Just as the main Crusader force, led by the Hungarian Army, was about to meet the main Ottoman force, near the village of Krushkite, south of Varna, Bosporus Caesar Manuel, personally leading ten thousand Bosporus Army soldiers, was facing off against fifteen thousand Ottoman soldiers led by the great general Turahan Bey.
The extra five thousand soldiers in the latter's ranks were local Christians he had forcibly conscripted in Bulgaria, on the Sultan's orders.
Looking at the Ottoman Army arrayed in a formidable defensive posture before him, Manuel and his close subordinates' expressions grew increasingly grim: it was clear that Sultan Murad had no intention of letting them enter Varna to rendezvous with their fellow Christian allies.
"How long until the follow-up reinforcements arrive?" the Caesar sternly questioned his Pontus Army Commander, Dungar.
While the main force had set off ahead to Varna, he had also arranged for a batch of reinforcements to come by land and sea, as a precaution and to guard the rear.
He hadn't expected to need them so soon.
"Dungar, Tukharovsky, do you think we can defeat this group of Ottoman if the reinforcements don't arrive in time?" Thinking of the potentially desperate situation by Varna Lake, Manuel's expression became extremely solemn, but the hooves of his Tatar warhorse were already beginning to pound the ground.
"Your Majesty, the most difficult part is not defeating this group of Ottoman, but rather facing the main force personally led by the Ottoman Sultan afterwards," the Rus' commander, whose name the Caesar had called, cautiously offered his opinion, while another commander to the Caesar's right nodded, agreeing with his colleague.
"Enough," Manuel first closed his eyes, then opened them wide, "Holy Father protect us, prepare for battle, all troops attack!"
And as the Caesar made the decision to engage, on Kamchiya Beach, north of Mesembria, a centurion of the Bosporus Army was calling to his subordinates to follow the main force towards Varna.
Ahead of them, General Barbaro Talostos, trusted by the Caesar, was carefully leading his five thousand soldiers methodically towards the northern battlefield, ready to support his monarch at any moment.
During this time, he inadvertently looked east towards the Black Sea, where formations of galleys were rushing north.
Clearly, this navy had the same destination as Barbaro and his men.
This made the Altzamtao descendant, who had received the Caesar's favor, realize even more the immense task they bore today.
"Give the order, the entire army will march at forced march speed," he, having recently received the Caesar's personal order, made this decisive command and marched his army north.
Just as the Bosporus Army engaged in battle with the Ottoman detachment led by Turahan Bey, the Crusaders, after a brief moment of surprise, also chose to face the Turk's scimitars, shedding their blood on the battlefield as they had before.
On the foremost battlefield, Hussite war wagons, pushed to the front, covered the Crusader sappers clearing the Ottoman fortifications on the field, while elite plate-armored knights sallied forth to prevent the Ottoman from reclaiming their positions.
The Ottoman cavalry, slightly less valorous than the plate-armored knights, were momentarily at a loss, being routed and thrown from their horses, relying entirely on the artillery bombardment from the central army to prevent the Christian from gaining a complete advantage.
After a brief vanguard skirmish, the Sultan, shaken by the Christian's bravery, immediately recognized the flaws in his previously set tactics.
The calm and collected Murad immediately ordered a tactical adjustment, sending word to bring in the 15,000 troops ambushing in the north.
In the remainder of the battle, he would not use these troops to block the northern route, but instead call upon them to fight when engagements became difficult.
At the same time, he secretly ordered his heavy cavalry not to fight to the death with the enemy, but to feign a rout at opportune moments, luring the enemy to charge towards the seemingly vulnerable flanks or the center.
Thus, the second round of engagement began.
The Ottoman light cavalry and horse archers launched an assault on the allied right flank, and the infantry on the allied right flank immediately resisted stubbornly with the Hussite war wagon formation, repelling the enemy's attack.
Seeing this, Fruzhin, the Bulgarian prince on the left flank, immediately led the Slavic hussars of the left flank in pursuit of the seemingly weak Ottoman left flank.
But the Ottoman left flank was a trap!
In less than a quarter of an hour, the left flank hussars, due to their reckless pursuit, were ambushed by Ottoman Sipahi heavy cavalry.
