The five thousand strong army that came to reinforce the Palantoken Mountain defenders was sent by Manuel's personal order.
Among them, in addition to the common conscripted militias, there were more than a thousand elite peasant soldiers.
Aside from lacking the most elite Philaka Legion, it could be said that this force gathered a large number of the Bosporus Army's top combat capabilities.
Furthermore, to achieve his predetermined goal, he specifically entrusted them to Dungar and Posadas to command.
Manuel likely decided to send this batch of reinforcements this morning after learning about the military meeting.
When they arrived on the battlefield, they indeed boosted the morale of the remaining defenders, with some even kneeling down on the spot, grateful to their respected and reliable Caesar.
Shortly after the reinforcements arrived behind the earthen fort, under the command of the two generals, they charged out from the fortifications amidst the admiration of the defenders and the surprise of the enemy.
The lightly armored peasant soldiers, covered by the militias, surged out with incredible speed and surprising order, catching the White Sheep Army completely off guard.
Even the always brave and fearless Turkmen Ghazi was greatly startled and either killed or wounded by their long spears.
The Turks at the front were directly wiped out by this offensive, dying on the spot.
"Are these Greeks not afraid of death?! Sons of bitches!" Seeing that even under such circumstances, the enemies were still so skilled in combat, and their frontline troops almost collapsed, Hamza felt so angry he couldn't breathe.
Mahmoud, who knew little about the enemy, was not too concerned about this.
Although he had felt a genuine sense of vigilance and worry about the Bosporus Army in the previous few encounters, he still believed, based on past experience, that in a situation akin to an open-field battle, these Christians would not gain much advantage.
But there's always a 'what if,' and considering this, he cautiously entertained the idea of temporarily avoiding their sharp edge.
Yet he also thought, 'How can I know their true strength without trying?'
"Very well, let's seize this opportunity to break the spirit of these Romans." Mahmoud prudently drew his sharp saber from his waist, pointed it in the direction of the enemy, and loudly ordered: "Behold, warriors of Allah, the enemies of God are now before us! allah akbar!"
Seeing their Bey in such a posture, the most easily incited Turkmen nomadic militias in the White Sheep Army were greatly invigorated.
Convinced that they would receive divine favor from Allah and go to paradise to enjoy "seventy-two raisins," they immediately shouted fervent words like "Allah is Greatest" and "Jihad," charging towards the well-equipped enemies opposite them.
Seeing the cannon fodder in such a state, Mahmoud breathed a sigh of relief, then sent a personal guard to Hamza, asking his second brother to come quickly and discuss a true strategy against the enemy.
While some unknown minor maneuvers were happening in the White Sheep central army, the Bosporus reinforcements, under the command of their two generals, had already deployed and were fighting to the death.
On the front line, a defender named Peter barely escaped from a recently damaged watchtower.
Due to the changing situation, even before the reinforcements arrived, they, who should have been holed up in the earthen fort, had to send out a considerable number of troops to engage the enemy.
In this process, he was very unluckily affected by the recently destroyed watchtower, and almost fainted during this time.
Fortunately, under the influence of a strong will to live, Peter quickly moved away from the damaged watchtower, saving his life.
However, his right arm was also crushed, temporarily losing its combat capability.
"Damn Turk dogs!" Peter drew his rusty waist saber to lean on, while trying his best to grip the iron spear in his left hand, looking around vigilantly.
Although there were shouts of battle and clashes of weapons everywhere, luckily, his position was unexpectedly free of many enemies.
"Hey, Peter?" Hearing a voice that was incredibly faint yet familiar on the battlefield, Peter twisted his head in surprise, and after his gaze passed through several unfamiliar wounded soldiers, he finally realized the source of the voice.
"Thomas? You're still…" But before his joyful voice could finish, he saw four disheveled Turks in rusty armor appear behind his comrade, Thomas.
"No, Tho…" His right hand was only halfway extended when a lean Turk directly raised his saber and cleanly decapitated Thomas.
His comrade's head even flew several circles in the air due to the force before falling to the ground and smashing to pieces.
Before he could react, these Turks saw him and rushed in his direction.
Although the chaos of the battlefield made it impossible to see their expressions, Peter was already scared out of his wits, only wanting to escape.
"Ah ah ah ah!!! No, don't come over!" After witnessing several wounded soldiers' heads being similarly dealt with, just like Thomas, Peter burst into tears on the spot.
He had a newlywed peasant wife, who, like him, was malnourished and had a fiery temper, but at this moment, he missed her immensely.
But how could he, a wounded soldier, outrun the enemy?
Less than two minutes later, no longer able to run, he quickly felt the sounds of those Turks getting closer and closer.
If nothing unexpected happened, he would likely be caught up quickly, then beheaded, becoming one of the deadbodies.