Five days later, the forces were now preparing to depart for the Greek lands, marching south from Edirne to Athens. It would take some time to get there.
A messenger rushed in. "Pasha! There's news. A nearby force is requesting to join us in the battle."
Ah, it seems we have additional support. "Muhtasin, attend to it. Who might it be?"
After a short while, Muhtasin returned. "My Şehzade, forces from Albania are offering to aid us in the rebellion."
"Greetings, my Şehzade. I am Kara Mahmud Pasha. I would like to offer my assistance in the battles ahead. Ever since Taganrog, we have been proud to support the prince!" He bowed, placing his hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Kara Mahmud Pasha. I am honoured to have you by my side. How many men are you bringing?"
"15,000 men."
That's quite a lot, not going to lie. "Very well, Pasha. It shall be done. Let us march to glory then. Muhtasin, raise the order to begin the march."
Muhtasin bowed.
~~
In total, our forces numbered around 20,000—15,000 from the Albanian province, 2,500 from the 40th Orta, and the rest from my personal Janissary guard assigned to me.
Along the way, several more forces offered to assist us—Sipahis. With their addition, our numbers rose to 23,000.
~~
January, 1771
While we managed to arrived at Larissa. The resistance was mild, eventhough there's some battles previously.
~~
"Focus fire! Support the rear position!"
"You have the weapon! Aim and Shoot the rebels!"
It starts when suddenly, we were attacked by the rebels en route to Larissa. The shots firing from both sides, while the rest defending, I quickly regroup with Cemil and Sahin.
"How's everybody?" I asked to them.
"We managed to make it through. A few injuries, but no fatalities," Cemil replied, Sahin reloading his muskets.
"The left flank held, thanks to Muhtasin's quick decision to give cover. The rebels didn't expect resistance that coordinated," he added.
The gunfire still echoed through the hills, but it was thinning. I could hear the rebels shouting in retreat, their lines breaking one by one as our volleys pushed them back into the forested ridges.
"Advance with caution! Watch the treeline!" I commanded, moving forward with sword in hand.
Smoke lingered in the air. Our men stood firm, bloodied but disciplined, and the enemy slowly disappeared beyond the hills, leaving behind scattered weapons and wounded fighters.
"They're retreating, Shehzade!" someone called out from the vanguard.
"Let them run. We still not reached Larissa yet," I answered, lowering my blade.
Once the last echo of battle faded into the cold January wind, we began reorganizing our ranks. The wounded were tended, so far, minimal cassualties, and the men given a moment to breathe.
~~
At Larissa, we rested for a while before proceeding to Athens. We were discussing how to siege the city as peacefully as possible.
"To continue our advance to Athens, we need to discourage the rebels. So far, we've managed to clear the surrounding areas before arriving here," I said.
Muhtasin studied the map laid before us. "From Larissa to Athens, it's about 57 fersakh. Since we brought the 18-pounder cannons, we could break their walls if needed."
57 Fersakh is equivalent to 317 km.
"But they are still our people," Cemil countered, folding his arms. "Using cannons against them feels excessive. If they were foreign enemies, that's different—but these are Ottomans."
I nodded thoughtfully, sipping from my cup. A distant memory flickered—of a tale told in my youth. Sayyidina Ali, the Lion of God, flung himself into the heart of the enemy during a siege, knocking down defenders and opening the gates from within.
I set the cup down slowly. "What if we use that same spirit—not by hurling men with trebuchets—but by infiltrating? We send our strongest men ahead under the cover of night. With grappling hooks and light gear, they scale the lesser-guarded sections of the wall. Once inside, they open the gates from within."
Muhtasin raised an eyebrow. "A silent breach?"
"Exactly. We'll stage a diversion at the front with cannon placement and formations—enough to keep attention fixed. Meanwhile, our men move from the rear."
Cemil looked at the map again, nodding slowly. "If we coordinate it well, we could take the city without firing a single shot."
I smiled. "We honour the spirit of Sayyidina Ali not by launching bodies—but by launching courage, strategy, and unity."
All had agreed to the plan, and preparations were well underway. Yet I remained where I was, seated by the brazier, enjoying the warmth of my drink beneath the lantern's soft glow.
Cemil approached with his usual half-smile.
"So, Shehzade… still unable to sleep?"
I exhaled slowly, watching the steam rise from the cup.
"Indeed. Strange, isn't it? Even after the success at Taganrog, I feel the weight of battle pressing on my chest. It's as if the winds of war refuse to let go."
He chuckled lightly, resting his hand on the table.
"Well, every warrior takes his first step eventually. Though in your case, Shehzade, it seems you've taken your tenth before most take their first."
I smirked at that. "Touché, Cemil."
He bowed slightly. "Get some rest, my prince. Tomorrow, Athens awakens under your banner."