1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 224 A Dark and Windy Night for Murder

Greece's ultimatum was like a boulder crashing into the already turbulent political landscape of the Balkans.

The Ottoman Empire's reaction was more intense than anyone had anticipated.

The newspapers of Constantinople, in the most vicious language, launched a lengthy condemnation of Greece's "treachery" and "mad expansionism." They portrayed Greece as an ungrateful Balkan wolf attempting to tear apart the flesh of its former master. The Sultanate government called upon all loyal Muslims to unite "for faith and empire, to resist the evil invasion from the west."

Popular fervor was stirred up. Large-scale anti-Greek demonstrations broke out in Istanbul and Smyrna.

At the Thessalian front, in Ederhem Pasha's command post, this fervor translated into concrete military action.

The veteran general deployed his most elite infantry divisions to the plains surrounding Larissa. Countless trenches were dug overnight, barbed wire was spread out like a spider web, and newly arrived Krupp field guns were carefully placed in camouflaged artillery positions.

Edheimpasha was convinced that the Greeks' main attack would be directed here.

The terrain here is flat, making it the perfect location for armored forces... no, for infantry and cavalry to deploy. Once they break through here, they can head straight for the southward supply lines. He believed that the young Greek crown prince, who had studied in Germany, would choose this most "German" approach—a straightforward, frontal assault.

To ensure absolute certainty, he also dispatched a large number of scout cavalry to patrol the border day and night, trying to ascertain the exact location of the main Greek army.

However, after a few days, the news brought back by the scouts made him even more convinced of his judgment.

"Reporting to Pasha, we have detected signs of a large-scale Greek military buildup east of Kalambaka!"

"Pasha! The vanguard of the Greeks has crossed the border and is constructing forward positions!"

All intelligence pointed to one fact: the main force of the Greeks was surging toward the Thessalian plain like a tide.

A head-on showdown is about to begin.

Edhem Pasha stood before the map, stroking his graying beard, a cruel smile on his face. He had prepared a large net, just waiting for the Greeks to walk right into it.

Athens, Royal Palace, Royal Intelligence Directorate Office.

Alexandros pushed open the door and walked straight up to Constantine, who was reading documents.

"Your Highness, the fish has taken the bait."

Constantine didn't look up; he simply turned a page of the document. "Speak."

"Edheim Pasha believed all the false information we spread. He concentrated more than 70% of his forces on the Thessaly front. In addition, our 'lost' mobilization plan also came into play."

Alexandros placed a document on Constantine's desk.

"This is a secret telegram we just intercepted and deciphered, sent by the Ottoman German military advisory group to the General Staff in Berlin."

Constantine then put down the documents in his hand and picked up the thin, rough-textured telegram.

The telegram was written in German, and the numbers and letters on it were clearly visible in the dim light.

The translation is attached beside the text.

[...The Greeks have mobilized on an unprecedented scale, their intention clearly being to engage in a decisive battle on the Thessaly front. Ederhem Pasha has taken countermeasures, but his tactical deployments are outdated and rigid. Our unit suggests reserving a mobile force on their flank, in the Pindus Mountains, as a precaution. However, this suggestion was rejected by Pasha on the grounds that 'large-scale troop deployments are not feasible in the mountains'...]

After reading the translation, Constantine tapped his long, slender fingers lightly on the table.

Once, twice, three times.

The only sound in the office was the rhythmic tapping.

German advisor.

This was the biggest variable in his plan. These Prussian officers, trained in modern military tactics, were far more difficult to deal with than the rigid Ottoman generals. They might not be able to dictate the course of the war, but their presence would be like sand, seeping into his sophisticated war machine and causing unexpected trouble.

But now, this biggest variable has become the final piece of the puzzle for his plan to succeed.

The German advisors' skepticism and Edheim Pasha's stubbornness created a perfect contradiction. This contradiction bought his surprise attack the most precious time and space.

"Very good." Constantine raised his head, his eyes sharp, looking directly at Alexandros.

"Order all field agents of the Main Intelligence Directorate to increase the frequency of their activities in the Thessaly front. They can deliberately expose a few intelligence stations, or even send people to sabotage the railway. In short, create chaos and keep Edheim Pasha and those German advisors' eyes firmly fixed there."

His voice was low, yet it carried an undeniable decisiveness.

"Our surprise attack must be more like ghosts. No one can detect their presence before they bare their fangs."

"Yes, Your Highness." Alexandros bowed and then quietly withdrew from the office, like a true shadow.

Constantine stood up and walked to the huge military map.

His gaze passed over the Thessalian plain marked by countless red arrows and landed on the dark green region to the northwest, representing towering mountains.

Pindus Mountains.

In ancient Greek mythology, this was the abode of the Muses.

But soon, this place will become a graveyard for Ottoman soldiers.

His finger touched heavily on an inconspicuous path in the mountains.

There, a ghostly force had been lying in wait for three days and three nights.

The night was as dark as ink on the northwestern border of Greece.

Thick, dark clouds obscured the stars and moon, plunging the world into darkness. The mountain wind howled through the pine forest like a ghostly wail.

A small team of about two hundred people, like geckos, clung to the rugged mountain path, advancing silently.

They wore specially made combat uniforms that resembled the color of the rocks, their faces were painted with black greasepaint, and each person carried only a short-barreled carbine, an entrenching tool, and enough dry rations to last three days.

Their movements were as light as a raccoon's. Their feet trod on withered branches and pebbles, yet they made not a sound.

This team was handpicked by Metaxus from the entire army, selected from the most elite mountain warriors. Each of them was a born hunter, capable of surviving like a wolf in the mountains.

At the very front of the line, a second lieutenant raised his hand and made a gesture.

The entire group stopped instantly, and everyone immediately crouched down, blending into the surrounding rocks and bushes.

The lieutenant took out his monoculars and looked down into the valley.

In the valley stood an Ottoman border post. On the watchtower, a lantern flickered in the wind, casting a dim, yellowish light. Two Ottoman soldiers leaned against the wall, dozing.

The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and a faint aroma of roasted mutton wafting from the outpost.

The lieutenant lowered his binoculars, his face turning cold.

He drew the dagger from his waist, its blade flashing a barely perceptible glint of cold light in the darkness.