I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The power difference between Yusuf’s army rampaging through Safavid lands and the Qizilbash led by Ismail was distinctly noticeable.

Having no intention of laying siege, he offloaded the cumbersome Urban cannons onto Semsi, but even the cannons alone mounted to three hundred.

On top of that, with forty thousand Sipahi and Janissaries armed with guns, they had enough strength to wage conquest wars as long as supply issues were non-existent.

However, it was not advisable to dismiss the Qizilbash, who lurked like hyenas, and tensions escalated into a battle of spear and shield.

“Be better prepared for ambushes!”

“Stay focused!”

For Ismail, the Ottoman gunpowder weapons were frightening, but the loss of the personal Qizilbash soldiers was a condition he couldn’t afford.

The Safavid had been established for less than a decade and was always at risk of rebellion, with the notorious Qizilbash serving as a deterrent against those revolts.

Already troubled by the loss of ten thousand Qizilbash in Trabzon, he couldn’t afford to lose more.

Yusuf was well aware of this fact; ultimately, Ismail understood that ambushes would be his only real play.

‘And if we prepare thoroughly for the ambush, there’s no way we can’t fend it off.’

Causing significant damage to the Ottomans with an ambush or burning their supplies was Ismail’s only remaining option.

Knowing that the enemy was aiming for an ambush didn’t mean that Yusuf and the Ottoman troops were clumsy enough to fall for it.

An ambush poses a considerable risk of backfiring, so Ismail dared not attack the thoroughly prepared Ottoman troops.

“It’s quite pathetic to be holed up in Tabriz.”

Yusuf scoffed at the distant view of the Qizilbash.

He was currently on his way to Diyarbakır, where he had abducted Tazlu, detouring around the enormous saltwater bay called Koi that blocked the road to Tabriz.

So far, all the Qizilbash had done was follow along aimlessly, kicking their feet in frustration.

Arda agreed with Yusuf’s assessment but cautiously offered his thoughts.

“Just avoiding reckless actions out of impatience is quite commendable.”

“Had they not done even that, they wouldn’t have survived this long. It’s only natural.”

Ismail was a master strategist, adept at knowing when to attack and when to withdraw.

In the historical battle that had sent him spiraling into ruin, the defeat at Chaldiran was told to have been catastrophic, yet the losses were only about five thousand.

Given that the victorious Ottoman forces suffered two thousand in losses, it could hardly be called severe; it wasn’t an exaggeration to say he knew how to retreat.

“But would my townsfolk care to recognize this if they’re starving with their villages turned to ashes?”

Yusuf had no intention of letting that happen.

*

The Ottoman army ravaged the Safavid lands to a shocking degree.

In areas already devastated by Yusuf’s previous raids, Ismail’s orders to refrain from further scorched earth tactics weren’t heeded.

However, Yusuf, having no reason to hold back, set fire to everything in sight.

Ismail, unable to endure any longer, attempted several ambushes but failed consistently due to being forewarned each time.

“Shah Ismail.”

As Ismail watched Yusuf’s army enter Ottoman territory past Erzinjan, his eyes burned with anger.

The face of Ismail, once revered like a god, twisted like a devil rising from Hell, emanating an aura that even the loyal Qizilbash found terrifying.

“…Muhammad, what’s the extent of the damage?”

“To restore the northwestern lands of the kingdom, it will likely require at least three years. Especially in the areas devastated recently, it’s hard to gauge the restoration time.”

Upon Muhammad’s report, Ismail coldly concluded.

“We will abandon recovery in regions bordering the Ottomans.”

At Ismail’s words, those who followed him widened their eyes.

It was an unexpected conclusion, and already the implications of the resulting refugees and deteriorating public sentiment swirled through their minds.

“Is there any reason to be surprised? They’ll invade us again anyway, so there’s no point in making a difficult recovery.”

At first glance, it seemed a rational choice, but it came with many issues to overcome.

One, Ismail couldn’t have been unaware of this, and as the Shah, he had to follow orders.

“And send an envoy to the Mamluk Sultan, Ashraf Khan Sup Ghauri.”

“Shah Ismail, I regret to inform you but have we not already been rejected once?”

The Mamluks took a pragmatic stance towards the Ottomans.

They balanced against the expanding Ottomans while keeping the Western fleets in check, cooperating closely in trade.

The rejection of the proposal to bring down the Ottomans was understandable, but Ismail, filled with venom, spoke with an aura of threat.

“Let them know. If they do not assist us, we will cede our western territories to the Ottomans.”

“Shah Ismail?!”

Everyone was taken aback by Ismail’s declaration.

Of course, it didn’t literally mean he would cede territory but effectively conveyed a message of non-resistance.

“Tabriz could be in danger if we’re not careful.”

“If needed, I am prepared to relocate our capital.”

This statement revealed how serious Ismail took the situation and just how much it shook his mindset.

Fortunately, it wasn’t the hopelessness of defeat that prompted Ismail’s words.

“Ultimately, they cannot completely conquer our Shia kingdom.”

Even if they lost the west, there was still plenty left, and to completely subjugate the Safavid would require extending their supply lines considerably.

