Several Aragonese soldiers were wearing solid wooden sticks with ropes on their chests, and they staggered and walked forward on the beach with difficulty.

In the shallow water on the shore not far behind them, a Calavelle sea boat that had put down all its sail poles was moving slowly forward.

With a wave of orders, the soldiers finally stopped and threw away their ropes and sat on the ground, gasping for breath. At the same time, they were secretly cursing the Castile who treated them as coolies.

"They are definitely scolding me, I can bet with anyone," Gonzalo said to the deputy general standing beside him. Seeing the strange smile on his face, Gonzalo continued to touch his obvious big chin with his hand, "I bet you are scolding me too, the bet is in the vineyards in my territory."

The deputy general then showed an unspoken smile on his face, and then followed the ladder behind Gonzalo to the boat next to the boat: "Sir, you know that I can deny your guesses to lose my reputation in order to get your vineyard."

"So you are really scolding me," Gonzalo murmured in a low voice. "I want to know now how many people don't want to obey my orders, because we may have a battle with the pagans next."

"I can assure you that all soldiers will rush towards the enemy without hesitation as long as you give orders. It is our responsibility as a devout Christian."

"I absolutely believe this, but this still can't stop you from scolding me, right?" Gonzalo asked, and seeing the deputy general showing another strange smile of "you know", Gonzalo couldn't help but shake his head. "I have promised all of you that this will be a rare opportunity. You should know that Crete has gathered so much wealth over the years that is enviable. I promise you that everyone can get much more than you can think of."

"But this was not allowed by the king after all," said the deputy general, lowering his voice in Gonzalo's ear, "I have to remind you that although you have not expressed any objection to your help to the Venetians, the king seems to be very dissatisfied with your failure to land in Naples as soon as possible. This is not a secret for many officers. If you cannot calm these unfavorable comments as soon as possible, I am worried that someone may come forward and reject your order."

"Thank you, my friend," Gonzalo casually patted the deputy general's shoulder with his hands, and his eyes turned to the seemingly calm coast. "How many people are there on this island?"

"It was less than 2,000," a guide quickly replied, "It was originally more, but after the Ottomans came, many people were frightened and fled back to Venice."

"But didn't Ottoman occupy the opposite land before?" Gonzalo looked northeastern in the distance, because the weather was good, and you could vaguely see the hazy coastline of the Greek coast in the distance. "They are so close to Kissilla Island, have they never come to harass people on the island before?"

"Sir, you're asking," said the guide with a little proud look. "Although there were not many soldiers stationed on the island before, we were enough fleets that could drive away the Ottomans. Those Ottoman troops that occupied Greece could only threaten us on land, but their boats were pitifully few on the water, and we were not afraid of them."

Speaking of this, the guide shook his head helplessly: "But that's all the time. I heard that the Ottomans were defeated in Bucharest. We thought that maybe even Greece could be recovered, but then the Ottoman fleet came, and our last fleet was sent to Crete. Now the people on the island were scared to death because they didn't know when the Ottomans came."

Gonzalo nodded silently, he glanced at the deputy general next to him, patted his shoulder: "We go to Kissilla first and then go directly to Crete. I believe that this trip that you will definitely not regret. I promise you all will be fulfilled, and maybe even more will be obtained."

The deputy general curled his lips gently, and he knew very well that the commander would be so confident because he was not only Isabella's favorite, but also the commander who had defeated the French. In order to deal with Louis XII, who was obviously more difficult than Charles VII, King Ferdinand had to tolerate his arrogance and rudeness again and again.

Crete's wealth did attract soldiers who were eager to gain wealth through war, but only changed their march targets without authorization, or even changed their warring enemies, which made Gonzalo's officers hesitate.

"Believe me, the Ottoman fleet would not be so easy to encounter with us, because their enemies were Venetians, and we could just drive away the pagans who had landed on Crete," Gonzalo explained to his deputy. "Then everything there would be ours, and if possible, we would drive the Ottomans away from near Crete, and drive them back across the Mediterranean, and at that time, I believe that our king would only put his flag on Crete for us and reward and thank us."

The deputy general looked at Gonzalo silently, then bowed slightly to him.

Gonzalo's promise was arithmetic, and although the process was not as easy as he said, when the Aragonese army supplemented the port from Venice's base on the island of Kissirah and then advanced to Crete, the battle with the Ottomans along the way proved his previous words.

Unlike what the guide said, the Venetians had a very powerful fleet in Kissilla, which was also one of the main forces used by the Venetians to resist the Ottoman Navy. Although the Ottomans had landed in Crete, the Venetians obviously did not want to give up this sea base that was extremely important to them, so they tried their best to organize several fleets to prepare for a decisive battle with the Ottomans at sea.

The appearance of this fleet made Gonzalo's last little worry disappear. He joined the Venetians and marched towards Crete after a brief rest.

On November 9, Aragonese troops landed on Cape Spant, southwest of Crete under the cover of the Venetian fleet.

At this point, the Crete battle with the Venetian and Aragonian coalition forces as one side and the Ottomans landing in northeastern Crete began.

Alexander sat in the peculiar wooden house of Count Modilo. November was already very cold, and the cold wind from under the wooden boards made people feel uncomfortable, but this inconvenience seemed insignificant compared to the information brought by the man he was about to meet.