A part of the army, separated from the main force, could not withstand the enemy's cavalry and quickly collapsed, and Fruzhin could only retreat in disarray to his lines, to avoid being routed along with the collapsing cavalry.
At this moment, Kasim Pasha, the Ottoman Governor of Rumelia, seemed to see hope, and in his joy, he led the Ottoman Army in another attempt to attack the allied forces from the left flank.
The experienced Hunyadi, learning of this situation, immediately led two German heavy armored cavalry legions to provide support.
And just before leaving, the "White Knight" specifically cautioned the young king, "Your Majesty, please do not act rashly.
The Ottoman center appears so lax that it needs their Sultan to be present, but in reality, it gathers almost all of their elite infantry.
If..."
"Alright, Master Hunyadi, you can go with confidence," Cardinal Cesarini, the papal envoy with a Mediterranean tonsure and clad in heavy armor, said confidently to the commander with a smile, "With this humble one here, Your Majesty will absolutely be safe and sound."
"For the Lord's sake, I entrust everything to you," receiving the envoy's assurance, Hunyadi seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
At over fifty years old, he seemed twenty years younger, putting all his courage into supporting the left flank.
Only, he did not notice that the young king behind them had a subtle change in his expression.
In less than a quarter of an hour, Hunyadi's offensive achieved great success.
The exceptionally elite plate-armored cavalry charged repeatedly, almost destroying the Ottoman's offensive, and this highly experienced Hungarian veteran general immediately led more warriors in a counterattack against the Ottoman Army.
The latter's lines were tottering, and more and more enemies even dropped their weapons and fled.
If it weren't for the incessant roar of the Ottoman artillery, Hunyadi would have led his army to flank the enemy's formation.
In this way, even if this battle couldn't heavily damage the Ottoman, it would surely allow the Crusaders to retreat safely, he thought.
Thinking of this, Hunyadi couldn't help but smile with heartfelt relief.
But at this moment, the fate of the Christian took a turn, and just like many inexplicable events in history, something happened that made Hunyadi's hair stand on end.
The young Polish king suddenly led 500 elite Polish heavy cavalry guards, swiftly leaving the main formation, and launched a reckless yet brave charge towards the chaotic Ottoman central army, which was where the Sultan's imperial carriage was located, just as he had done before on the battlefield.
Behind him, Cardinal Cesarini was reaching out and shouting something, but the noise on the battlefield was so loud that no one could hear his words clearly.
What happened next was a miracle!
Władysław III, with only 500 Polish knights, actually broke through several lines of defense in a short time!
Hundreds and thousands of infidels futilely gathered, trying to stop him, but they were crushed again and again!
Artillery continuously bombarded these Polish brave warriors, but it was in vain as they galloped at high speed!
The Polish king's warhorse was covered in fine sweat, and the blood of infidels soaked his sword blade and armor.
The shouts of 501 Poles alarmed Murad II, and the Sultan's Janissaries began to defend.
The crescent banner on the Sultan's imperial carriage was getting closer and closer!
The Polish king and his loyal and powerful heavy cavalry guards cut down all enemies who dared to block them from the heavy encirclement of the Janissaries, carving out a bloody path.
They were like sharp swords, cutting through iron as if it were mud; like long spears, piercing through like a rainbow, heading relentlessly straight for the Sultan's camp!
Getting closer and closer, the guards beside the Sultan drew their sabers and took up their halberds and crescent axes.
Young Władysław III was just one step away from the distinguished Murad II!
Immortal deeds, countless worship and reverence, the praise and eulogies of historians, a future example for all Christian, a Catholic saint, just one step away!
A stray arrow, a long spear, a trap—these three most deadly and common things on the battlefield converged in the tide of history.
And each of them accurately struck the king's mount.
The warhorse painfully collapsed, and the king was violently thrown to the ground.
Just as the young king was about to stand up, he felt his helmet roughly torn off, followed by a chill on his neck, and the strong smell of blood filled his nostrils.
At that moment, he watched his headless body fall limply, blood gushing like a fountain from his chest...
He felt incredible, a strong and irresistible sense of weightlessness came over him, and his lifted head stared wide-eyed at the Polish cavalry fighting, and then he completely lost consciousness.
Władysław III Jagiellon, a life of only twenty years, ended abruptly in Varna, returning to eternal silence.