If Yusuf’s greed led him to advance, Ismail believed he could avenge today’s humiliation.

Ultimately, what mattered was that if the Ottomans captured the Safavid west, they would likely target the Mamluks next.

The path to the Mamluks would become wide open, something the Sultan of the Mamluks must be aware of.

“In the end, to survive, the Mamluks will have no choice but to unite with us.”

“…I will ensure the Shah’s resolve is conveyed to the Mamluk Sultan clearly.”

“Even if it’s disgusting, I don’t mind seeking help from those pig-like Venetians. We must involve the Mamluks at any cost.”

“I will see to it.”

Muhammad received the orders with a heavy face, instructed to invoke the very support of the Venetians who had betrayed their promise in creating this situation.

Self-made individuals typically have a strong sense of pride, and Ismail, who founded his kingdom at such a young age, was no exception.

Having shown immense patience by sparing the life of the Venetian envoy, he now learned to suppress his pride and focus on pragmatism.

“Let’s go, we need to prepare for a confrontation with the Ottomans.”

This marked the moment when Ismail finally shattered the shell of arrogance.

*

Although Yusuf had only been stirring up trouble in the Safavid realm for a month, the constant need for ambush preparation had taken a severe toll on his troops.

The soldiers reached a state where, though they hadn’t engaged in proper battles, they looked as disheveled as beaten bands when they finally made it near Trabzon.

Still, this hardship wasn’t meaningless, as they inflicted untold damage on the Safavid, yielding Yusuf tremendous notoriety.

On the other hand, Ismail’s authority began to suffer, and a sense of unease began to circulate in the damaged regions.

“From here on, it will depend on Hasan’s handling, wouldn’t you agree?”

“He is an individual chosen by the Padishah; he will not disappoint.”

“Of course, he must.”

From their conversation, it became clear that Hasan’s talents leaned more toward incitement and fabrication than mere intelligence gathering.

Now that the stage had been set, Hasan, brimming with a thirst for vengeance, would surely rise to the occasion.

Following the Georgian conquest, Yusuf had dealt a severe blow to the Safavid without so much as a single battle and now set foot in the nearly restored Trabzon Citadel, where he was met with an immense crowd.

There were no raucous cheers, only throngs full of reverence for the Padishah.

Tens of thousands of people gathered at the Trabzon Citadel to meet the Padishah, who had achieved great victory, kneeling in reverence without daring to breathe too heavily.

The sacred atmosphere flowing, akin to welcoming a deity, was enough to stir emotions long dulled by experience, and Yusuf clenched the reins tightly.

‘Was this the scene I hoped to see?’

After becoming a Sultan, he had adopted the system’s goal as a new ambition, but compared to the struggle to survive as a Sultan, it felt merely like a bucket list.

Perhaps if he had fervently wished to cross over into the modern era through the reward of a choice laid before him, he would have yearned more desperately.

However, having already committed to living as the Sultan of the Ottomans, such a reward felt meaningless, merely a goal he could abandon at any time.

The current scene drew forth feelings that had secretly nestled within Yusuf as he moved along the inertia of a Sultan’s life.

“Arda, it seems I truly love this Empire.”

“Padishah?”

“This is rather peculiar.”

Whether life as Yusuf brought happiness was another matter entirely.

He had struggled with the fear of being killed by his brothers at any moment, repeatedly edging past life-threatening situations.

Though tossed into irrational circumstances, he often muttered phrases like ‘my Empire,’ yet he felt no such affection.

No, he thought he didn’t.

“At the very least, I hope my subjects can live a peaceful life.”

It may have seemed selfish, but he didn’t possess the overflowing humanity to strive for the happiness of mankind, nor did he have the ability to do so.

Rather, he pondered if he could ensure a better life for those he held dear.

“I wish they wouldn’t starve or live in fear of enemy attacks.”

This was likely the life most people of this era dreamed of.

In a time when such humble wishes were difficult to fulfill, a desire began to grow within him to create such a country.

“Everything will be accomplished according to the Padishah’s will.”

“Indeed, it must be done according to my will.”

The more he contemplated, the clearer it became that this was an extraordinarily challenging goal.

He needed to inspire enough fear so that none would dare turn the Empire into an enemy and overhaul many aspects of the Empire.

Facing intimidating figures like Ismail or monsters like Charles V, who would inherit a vast empire soon, might actually be the easier challenge.

Yet, despite that, there remained an irresistible urge within him to take on the challenge.

“I meet the Padishah who has achieved great victory.”

“Aah! Father!”

Aishe and Hatice knelt as they welcomed Yusuf, while Hasan, who had seen him many times, waved his hands in excitement.

As Yusuf cradled the chubby-cheeked Hasna, he spoke to his two women.

“Let’s return to Constantinople. We have much work ahead.”

Feeling her green eyes bloom once more with brightness reminiscent of her childhood, Aishe felt her heart race as she watched.

Though she was delighted by Yusuf’s change more than the fact that she would step into the Empire’s center as a concubine, she responded with a bright face.

“I understand. I will prepare for departure.”

Now newly awakened to desire, Yusuf heralded the turbulent tide of the Empire.