Chapter 1019: The Tower Will Collapse, Everyone Is a Traitor

Chapter 1019 -241: The Tower Will Collapse, Everyone Is a Traitor

The news of the fall of Hamadan no longer stirs much commotion in Tarsus.

The army led by Ali Atabeg was disastrously defeated beneath the walls of Hades City, with fewer than three thousand returning out of an army over sixty thousand strong.

The iron hooves of the Franks press on the borders, unstoppable wherever they go, already poised at the gates of Tarsus, leaving no one to care about the distant Tatars.

Mustafa stood beneath the laurel tree at his residence, this elder statesman who served through two generations of Kings of Kings, feeling quite desolate at heart.

“Father, what did His Majesty say to you, was it more details about the evacuation?”

Mustafa shook his head: “Everything will be discussed once we return to the estate.”

“After I die, remember to proceed with caution,”

“Father, why do you say such things?”

“His Majesty has met with the Frankish Basileus.”

“What? When!”

“Just before His Majesty summoned me.”

Mustafa chuckled: “Such a frightening tactic, right?”

“He must have been terrified; that child has never been a wise and resolute ruler, so he decided to hand me over as a ‘manipulative minister,’ and retreat to the life of a wealthy man, which is actually understandable.”

“Father, it’s not the end yet!”

The young Persian noble’s eyes were red: “Is the emperor of the Franks truly demanding your life? No, they merely found an excuse; whether you wield power is utterly irrelevant to them.”

“I have studied the conduct of that Emperor Losa; he is a pragmatist who employs anyone beneficial to him without concern for their origins.”

“He chose to support Kusru not because he ignores the wealth of Mesopotamia, but because faced with the Tatar threat, he must stabilize the situation swiftly to resist these Tatar wolves.”

He declared with firm tone: “In Tarsus, who can stabilize the city rapidly and provide supplies to the Franks, if not you?”

“Are you asking me to betray Bahram?”

Mustafa laughed and shook his head, having governed for forty years; what his son could see, he could certainly understand.

“Father, he betrayed you first!”

“All my life, the most precious wealth has been the word ‘loyalty’; this will be our family legacy. Even Saladin burned himself out for his family, falling at Losa’s hands. Do I lack such courage?”

“Father! The Franks are not the Tatars; a nomadic country cannot persist, whereas the Franks might. As the sacred fire diminishes and the cross rises, if we are scapegoated, who knows if there will be a chance to clear our name!”

Mustafa was jolted, gazing intently at his son’s familiar face, as if recognizing him anew.

“Are you certain? If you step forward, our family’s reputation will be utterly tarnished; no one likes fickle traitors, and the Franks may not protect us. Since you said Losa seeks stability, won’t he turn against us?”

Mustafa furrowed his brow, having pondered these matters himself.

But he always felt that once he accomplished his deeds, with his reputation in tatters, Losa might cast him out to appease public resentment.

“I’ve thought it through; those who vacillate are the most detestable. Since we choose to side with the Franks, I believe more notorious we are, the more trustworthy we seem. Father, Losa is not easily swayed.”

“He promotes talent and merit, and if we assist him in stabilizing the Sassan situation and provide military supplies, isn’t it a grand achievement?”

“This is the first time I’ve heard you praise this barbarian king so much.”

“Such words couldn’t be spoken before.”

Mustafa fell silent for a long time, finally speaking: “Then proceed as you’ve said.”

“Yes, Father!”

…

Below the city, a dense array of Frankish Cavalry awaited, distinguished by varied coveralls.

The three-headed Demon Dragon circled overhead, ready to unleash Dragon Flame at any moment.

“Do you think the Baghdadis will choose surrender or destruction?”

Jeanne shook her head: “I think they won’t; historically, the Baghdadis never surrendered to the Tatars, and this time likely won’t be different.”

“Baghdad is the holy city and capital in the eyes of all Fire Worship civilizations; choosing surrender would instantly erase these sacred auras.”

“I don’t think Bahram can endure such a consequence.”

If Emperor Chongzhen had defected directly to Dashun or the Houjin, later generations might not even raise cries to restore the Ming dynasty amidst rebellion.

Cre-e-eak, the city gates opened.

The Nestorian leader of Baghdad, carrying a massive cross, walked somewhat arduously towards Losa.

“Praise the Heavenly Father, praise Saint Losa.”

“May the Heavenly Father bless you; are you Machha, the Patriarch of Baghdad? It’s an honor to meet you.”

Baghdad is the center of Sassan Nestorianism; Machha is akin to the Great Shepherd of Eastern Orthodox Church and His Holiness the Pope in Catholicism.

Under this Patriarch, there are twenty-five Archbishop territories, reaching as far west as Damascus and east to Khanbaliq, the central capital of Jin Kingdom. Despite its wide distribution, Nestorianism never becomes the mainstream religion, hence remains unnoticed.

Machha has long been secretly connected with the Shadow of Darkness, practically an insider spy.

Losa’s treatment of Copts in Egypt left Machha envious.

Nestorianism, or the Nestorian Christians, had high standing in early Sassanid Empire, nearly comparable to Fire Worshippers; but as the religious atmosphere intensified, Nestorians in Sassan faced increasing hardship.

Firstly, the Gizya Tax, or nonbeliever tax, dramatically increased; then with escalating Frankish threats, some dioceses and city guilds openly refused to admit Christians to engage in trades or crafts.

Eventually, incidents occurred where Fanatics destroyed churches and killed Nestorians without any punishment.

Machha knelt and kissed Losa’s red boots: “Your Majesty, the Christians of Baghdad have lived under the yoke of Fire Worshippers for countless ages; now with your arrival, a dawn finally appears.”

“You need not do this, Bishop.”

Losa quickly took on a modest demeanor and offered aid.

“Your Majesty, under Fire Worshipper rule, we were perpetually taxed with Gizya, our churches restricted from renovation, children barred from openly reading the Gospel — identical to the oppression you witnessed in Egypt.”

With tears in his eyes, Machha lamented: “Your arrival will shatter the shackles binding our necks and limbs; our gratitude knows no bounds.”

Losa smiled: “Rest assured, in the future, under the Overseas Empire, all Christians will be treated equally; like Egyptian Copts, you will retain your churches, dioceses, and property, unharmed and unhindered.”

Machha crossed himself: “Thank you, Your Majesty, akin to Charlemagne the Great, protector of the Great Orthodox Church, all Eastern believers will see you as savior and the sole legitimate monarch.

Now as you are about to enter Baghdad, we know the layout of every street and warehouse; we can guide your troops for a peaceful entry, avoiding skirmishes. The city’s Nestorian merchants are willing to offer thirty percent of their wealth as the foundation for your rule, and the church’s treasury will open to support your continued Eastern Expedition.”