A middle-aged man in a distinctly oriental style stood not far in front of Alexander. The big-looking Guterra turban on the man's head made him look like a pagan from afar, but his appearance looked like a typical European.

"Madam, let me say hello to you, sir." The man said curiously and looked at Alexander. In his impression, the lady with great power was a real strange man, but her cautious attitude when she talked about this count in the past made the middle-aged man become very interested in what strange things the count had.

"Is Mrs. Connieou okay?" Alexander asked.

It's been months since the Venice room, Alexander is very interested in what the elusive woman is doing now.

"Madam is in the East now, please believe that I am farther away than you can imagine," the messenger said deliberately, "Madam is in Persia now."

Alexander nodded slightly. He already knew what Connie O was doing now.

The latest meeting with Connie in Venice made Alexander learn about something that was crucial to him. When he heard that Peloto Caderon was the son of Jem, the brother of Valice II, he immediately made a plan that would never suffer any loss for him.

In this plan, Peloto Caderon became the key, and what is more important is not the pawn that can compete with Bayesette II or his descendants for the throne of Sultan, because as far as Alexander knows, whether Bayesette II or his son, the future Selim I, is not a good opponent. Alexander is actually not optimistic about whether Caderon can inspire the Ottomans to betray the current Sultan in his early years.

What he really focused on was another person, a "little brat" with extraordinary genius, and even legendary life experience.

He became the leader of the sect at the age of 12, and quickly rose again at the age of 13 after experiencing a devastating defeat. He established his own country at the age of 15. Such a character can only be described as "monster" or "miracle" in any era.

Ismayi I, a young man who can only be described incredible, a figure who almost almost shook the legend of the Ottoman rule in the East.

In 1499, he was exactly 12 years old, the year when he became the leader of the Sheikh in the Safi Sect.

"Madam wants guidance from you," the messenger said this. In his mind, Connieo is a woman who is more scheming and smarter than most men. Even in the East where men are the main ones, she can easily wander among those forces. She brings a lot of money from one tribe to another, and then goes to the next. Through this activity like a threading needle, she has established a huge network of relationships in the far east ruled by the Ottomans.

Connie O obviously put her hope on Peloto Caderon. She hopes that by persuading Jem's old subordinates to establish an armed force against Bayesette II, she also hopes that Caderon can play a role.

"This may be possible, but don't count too much," Alexander ignored Connie O's request brought by the messenger. In his opinion, Caderon might have such a little effect, but it seemed too trivial compared to the miraculous son Ismay I.

"But Madam asked me to report to you about the Safi Order," the messenger said helplessly. "We have seen the pagan corps far away in Persia. They are not only poor but also like a mess. As for the young leader you brought your wife's attention, they are even more like a child. It is because of this that Madam feels strange. She thinks that perhaps you should know more about what happened in the East. After all, compared with more important things, the pagan child really has nothing to pay attention to."

Alexander knew that Connie O's so-called more important thing naturally refers to using Caderon to win over Jem's old subordinates. Although he had to admit that Connie O's idea was not only correct, but it seemed very useful now, but Alexander had a greater purpose.

"The lady has contacted many people, and they can cause a lot of trouble for the Ottomans." The messenger was confident. In his opinion, the young Count was obviously not comparable to Mrs. Connieou. "If possible, maybe we can build a force that can compete with Constantinople."

"If that's the case, maybe your wife will want to be the master of Constantinople next," Alexander easily pointed out Connieo's ambitions. Although he was working together, he did not doubt at all that if the woman had the chance, she would not mind using the power of the Ottomans to eradicate all her enemies. "You can tell your wife that I will not object to her plan, but what I asked her to do is equally important. If she still wants to get enough help from me, then she should not forget to promise me and contact the Safis as soon as possible. If it is possible to establish a sufficient trust relationship with their leaders, it would be better. In order to achieve this, I can provide her with all the help she needs."

"But that Ismayi was just a child, and it is said that even some nobles within the sects seemed to have doubts about his inheritance. Do you think that such a child is more important than an Ottoman prince?"

Looking at the messenger's puzzled face, Alexander hooked his fingers slightly to him and told him closer, "I know this is not just your own doubt. I think Connieo is actually very surprised by why I pay so much attention to a pagan sect far away in Persia. Now I tell you, I will be interested in that child because I know he is much smarter than many of you. When you are still at his age, most of you may not have left home or are still at ignorance and ignorance, but this child is not only personally

After experiencing the tragedy of my father being murdered and my brother paying the price of his life to protect him, I became a leader of the sect at the age of 12. Tell me what you have experienced at his age. Maybe some have had misfortunes, but I promise that none of you are as brave as he is. I sent him the weapons I promised to me, especially those firearms. I believe that you will soon find that this is not only completely worth the reward, but may even get much more than you think."

Just as two people were painting sweet and delicious pancakes for others with similar words, in the Lombardy region of northern Italy, a cruel battle began near the town of Taro Valley, not far from Genoa.

When Louis XII ordered his soldiers to attack the Montinas in the town of Taro Valley, the French army encountered the first fierce bombardment as terrible as the artillery that had always made them proud.

When this happened, the French king remembered the saying "This is a unique army" that was repeatedly emphasized in Charleon's report.
Chapter completed!