bandage covering his forehead is still giving him much pain despite the traditional herbal medication has already been applied to the spot by probably the best doctor of Kastoria. "We have no, zero, absolutely no advantage in facing the Rumelians in formation close quartered combat, we shall be squashed, as you have seen from the previous defeats we have suffered. And so, the only tactic we can adapt to now is to hang on here behind fortifications using our advantage in the availability of manpower. I just had another six thousand conscripts being sent in today… Since the Rumelians are kind enough to have dug a few trenches for us and limit their advantage to a one to one combat, we would gladly accept their offer and play this game according to their rules…"
Semseddin shut his mouth, not because of the sudden realisation and awe from the teachings given to him by the Sanjek, but because he is alarmed by one thing; the balance of power within the faction has been broken after his ear caught the few keywords of another six thousand men arriving. Before this, the Sanjek got ten thousand men over here and he Semseddin too have ten thousand men present forming a balance of power though the Sanjek still assumed leadership of this coalition due to his age, his prestige and his rank in the old Ottoman court system.
After the series of clashes and battles with the Rumelians, the Sanjek's forces suffered a heavy death toll especially in the fall of the first fortress it brought the balance tilting towards his side providing that he has got more soldiers, and that is exactly why he dared to not put in that much respect for the Sanjek as compared as others, question his commands and execute his own instructions, because he know that the relationship between him and the Sanjek is not like a relationship of leader and follower, instead it is more like that of a partnership with both of them being equal.
But now, it seems that the balance of power has been broken once again as he kept on forgetting that the Sanjek has a much larger manpower pool as compared to him, being able to draw conscripts from a population of at least a hundred thousand people while he only owns a city and the land around it.. This sudden realisation that rushed into the young lord's head made him start to regret about all of his past actions against the Sanjek, making him starting to worry whether all the connections and channels he has established with the officers paying allegiance to the Sanjek has been exposed or not.

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