Night fell, and the noisy battlefield finally fell silent.
Mehmed II led his remaining forty thousand tattered troops to retreat calmly under the cover of the Janissaries, and Janos ultimately failed to defeat this terrifying legion.
The Crusade, having also suffered heavy losses, was busy licking its wounds and was unable to pursue, only allowing the Ottomans to depart.
In this battle, the Crusade paid the huge price of nearly forty thousand casualties, annihilating over forty thousand Ottoman troops, with many Ottoman soldiers scattering and fleeing the battlefield.
The Hungarian alone suffered over ten thousand casualties; it was the Hungarian who exchanged their blood and courage for the victory of this bloody battle.
Besides the Hungarian, the Burgundy army's casualties ranked second. Philip was pained by this, but when he thought that they had defeated the Ottomans, he felt these sacrifices were worth it—after all, most of the dead were mercenaries, and there were countless mercenary groups on the continent.
The tents were filled with wounded soldiers awaiting aid; those with less severe injuries, after simple bandaging, still had a good chance of recovery.
Those with severe injuries might have to experience the medieval specialty of bloodletting therapy.
Even though these surgeons already knew how to remove arrows, stop bleeding, and even amputate, they stubbornly clung to the abstract bloodletting therapy, which Laszlo could not understand.
Although they had not yet fully grasped the principle of sterilization, some doctors had already begun to realize that using heated medical instruments could prevent the patient's condition from deteriorating further.
After treatment by professional military doctors, the survival rate of the wounded significantly increased; however, after using bloodletting therapy, whether the wounded could survive became a completely random event, and even a small injury could take a soldier's life.
Laszlo immediately strictly forbade this practice after discovering this phenomenon, which prevented some weak, severely wounded soldiers from dying at the hands of their own military doctors.
In a special tent, Laszlo stared intently at Janos lying on the bedding, with Laszlo Hunyadi beside him.
The military doctor beside him regretfully said, "Your Majesty, General Janos's injuries are too severe and were not treated in time. Unless God performs a miracle..."
Janos was struck in the back by a heavy hammer from a Sultan's bodyguard during the battle. He then endured and continued fighting for a long time until the Janissaries received orders to withdraw from the battle, at which point he was carried back to camp on a stretcher.
Such injuries in this era were basically beyond the possibility of treatment, and the shadow of death loomed like a ghost, ready to devour Janos at any moment.
"Alright, you may leave." Laszlo waved his hand impatiently, and the doctor, as if pardoned, quickly walked out of the tent.
Laszlo knelt beside Janos with a dejected expression; this was the first time he had shown such genuine and profound sadness.
Unlike his usual feigned pretense, this time his heart was occupied by an unprecedented sorrow.
He had always harbored an almost arrogant mindset.
In his eyes, knowing the course of history and possessing a golden finger panel, he felt as if he were superior to everyone else in this world.
Driven by this notion, he approached everything with a playful attitude, always feeling that he could easily control everyone's fate, and that everything happening here was merely an adventure he arbitrarily manipulated.
However, at this moment, looking at the dying Janos, he finally awoke as if from a dream.
He suddenly realized that he was terribly wrong.
Those connections he once considered dispensable, those bonds, deep or shallow, he had formed with others, were now impacting his heart with a strength he had never anticipated.
He was no longer an uninvolved bystander, no longer the outsider who thought he could control everything.
Through these connections and ties, he gradually found himself involuntarily integrating into this world, into this era.
He began to understand that this was not a game that could be manipulated at will, not a virtual adventure that could be paused with a spacebar at any time, but a profoundly real life.
The people beside him were not so-called "NPCs," but flesh-and-blood human beings.
Every person, every emotion, every experience, was so precious and irreplaceable.
His heart, in the face of the sorrowful reality, began a true transformation.
"Your Majesty... cough cough..." Janos's weak voice interrupted Laszlo's chaotic thoughts.
"Janos, you..." Laszlo tightly held his hand, his voice somewhat choked.
His time with Janos was not very long, but the help he provided was immeasurable.
As the trusted minister entrusted to Laszlo by Albrecht II, he was diligent and responsible, whether governing the Kingdom of Hungary or fighting the Ottomans on the battlefield, he admirably fulfilled his mission.
The victory of this war was also personally achieved by him for Laszlo.
