On that day, the citizens of Mangup felt as if they heard the sounds of military horses moving.
Several farmers in the suburbs curiously discussed it.
"It must be military exercises, after all, there hasn't been a war in years."
"Probably, we just need to mind our own business."
"Indeed, hey, by the way, have you heard? Something seems to have happened in Kaffa. My great-uncle's brother-in-law's son-in-law hasn't come back for some reason."
"It's probably those Ligurians stirring up trouble again. Good thing I live in Mangup."
"Exactly, exactly."
Soon after, in the small village of Privetnoye, the local minor lord, Baron Antonio Tocco, who was enfeoffed by Genoa, was anxiously pacing his room.
"My God, Kaffa has truly rebelled! How dare those heretical rioters!"
As a Baron who relied on this small fief for his livelihood, he knew very well that his fate was closely tied to Genoa's rule there.
If Kaffa truly broke away from Genoa's rule, a lord like him, of a different faith and culture, would certainly be the first to suffer.
If he were just from an obscure minor family, he might try to feign conversion, but he was a member of the renowned Tocco family!
Even if he was just a branch of a branch with little status, he still bore the surname "Tocco."
If he truly feigned conversion, even if he converted back later, he would never be able to move in Italian aristocratic circles again.
"I absolutely cannot let those rioters succeed," he thought, gritting his teeth.
Just then, he suddenly heard good news from his steward: "Report, Your Lordship, a troop claiming to be reinforcements from Genoa is stationed outside our fort.
Their leader specifically asked me to inform Your Lordship."
"Really?" Antonio was overjoyed, but he quickly grew suspicious.
"Reinforcements arrived so quickly? Why does it feel strange?"
He then told the steward, "Don't open the gates yet; first, take me to the castle gate.
I'll confirm it myself."
"Yes, Your Lordship."
When Antonio arrived at the castle gate, he found that the opposing force numbered several hundred, many times his private army, which made him a little nervous.
He then hurried to an upper-level window of the castle.
Antonio observed carefully and found that their clothing was indeed in the Italian style, but their beards and hairstyles were not popular there; they looked more like locals.
Their weapons were also not primarily spears and crossbows, which made him suspicious.
However, the leader had a very aristocratic demeanor, although he was clearly a young man considerably younger than him.
Antonio asked from the window, "Which faction are you from, why have you come, and who is your superior?"
"We are a troop sent by Lord Grimaldi to urgently suppress the rioters.
Because we traveled day and night, we are thirsty and hungry, and hope Your Lordship can make an exception and let us in to rest for a while," the young leader pleaded in fluent Ligurian.
"Then why do you all have the appearance of locals, even though you are dressed as Genoese soldiers?"
"Your Lordship, the situation is urgent, and the active military force is truly insufficient.
Transferring troops from the mainland would take at least a month or more, so His Lordship specifically selected some reliable strong men from the local area to serve in the army.
Many of my soldiers were temporarily recruited locally."
"Leader, aren't you a bit too young?"
"Your Lordship, do you only allow yourself to be a Lord, but not others to be future Lords?" the young man retorted, a bit displeased.
Antonio immediately laughed awkwardly, as he too was underage when he became Baron of Privetnoye.
But to confirm, he finally asked, "May I ask if Your Lordship has any credentials related to you?"
"This is His Lordship's signature," the young man pulled out a paper with Grimaldi's signature from his pocket.
From such a distance, if he could make out the signature, he would have seen Satan.
Antonio only asked this to see if the other party showed any signs of guilt; besides, a minor lord like him had not seen Grimaldi's signature many times.
So, after relaxing, he waved his hand, allowing everyone to enter.
Once everyone was inside, Antonio warmly received their leader, inviting him and his adjutant into the main hall for a detailed discussion—he intended to curry favor with this officer.
Perhaps he was a favorite of His Lordship the Consul; if he contributed to this effort and made this connection, he might even become a Viscount, no, an Earl in the future.
As they chatted and laughed in the hall, Baron Antonio first spoke of his marital life, "Oh dear, my wife just returned to her hometown in Florence a few days ago to care for her ailing father, so I apologize that she could not be here to host Your Lordship."
The other party politely replied, "It's quite alright, quite alright."
At this point, the Baron seemed to hear shouts from outside.
"Oh, what's going on?" Antonio became uneasy.
"Ah, it might be because many of my men are conscripts, so they've acted impolitely.
Don't worry, I will immediately restrain them later," the young leader said, making a move to stand up, but the Baron stopped him.
"It's alright, Your Lordship, this small loss is not important; let us continue our previous conversation."
They then chatted for a while longer.
During this time, the Baron suddenly noticed that his servants seemed to have become inefficient for some reason.
No, he hadn't seen the other servants who were supposed to be in the hall to receive guests.
Finally realizing something was amiss, he remembered a question he had forgotten to ask.
The Baron feigned composure and asked the young leader, "By the way, I've been wanting to know your name since just now.
Could you please tell me?"
The young man narrowed his eyes at this, revealing an inscrutable smile, and said:
"Manuel Gavras."
"That doesn't sound like an Italian name; it sounds more like..." As Antonio pondered anxiously, a squad of soldiers suddenly burst in.
Startled, he finally realized what the problem was.
"That's a Greek name! You are not reinforcements sent by Genoa; who exactly are you?!"
No sooner had he spoken than Manuel's adjutant immediately restrained him, and the steward and servants present were also controlled by the soldiers.
"You, you wouldn't happen to be from the Principality of Theodoro, would you...?" Antonio asked, terrified.
"Correct answer, but rest assured, we will not harm you.
It's just that you should come and stay with us in our Principality for a while.
Oh, and your title might still be retained, but the fiefdom is not really possible," Manuel said, standing up and smiling at the Baron.
"You will regret this! Do you know which family I belong to?!
I am a member of the Tocco family!" Antonio Tocco's face was flushed with anger at this point.
"As you wish.
As for the Tocco family, I remember they are in Epirus, right?
It doesn't matter; sooner or later, they too will fall at my feet," Manuel replied coldly, and no sooner had he finished speaking than the Baron was immediately seized and placed under house arrest, and Privetnoye was completely controlled by the Principality of Theodoro.