Manuel, who was temporarily staying in the Grand Palace, was completely stunned when he learned of Dimitrios's death the next morning.
Especially when he personally saw Dimitrios's corpse, disfigured and burned like a wild dog by stones and torches in the street, being brought before him, his eyelids twitched slightly in shock—this manner of death was far too tragic for a royal noble.
To be fair, his Brother-in-law had colluded with foreign powers and harmed civilians; his death was not to be regretted. But no matter what, they were relatives, and Dimitrios was also Constantine XI's brother and his wife's brother. If Dimitrios's death caused discord or even a rupture in their relationship, it would definitely be a pure loss for Manuel now.
However, due to the current situation, he could not directly punish the Constantinople citizens who had beaten Dimitrios to death. Firstly, he did not inherently disapprove of their stance and actions in this matter, and secondly, he neither intended nor was able to go against public opinion now.
It seemed that he could only try to gloss over Dimitrios's death and let it pass. If possible, he would try to find some scapegoats to pin his Brother-in-law's death on...
Wait, it seemed there really were such convenient scapegoats in the city!
After realizing something, Manuel immediately summoned Badars, his Commander of the Guard, and in front of many city officials and his other subordinates, he ordered: "Although my Brother-in-law Dimitrios's crimes are unforgivable, he was ultimately incited by Ottoman heretics. These vile Muslims not only occupy our Roman lands and exploit our people, but they also further deceive nobles within the city to aid them. Now they have thrown Constantinople into chaos and still want to walk away scot-free. How can this be tolerated!"
"Therefore, no Ottoman spies must be allowed to escape Constantinople. We want them alive, or at least their bodies!"
"Yes, Your Majesty, loyalty!" His Commander of the Guard immediately understood the Caesar's demand and then rushed to order his subordinates to strictly enforce the command.
Besides Badars, Manuel also issued the order to his army. After reinstating the city officials and discussing the matter with them, he officially issued a warrant for Ottoman spies within Constantinople.
On the night Manuel issued the warrant, a brief skirmish occurred in the outer districts of Constantinople—
With the vigorous encirclement and suppression by the Bosporus Army and the cooperation of Constantinople citizens driven by hatred, the Ottoman spies, led by Greek-descended Muslims, were quickly discovered in the outer districts outside the Constantine city walls in the northern part of the city. At this time, several Philaka Soldiers from the Philaka Legion, led by citizens, immediately called their officers to surround these Ottoman.
Upon seeing these Philaka Soldiers whose attire was distinctly different from the common people, Yahya and the others immediately realized that their identities had been exposed. Seeing this, he simply steeled himself, drew the dagger he had been hiding at his waist with his right hand, dodged, and with lightning speed, stabbed it into the chest of the Philaka Soldiers closest to him.
Because Yahya's speed was as swift as a viper's strike, the Philaka Soldiers was unable to dodge in time and was directly stabbed in the chest by the spy leader, collapsing on the spot, unconscious.
But his fall also alerted those around him. Another Philaka Soldiers was quick-witted; before the spy leader could react further, he drew his scimitar and rushed forward, striking him in the chest. Taking advantage of the forced relaxation of his grip, he then swung his sword, severing the spy leader's right hand that held the dagger, and then kicked him away, separating him from his colleague.
Seeing their leader cut down, the remaining Ottoman spies also drew their hidden weapons, intending to fight the Philaka Soldiers to the death. The officer of these Philaka Soldiers also reacted swiftly, drawing his scimitar and protecting the subordinate who had first drawn his sword, moving forward to grapple with these Ottoman.
Once these spies were exposed, armed only with short knives and daggers and without armor protection, they were as vulnerable as common people in front of the elite Philaka Soldiers wielding weapons. Soon, these spies were defeated by the Philaka elite soldiers, either killed on the spot or rendered unable to fight.
Just as the Philaka officer let out a sigh of relief and turned around, intending to call his subordinates back to report. It was then that these Philaka Soldiers realized that many passersby and citizens had noticed the battle and were discussing it animatedly from a safe distance. Seeing this, the officer simply sheathed his sword, spontaneously and casually raising both hands to the crowd.
But at that moment, a spy who still had the strength to struggle suddenly forced himself up, abruptly revealing a hidden blade from his sleeve, and desperately rushed behind the officer, intending to slash his poisoned blade across the back of the officer's neck.
Just at this critical moment, a crossbow bolt suddenly shot from the crowd, piercing the spy's neck, killing him instantly and saving the officer's life. The officer, shaken but alive, looked gratefully towards the crowd after his terrifying experience. Then, he saw a black-haired young man holding a short crossbow. He had a pleasant face and wore a comfortable yet thick mantua robe, appearing to be Latin. The short crossbow in his hand also indicated that he was clearly the one who had extended a helping hand to these Philaka Soldiers just now.
"My God, I am infinitely grateful." The officer showed extreme courtesy and enthusiasm towards this young man, his savior, "May I ask your name and origin, sir?"
"I am from the Medici Family." The Latin youth smiled confidently as he stepped out of the crowd and shook hands with the Philaka Soldiers, revealing his origin.
"Medici? Another Medici?" The Philaka officer couldn't help but feel a headache: they had a well-known secret in Bosporus, that the director of the Autocratic State Bank was an illegitimate son of the Medici Family.
"Ah, Director Carlo? By seniority, he should be my... uncle?" The youth gave an awkward smile, seeming to have some relation to Carlo de Medici, but not much.
To change the somewhat awkward topic, the Medici Family member turned his head to the other side, shaking his head and sighing, "It's just a pity about that Christian warrior..."
"Don't worry, a dagger won't take his life." The officer smiled, gesturing for the Latin youth to look.
As the youth's gaze followed, the Philaka Soldiers who had been stabbed in the chest suddenly sprang up, patted the dust off his body, and chuckled. Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that he was wearing light, soft armor under his uniform, which was a mandatory requirement for Philaka Soldiers but had saved his life in the critical moment.
"Ah?" The youth's eyes widened, momentarily speechless.