Loyalty, righteousness, bravery, and many other shining qualities converged in Janos. Laszlo held him in immense respect and reliance.
Janos taught Laszlo many things and helped him with many tasks.
The renowned White Knight was also a notorious executioner; he willingly served as the monarch's white glove, personally intervening in Wallachia and Moldavia, establishing Hungarian rule in Serbia, and secretly executing the royal family of Bosnia. He had done many dark and cruel deeds, all at the monarch's command, but the infamy fell upon him.
Now that Janos's life was like a flickering candle in the wind, where could Laszlo find such a loyal and capable minister?
"Your Majesty, there's no need... no need to grieve for me. My mission is complete. The path ahead must be forged by you yourself..."
Laszlo nodded silently, then stepped aside, leaving the last moments for Laszlo Hunyadi to bid farewell to his father.
Standing nearby, Laszlo listened silently to the father and son's final goodbyes.
He thought of many things, of Matthias far away in Vienna. How should he break this news to Matthias?
He also thought of the Ottomans. Would they be overjoyed upon hearing this news?
No, they would not have that chance. The Crusade would surely achieve ultimate victory.
After a few minutes, Janos's breathing grew weaker and weaker. His eyes slowly closed, losing their vitality.
Laszlo painfully closed his eyes, suppressing the sorrow and regret in his heart. He was helpless, only able to watch Janos depart.
News of the victory at Varna quickly spread back home, then across Europe, and such a great victory filled people with joy.
Pope Callixtus III, as the initiator of the Crusade, was extremely pleased and excited by this historic victory. He immediately announced that March 1st, the day of the battle, would be designated as the Feast of the Transfiguration. Janos, who made significant contributions to this battle and unfortunately sacrificed his life, was granted the title of "Most Valiant Defender of Christendom" and the title of Blessed, and his descendants would be blessed.
Laszlo scoffed at these posthumous empty titles, but it was also a means of winning people's hearts.
This Pope was quite sensible, knowing to offer some psychological comfort.
Laszlo ordered bronze statues of Janos to be erected in Budapest, Belgrade, and Varna to commemorate this great anti-Ottomans hero.
However, the tens of thousands of fallen soldiers... they would forever remain in this distant eastern land, and those waiting for their return would only receive heartbreaking news.
Laszlo quickly cast aside the sorrow in his heart. He was never a sentimental person; it was merely Janos's heroic end that deeply shook him. As for others, he would feel sad for them, but only a little.
Now, it was time to capitalize on this victory and continue expanding the gains until the Ottomans were completely expelled!
On the third day after the battle, the Varna garrison surrendered, and the Crusade rested there for five days, burying fallen comrades and tending to the wounded.
The shores of Lake Varna were covered with various crosses, commemorating the brave warriors who fell there.
Subsequently, the army marched south along the coast, encountering almost no strong resistance along the way.
As the provisions gathered before the war were almost exhausted, the Crusade plundered extensively wherever they went to replenish their supplies. Laszlo heard that Adrianople (Edirne) stored a good amount of supplies and treasures, so he dispatched Szilágyi with ten thousand troops and Vlad with three thousand troops to capture that city and plunder enough resources to support the subsequent siege of Constantinople.
The remaining troops continued south along the coast.
Finally, after more than half a month, they reached the objective of this holy war—the ancient millennium capital, Constantinople.
When the outline of Constantinople gradually became clear before their eyes, everyone held their breath.
This city had fallen over a year ago, and the last emperor of the East Roman Empire, Constantine XI, also disappeared during the defense of Constantinople.
Many believed he had not died and would eventually return, but this was merely their beautiful fantasy.
After continuous repairs by the Ottomans, the city walls were largely intact, but some shocking gaps that remained were still prominent, reminding people of the suffering the city had endured.
Traces of repair were clearly visible on the city walls, where newly patched bricks and stones contrasted sharply in color and texture with the original wall structure.
On the city walls, Ottoman soldiers were densely lined up, their eyes filled with vigilance and resolve.
The crescent flag of the Ottoman Empire flew high above the city, proclaiming their determination to hold out.
The tightly shut city gates were tall and imposing, and traces of past attacks could still be seen on them.
Constantinople was like a sleeping giant, exuding coldness and majesty under the control of the Ottomans, awaiting the Crusade's attack.