We can guard this gate until our death

"Are you out of your mind? Seriously I cannot understand what your young folks are thinking nowadays, do you know that when you are up there shouting, waving that dumb bright flag saying that you are the commander, you look like a…" Anjelo can be seen nagging behind Julian as the later paces himself briskly towards his men pushing the crowds to his back with a face full of impatience, while Anjelo followed closely behind with his face and neck in a colour of pinkish red from the fright and anger just now. "Stop! Stop! Let me finish! You look like a…"

"What? A piece of gold ingot? A skull decorated with emerald? Or a Shish Kebab roasted using all the spices from Indo Bactria?" Julian retorted the old man behind, handed the spear with the flag to the soldier, picked up his cutlass and rushed back into the frontline joining the soldiers in their respective formations, and disappeared into the crowds within a few minutes, only his unique sea hardened voice can be heard among the different noises of battlefield causing a topsy-turvy in the old man's ears.

"Stay at the back! Old man! Your brittle bones will be smashed at the sound of a hammer, your wrinkled muscles will fail when an Ottoman horse razor comes for you, and your frail brain filled with the fluid of cowardice will give you a blank mind hearing the swooping sound of Ottoman horses! You prove no actual use to the battle so just stay behind for the sake of your life! Hahahaha…"

"Hahahahaha…" The soldiers laughed alongside with their commander.

Seeing and hearing this, Anjelo stomped on the floor, gave Julian a huge hand sign of disrespect and yelled. "If all of sir De'Ricci's men behave just like you, acting so damn reckless not listening to the words of the old and…. Wise, a huge trouble will descend on you one day!"

He got no response of course. Anjelo clenched his fist, punched the wall to vent his rage but immediately started blowing and massaging his hands trying to minimize the pain on his knuckle. Apparently it must wait for three hundred years later that there will be a person named Sir Issac Newton who will teach them that 'Every Force Applied in nature, there is an equal and opposite reaction.' Then he grabbed a composite bow and climbed the ladders to the roof top trying to cover for Julian.

…

Meanwhile, Julian has pushed to a distance only a hundred meters away from the gate of Kerkaporta, which became the most difficult hundred meters Julian have ever tried to walk in his life. Seeing that his men have failed to take all three strategic goals, the commander bluntly called all of his men back to the gate putting up a real fight like a Wyvern guarding its final possessions of gold. There are no more such thing called tactics this point of time, both sides are just piling bodies on the streets, trying to control the gate without caring about the loss of lives.

Julian had his eyes on this man who has some fancy white cloak, ridiculous big red mushroom looking hat as he calls it. This man is obviously the commander since he was here just now waving his Kilij blade frantically in the air and kicking the buttock of Ottoman soldiers using his boots roaring for them to fill up the gaps on the battle field. Silent as a snake, he quietly left the formation without being noticed by his enemies and slithered up to the roof near the enemy commander, finished the two Ottoman archers from behind who are busy shooting their arrows failing to notice the threat from behind.

However, just as he is about to leap down and slit his blade into the throat of the nameless enemy commander, the gravity of mother Earth started summoning one of the deceased Ottoman archer and he rolled down the roof collapsing on the ground beneath letting out a huge banging sound, which might not be very loud and attention seeking in the rage of a battle, but loud and close enough to attract the notice of the enemy commander.

Without further waiting, Julian leapt down the roof right onto the man piercing his blade right towards the neck of the man, aiming for a perfect strike which will make him lose his movability, and then his life. However, the Janissary commander's reaction speed is surprisingly fast for a man dressed like him as he rolled on the ground and successfully evaded Julian's strike.

The two men, both veterans of war fluent in the art of swordcraft, eyeing each other's movement closely. Moving around carefully they seek the perfect time to strike.

The Ottoman Janissary commander moved first. Holding his Kilij blade slanted on his right shoulder behind his head as a starting position. With a lightening speed he drew his blade horizontally swooping it targeting Julian's back, which got deflected pretty easily by the later. But he did not just stop there.

The Ottoman commander continued swooping his Kilij blade in a circle using the strength of his right hand and his wrist, sending it clashing again and again onto Julian trying to exploit a weakness or hole in defense of Julian, who found his opponent's strength overwhelming, trying to block with both of his hands holding tightly onto the grip of his Falchion sword, and finally, his hand could not take it anymore as his blade got knocked off onto the ground, the force sending Julian himself sitting onto the ground facing the tip of the Kilij with no more metal in his hands.

Julian gulped as he awaits his final fate, regretting his abrupt decision to jump down that roof and the carelessness of not taking an eye on the body of that damned archer just now.

"Try hard on us Rumelian! Try hard! You can never get here! You shall all be slitted by the blades of the sons of Osman! We can guard this gate until our death, now it is the time for you to…. Ah!!!"