Under the emperor's personal suppression, the great camp of Trajan's gate confronted each other silently, and no team dared to act rashly. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

All provisions, equipment, and supplies were also constantly being brought in from Fort Philip, and the goods of Fort Philip came from Constantinople, and the supplies of Constantinople were collected and distributed from the city of Prussa, and Caesar Brenus of the city of Prusa continued to diligently carry out the work of transporting supplies throughout Asia Minor, Tripoli, and Cyprus.

A month passed quickly, but this did not mean that Gawain was stiff - when early winter came, the Philippian Front on the southern front took the lead in military action. The two brigades of Nika and Epshkin once again entered the Athora Peninsula and came to Lavra Monastery.

This time, the two brigades had more than 10,000 soldiers, which was not at all the size of the two or three detachments of the previous Red Hand Brigade, and it was really unstoppable. The forests of the entire Ato Peninsula were set on fire by the forward soldiers, and the smoke obscured the surrounding sea and rolled with the wind. In the firelight, the main forces of the two brigades advanced along the roads on both sides of the island, and the reflection of cuirasses and spear blades was everywhere, while the stragglers wore Komnenianian-style "pot helmets", some of which were pointed helmets in the Persian Minor, carrying torches and swords, and searched and advanced in a dragnet through the mountains and forests in the center of the island.

Many natives and temple slaves hid everywhere, some did not dare to resist, and were pulled out and killed on the spot, while others bravely resisted with bows and arrows and catapults, but they did not prevail at all - especially in the face of the Nika brigade, which had already bloodily suppressed the revolt of Orthodox believers and peasants in Lydia, and now they were killing without any burden, and the rocks, grasses and bushes were full of the corpses of the slain nouts or temple slaves.

After half a day's work, the two armies began to merge at the southern tip of the peninsula, and their final destination was to cross the sacred mountain of Athos and capture the Monastery of Lavra.

Inside the monastery, dozens of monks ran in terror, fleeing the walls of the monastery with manuscripts, sacristy, candlesticks and iconostasis, and running along the rugged path towards the ships by the sea. There were several ships bound for Crete, and the crews on deck watched the fierce flames and iron hooves of the north shake as soon as they could.

This "great monastery", founded with the permission of Emperor John I, with a full number of 120 senior monks, seems to be coming to a tragic end.

Or rather, this peninsula, soaked in glory and sacredness, is about to be smoothed off the boots of lowly soldiers.

The Patriarch Maastas stood upright in front of the altar of the monastery, looking up at the trembling house of Soso, and the priests around him who were dressed in embroidered gold crosses were very frightened, and they all persuaded the Patriarch to hurry up and board the ship to meet John in Crete, and if it was any longer he would not be able to leave.

"What are you afraid of, I want to see Gawain's murderous soldiers." The Patriarch was solemn and calm.

As soon as the words fell, the flames of the monastery courtyard exploded, and several cavalrymen attached to the brigade let out a rough cry, carrying the sound of horses' hooves like a rainstorm, and rushed straight into the courtyard.

In the sound of thumping smoke and fire, the stone pillars of the antechamber were smashed and splashed with fire, and a large part of the mural was shattered in an instant. Before the monastery slaves could utter a shout, they were roped by the intruding cavalry, dragged behind the horses' hooves, and carried to the courtyard with a miserable cry and gurgling sound.

After seeing Gawain's soldiers, the Patriarch was somewhat embarrassed by several followers, and hurried from the back door towards the twilight hill.

The inky blue mountains and the sea are almost one, and the hills around the monastery are littered with torches carried by the encircling soldiers, like the stars of the Milky Way, and there are two flames on the seashore that stand out, from the last brig that stood there, and which will not depart, no matter how great the danger, will not leave until the Patriarch himself boards the ship.

The Patriarch stumbled along the mountain road, and the night owls and unknown birds on the trees around him were startled and swirled and fluttered with terrible cries.

Masdas regretted a little, in order to hold on to the holy mountain of Athos to highlight his majesty, he bravely stayed, waiting for Isaac, Berdin and other rebels to come to his aid, while John left a few ships and returned to Crete to clear the rebels.

But now Gawain has launched an even more ferocious attack on it, and Isaac, John, and Berdeen have all forgotten themselves, each taking care of their own territory, leaving themselves on the lonely Holy Mountain.

"Damn, but I won't give in, Gawain will pull me to Adrianople, or go to the imperial capital, it's just a change of battlefield that is more beneficial to me and continue to fight with him." With this mentality, the Patriarch of Mastas eliminated his previous remorse, and ran all the way to the beach at the foot of the mountain.

The whole coastal gravel land is lined with several weathered rocks, which are steep.

The Patriarch held one of them, looked at the brig still tied to the seashore, crossed his waist to adjust his breathing, and straightened his clothes, he could not board the ship in an overly embarrassed manner, which would be an insult to his identity and faith.

"Let's go, it's too late!" A priest holding the box, with the green tendons on his forehead about to burst out, trotted over to the patriarch and urged.

Behind the hill, torches lined up, and from there they descended, mixed with hurried orders and shouts, and the pursuers had indeed discovered this place.

Maastas looked back, straightened up, took an elegant step, and commanded the clergyman who was running more and more quickly in front of him with the box, "My dear, it is impossible for an enemy's arrow to hit the sail faster than I am for the sake of the enemy, and you will open the way ahead, and I will follow behind and walk like this." ”

The priest turned his head and looked at the Patriarch with an expression of "incomprehensibility," and went on running like the wind, carrying the box on his back and climbing onto the noisy side and deck of the brig.

In the sea breeze, the Patriarch faintly heard the conversation coming from the boat, as if someone was shouting, "Don't set sails, the one who is still walking towards us on the beach is Patriarch Maastas." ”

In the night, the Patriarch smiled resolutely, and he calmly walked towards the ship, knowing that it was time to show the "Guardian Style" to this ancient and unyielding empire.

"How can there be no ambush here?" So Maastas spoke in an elegant and authentic Greek tone, pronounced like a poetic drama, looked left and right, stepped on the soft gravel, and deliberately spoke aloud to the ship.

As soon as the words were spoken, a group of cavalry waving flags rushed from a certain pass on the beachhead like lightning.

Screams rang out, and the Patriarch froze in place.

The brig hastily cut the cable tied to the shore before his eyes, and the clergy on deck wept as if they were mourning his funeral in advance, and soon the ship left the shore in the turbulent waves, leaving him alone on land......

Patriarch Maastas, fifty-nine, was captured by the cavalry attached to the Nika Brigade a moment before he boarded the ship.