At a time when a rare enemy invasion war broke out within Trabzon, in the Erzurum region under the Aq Qoyunlu Dynasty, several Christian slaves were herding sheep for their Turkmen masters under the scorching sun.
Since the arrival of this wave of Turkmens who migrated west again, both the remaining Greeks and the Armenians, who were once local powers, became their "flock."
Although decades had passed, some Christian minor nobles and merchants had earned their rightful status, but the vast majority of common people were still exploited by these Muslims, with some even being sold into slavery, either from outside or within.
Moreover, recently, even some Kurds who had migrated to the area joined their fellow Turkmens in oppressing these infidels.
Although the Pontus interior, or West Armenia region, generally has a mild oceanic climate, July is still a month of scorching sun, and prolonged work under such conditions would likely be unbearable even for the physically strong Black people of the Nile.
Sure enough, around noon, among these Christian slaves, an Armenian youth, while chasing scattered sheep, could no longer hold on and stumbled to the ground.
The Kurdish overseer, who was supervising them from a nearby grass hut and enjoying the cool shade, saw this, grabbed his long whip, pulled a Greek accountant who was serving him, and prepared to severely punish the youth.
"Allah above! You Kafir, who deserves to go to hell, get up quickly!" the Kurdish overseer shouted and stomped at the Armenian slave.
Although the slave was not particularly valuable to the Turkmen lord he served, if he were to be harmed or die under his watch, a scolding would be inevitable.
Given this, seeing the Armenian youth lying motionless on the ground, the Kurdish overseer became somewhat flustered.
But panic was ultimately useless; no matter how much he whipped the Armenian, he remained unconscious.
It was the old Greek accountant who had a solution; he smiled fawningly, stopped the Kurdish overseer's whip, and with his permission, filled an earthenware bowl with well water, fed it to the youth, and continuously shook him.
The accountant's method proved effective; in a short while, the Armenian was roused from his unconscious state by the shaking, knelt on the ground, and repeatedly apologized to the Kurdish overseer.
After confirming that he would not be reprimanded for this, the overseer let out a long sigh of relief and grumbled as he returned to the grass hut.
After the overseer left, the Greek accountant also breathed a sigh of relief.
After briefly comforting the Armenian in Armenian, he prepared to get up and leave.
Just then, he was pulled back by the other man's thin hand.
"What's wrong?" the accountant asked.
"I am as grateful to you as I am to the Holy Mother.
May I know your name?"
"I am Bagrat," the Armenian said, pursing his lips and lowering his head in thanks.
"No need," the accountant waved his thin right hand and looked at Bagrat with his slightly cloudy chestnut eyes, "John Anagnostes, that's my name."
Meanwhile, within Trabzon, after the Bosporus Army arrived at Machka, it immediately split into two groups under the cover of the mountains, as planned.
They force-marched along mountain paths from different directions, attacking Akçaabat.
Alexander, on his side, was not completely unaware of this.
With the help of the mountain watchtowers, Alexander's sharp-eyed scout militiamen quickly detected the Philaka Legion, lightly armored and lurking in the western direction, in the afternoon.
The scouts quickly tried their best to count their numbers, then sent someone to take a shortcut to report to His Highness Alexander, who was stationed in Akçaabat Castle nearby.
Upon receiving the report, Alexander nearly jumped out of his seat.
"Holy Father, how did they get here so quickly?
Did someone in the royal family betray us and tell my damned cousin about the terrain and shortcuts?!"
"Your Highness, speculating now will not solve the problem," the old noble named Andrea reminded him, "At this point, we need to respond quickly."
Hearing this, Alexander calmed down and pondered a countermeasure.
After about 10 seconds, he smirked and confidently offered a solution, "Hmph, Manuel is still too rash.
What does he think allowed us in Trabzon to remain stable here for over two hundred years?
It's the natural defenses of the Pontic Mountains!
And between the Pontic Mountains' natural defenses, there are also iron walls formed by fortresses.
How dare he invade? I will surely make them return in utter defeat!
"Andrea, immediately lead 500 infantry to defend the west.
The remaining 700 men will be led by me personally to defend the north from the ramparts, using the mountains as our stronghold."
"Your Highness, why divide the forces?"
"They are coming with such aggression and confidence; they must at least have divided their forces into two to have such confidence.
If that's the case, neither side can fall."
"No, Your Highness.
What I mean is, why are you leading 200 infantry and 500 cavalry to defend?
In these mountains, cavalry is basically useless, especially Turkmen cavalry from the plateau."
"The Pontic Mountains are not rugged; cavalry can still utilize its mobility.
At worst, they can dismount.
Back then, Basil II of the Macedonian Dynasty had his entire army ride donkeys and covered the distance from Bulgaria to the Levant in just 9 days."
"..."
"Is something wrong?" Alexander revealed a knowing smile.
"No, what I mean is that Your Highness's words are very true."
Thus, Alexander's forces also split into two groups: one to intercept and defend the west; the other to go north to block the other Bosporus Army, whose whereabouts were still unknown.
Alexander also attempted to use the concealment of the mountains to launch an attack on the potentially hidden Bosporus Army.
However, the Bosporus scouts also played their part.
The next morning, scouts from Tukharovsky's unit, stationed at the southern foothills of Machka, noticed unusual activity in the mountain forest and immediately went to investigate.
After a small-scale skirmish, they indeed discovered traces of the enemy.
Upon receiving the intelligence, Tukharovsky immediately summoned Dungar and Posadas, briefly informed them of the situation, and discussed countermeasures.
As the enemy's strength was unknown, Tukharovsky remained quite vigilant, unsure whether to send elite troops to meet the enemy.
Seeing this, Posadas eagerly rolled up his sleeves, intending to volunteer to defeat the enemy.
Just as he was about to volunteer to intercept and probe the enemy, the Western European man interjected.
"Lord Tukharovsky, please allow me to go and meet the enemy," Dungar said firmly, raising his right hand and offering his services.
Tukharovsky frowned.
This was not out of jealousy or contempt, but because he knew that although Dungar was nominally an officer, he had not led any Bosporus Army and lacked prestige.
Sending him to battle carried the greatest risk.
But if he failed, perhaps Emperor Manuel would begin to distance himself from these heretics?
Although Tukharovsky had previously fought for Catholic Lithuania, he considered himself a fairly devout Eastern Orthodox Christian.
While he understood the correctness of Manuel's strategy of befriending Catholic countries, he still felt a little uncomfortable.
This could be a good opportunity.
Given this, he finally agreed to Dungar's request to fight.
However, in the end, he still assigned a task to Posadas, instructing him to provide support for Dungar.
After Dungar led his troops away, Posadas curiously asked him, "Commander, since you want to embarrass this Catholic novice, why do you still want me to support him?"
Tukharovsky answered him seriously, "We stand here commanding troops because His Majesty trusts us to achieve results.
Playing harmless little tricks is predicated on being able to win battles.
So, that Catholic can temporarily lose, but he cannot truly lose."