The abrupt statement from the Germanic merchant completely shattered the peaceful and quiet atmosphere of their previous conversation.
Manuel, Giovanni, and the others looked at the High German with incredulity and disdain, as if they were looking at a hopeless fool.
Since the originally harmonious and smooth atmosphere was broken by such remarks, Manuel and the others did not continue their discussion and instead returned to their respective quarters on the ship.
However, before that, Manuel, who was quite disgusted with the man, still mocked him a few times before reuniting with his wife and children: "'Holy Roman Empire'? Where is 'Holy'? Where is 'Roman'? Where is 'Empire'??
"As far as I know, since Louis of Bavaria ①, your emperors no longer seek the Pope's endorsement; can this be called 'Holy'? And after Charles IV, your incompetent emperor specifically issued the Golden Bull, acknowledging the privileges of the princes and decentralizing the right to elect to the so-called Seven Prince-Electors—it's an absolute joke, what kind of empire is that ②? Furthermore, since the Carolingian dynasty, the Pope has not been influenced by you Germans; where is Rome? You wouldn't consider Prague, Aachen, or Vienna as Rome, would you?
"In summary, your country is neither Holy, nor Roman, nor an Empire."
The High German merchant was completely stunned by the Greek's rebuttal.
After a while, he gradually came to his senses, his face flushed, and he angrily shouted at Manuel, who was about to leave,
"What about you Greeks? An empire that left Italy in disgrace at some unknown time and doesn't even have Rome—do you have the right to call yourselves the 'Roman Empire'?'"
Hearing this, Manuel's blood pressure surged.
He immediately displayed a warm smile tinged with anger and threat, turning to retort, "Rome? In fact, when the western part of the Empire was disintegrated by you Franks and Germans, 'power shifted from Rome to our New Rome, and even the position of religious leader followed suit, not to mention the Senate and imperial bureaucracy.' ③ From the time the Germanic barbarians, led by the Goths, destroyed the western Empire, Rome was left with only thieves, bandits, and prostitutes, while our New Rome is the true Rome!
"One last correction: although I don't dislike the term Greek, strictly speaking, we are Romans.
Thank you."
As soon as he finished speaking, Manuel walked away without looking back, leaving the Germanic merchant to rage impotently in the wind, alone and disheveled.
However, before returning to his cabin on the ship, the young Latin named Giovanni called out to him somewhat distractedly, expressing a desire to speak with Manuel again.
Manuel did not refuse, but paused for a moment longer, chatting with Giovanni again—
"Um, were your statements about Rome and Italy just now serious, sir?" Giovanni asked with some unease.
"So, I was heard after all; well, I was shouting quite loudly just now." Manuel shrugged a little helplessly, "No, not really. To be honest, I was just trying to annoy that arrogant Frankish German. Although I do have some prejudice against Northern Italy because of the events of 1204, it's not as severe as the words I deliberately spoke just now."
After hearing the other party's response, Giovanni lowered his head and remained silent for a moment.
Then, he curiously asked Manuel: "Excuse me, is Lord Manuel from Constantinople?"
"Hmm, no.
But I have relatives living in Constantinople," he smiled, "I was born in Chersonesus, which is now Bangkok Pu in Bosporus.
Although my ancestors were from Pontus, having lived in Tauris for so long, our branch should be considered Goths."
"Goths? But I just heard you say that the barbarians, led by the Goths, destroyed the western Empire?"
"Ah, this..." Manuel's face showed an awkward smile; the boomerang had hit him in the head, "Ah haha, don't mind those details.
Moreover, it was the Ostrogoths and Visigoths who destroyed Western Rome; we Tauris Goths have always stayed in the Tauris Peninsula and are very Roman."
"..."
"Sir, don't make that face; although I am a Goth, I am also a proper Roman!"
After finally convincing the Latin that Goths were also Romans, the other party suddenly, without warning, posed a question: "If Goths are also Romans, can Latins also be Romans?"
"Of course," Manuel replied without hesitation, "as long as you sincerely feel you are a Roman, then you are a Roman... let's just assume that for now; in reality, becoming a Roman isn't that idealistic.
But for the specifics of how to become one, you'd best ask those old Romans, wouldn't you?"
"What a mess."
After concluding this rather casual follow-up conversation with the Latin, Manuel and his family settled into their cabin, safely passing the third day at sea.
On the morning of the fourth day, the caravel, as planned, docked at the port of Akkerman Citadel in the southern Bessarabia region of the Principality of Moldavia.
The port of Citadel, under the Roman Empire, was called Maurocastrum (Μαυρόκαστρον), meaning "Black Castle."
It is worth noting that, unlike the province of Dacia, which was abandoned early on, it had always been Roman territory and was once part of the Dobruja military district.
Unfortunately, due to the rise of the Bulgar Slavs and the disaster of 1204, this border port changed hands multiple times, finally being recovered by the Moldavian Wallachians from Genoa in the last century, and renamed from Moncastro, as the Latins called it, to Cetatea Albă, which means "White Castle" in Wallachian.
Incidentally, in historical fact, it was later conquered by the Russians and renamed Akkerman, while the border Rusyns, or Ukrainians, called it Bilhorod-Dnistrovskyi.
After disembarking, Manuel couldn't help but shake his head as he looked at Citadel, which had long become predominantly Wallachian and filled with Latin merchants.
This was normal; one of the terms when Moldavia reclaimed it from Genoa was to allow the latter to continue trading in the port.
Never mind, thinking about such extraneous things was pointless.
With this in mind, Manuel cast aside his fanciful thoughts, bid farewell to a few merchants he had befriended on the ship, and then, accompanied by Badars and others, led his family towards the main city of Akkerman.
He had already arranged to meet his brother-in-law there to discuss important matters between their two countries.
After bidding him farewell, the merchants, who had met him by chance, also went their separate ways.
Among them, Giovanni, after a brief stop, found his family's contact person and returned to the port, preparing to go back to Lesbos.
"Young Lord, what makes you so happy?" Seeing his master's joyful expression, the contact's attendant couldn't help but ask.
"Nothing, I just met a true Roman." The young Latin noble waved his hand, dismissing the topic.
At this moment, the morning sea breeze picked up, gently lifting the outer garment of the brown-haired, brown-eyed man, revealing the inner lining embroidered with his name—
Giovanni Giustiniani Longo.
While Giovanni was preparing to return to the Aegean Sea islands where his family had sent him, Manuel had already settled his wife and children and met with his brother-in-law, Stephen II, the Voivode of Moldavia, in a mansion within Akkerman.
The former Voivode of Moldavia, Alexandru I "the Good," had passed away a few years prior, and after a series of political struggles, Stephen II, supported by various factions, ascended to the throne of Voivode after promising to share power with his brothers.
And one of Stephen's supporters, naturally, was his in-law, the Gavras Family.
Although Manuel himself was then campaigning against the Ottoman in Asia Minor and unable to attend to the matter, Prince Alexius and Barbara, who remained in Tauris as regents, provided Stephen with certain diplomatic support.
After brief pleasantries and a shared prayer, Stephen II was the first to question his brother-in-law, "Brother-in-law, have you come this time to join Moldavia in resisting the Turk infidels to the south?"
Due to Manuel's victory and the Ottoman's predicament in Asia Minor, not only Hungary, but even smaller states like Moldavia and Wallachia, which were forced to submit to the Sultanate, began to harbor thoughts of resistance.
But Manuel himself almost couldn't maintain his composure at this moment; the Ottoman was not a chicken to be castrated by small countries like them!?
Looking at his brother-in-law's expectant gaze, he was at a loss for words for a moment.
After a while, he said seriously, "Brother-in-law, Bosporus is a weaker state than even the three Danubian Principalities ④; I'm afraid it doesn't possess the strength you imagine.
"And I am merely a weak Autocratic State Caesar, not the King of Hungary, Poland, or Lithuania.
Our previous small victory in peace talks with the Ottoman was merely a stroke of luck."