I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

정해진 결말(2)

As Yusuf began to devise plans for survival, one of the most critical variables he considered was the great earthquake of 1509.

No matter how much you influence history, you cannot change a predetermined natural disaster.

Moreover, the impending earthquake was not just any catastrophe.

“If I could ascend to the Sultan’s position without any hindrance, I would have refused if it were before the earthquake.”

In an era without designs to prevent vibrations, an earthquake exceeding a magnitude of 7 would be a tremendous calamity, with damage extending beyond the capital.

It inflicted severe harm on many cities, including Edirne, the former capital located 200 km west of Constantinople, and even Egypt across the Mediterranean felt its tremors.

Like the people of this era, they viewed the reason for this catastrophe as divine wrath, and the West claimed it was God’s punishment for the armed Ottomans, while Bayezid was accused by religious leaders of causing the misfortune.

“It’s a good thing to be hastily seated on the Sultan’s throne before the earthquake, or I’d be promptly pinpointed as the cause of the calamity.”

Just like Selim’s future about to unfold.

When Yusuf mentioned the disaster, the commanders wore puzzled expressions.

No matter how much they trusted Yusuf, believing in a ruler’s ability is certainly different from believing in prophecy.

“Is it true that a disaster will befall the capital?”

“Yes, the repercussions will not end at the capital; it will persist for a long time.”

Aftershocks from the earthquake would continue for several years.

Among them, there would be significant aftershocks striking cities that were in the midst of recovery.

Everyone hesitated to voice their thoughts at Yusuf’s declaration, but the most senior Grand Vizier stepped forth first.

“Your Highness, please forgive our inability to easily believe.”

“It’s alright. It’s natural for you to find it hard to believe.”

It was still a time when a young Nostradamus had yet to begin his studies, and those learning that Muhammad was the final prophet would hardly accept prophecies easily.

Were he not a prince, he would have been hanged from a gibbeting post as a heretic.

“No, if it weren’t just those following me, it would have been dangerous even as a prince.”

An Islamic leader could be replaced at the Sultan’s whim, so his life might be spared, but politically, it could lead to his downfall.

This was the reason they couldn’t decide how to proceed even with the foreknowledge of the calamity.

Because they couldn’t play the role of a prophet to prevent earthquake damage.

“So, being able to pin the blame of the disaster on Selim was very fortunate.”

The catastrophic event of the earthquake would spread tales that the Ottomans were being punished, diminishing the Padishah’s authority.

One reason for the rise of Shia factions like the Safavid in Anatolia was also due to this.

If they limit the blame for the divine wrath to Selim and prophesy the disaster, it could rather turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

“So, when do you believe the disaster will occur?”

“Well, I’m not sure.”

It was such a significant event that he had experienced numerous times even within the game and knew it would strike on September 10, 1509.

However, he avoided affirming a specific date. Even a day or two’s difference could render all the plans he’d built so far meaningless.

“All I know is that it’s not far off. It will likely happen within a fortnight.”

At Yusuf’s assertion, the Grand Vizier stroked his long beard in contemplation.

Though he was aware that Yusuf had predicted victory in the war with Venice and the rise of the Safavid before becoming a Sanjakbey, prophesying a disaster was an entirely different matter.

The Grand Vizier, contemplating whether to believe or not, made up his mind.

“I will act as your Highness wishes, but you must remember that everything hinges on this statement. Are you truly certain the calamity will come?”

If Yusuf’s words turned out to be mere delusion rather than prophecy, he would lose the immense trust he had painstakingly built.

It would be a far worse situation than following Şemsi’s advice to return to Anatolia and prepare for a civil war, perhaps it would be better to meekly offer his neck to Selim.

The Grand Vizier was giving him one last chance. Just an opportunity to brush it off as a slip of the tongue.

Yet, Yusuf smiled under the mounting pressure.

“Thank you for the advice. However, there’s no need to worry. The disaster will definitely occur.”

“I understand. If you are that certain, command us. We shall follow.”

As the Grand Vizier knelt first to show his respect, the other commanders also knelt in unison.

Yusuf looked down slowly at the dozens of kneeling commanders.

Was it due to charm? Or perhaps thanks to the achievements he’d amassed up to now?

He could not pinpoint the reason, but he well understood how difficult it was to obey such unbelievable orders.

There was only one thing Yusuf had to do in response to their heavy trust.

“I shall not betray your faith.”

Only rewarding their trust.

Having prevented the greatest element of uncertainty—the division before the earthquake—Yusuf made his decision.

“I’ve gained their belief; I can now raise the stakes.”

Had they disbelieved that a great calamity was coming and the army split, they wouldn’t have been able to act actively, but now there was nothing to hold back.

“Şemsi Pasha.”

“Command me.”

“Spread the word through informants and messengers that a great earthquake will happen within a fortnight as widely as possible.”

“Understood.”

To inform as widely as possible, he had to move immediately, and Şemsi turned to act on the command.

Yusuf turned his gaze to the Grand Vizier.

“Grand Vizier, you must issue evacuation advisories to the cities around Constantinople.”

“How far should we extend the warning?”

“To the west as far as Chorlu and Edirne. To the east, we must send messengers as far as Izmit.”

“That far?”

“Actually, even that might not be enough.”

The effects of the earthquake would extend far wider than this. However, the evacuation notice was honestly of little significance.

Yusuf scoffed.

“Do you really think people will heed our evacuation advisories?”

“…They probably won’t.”

If Yusuf were seated on the Sultan’s throne, they might at least pretend to listen, but Selim had already established his presence in the capital.

It was all too clear that people would perceive Yusuf’s measures as mere last-ditch attempts.

“It’s unfortunate, but if we cannot reduce the damage, the best we can do is make the most of the current situation.”

Yusuf gazed at the clear sky despite the impending disaster.

“I wonder how history will record this.”

Will they see him as a prophet like Nostradamus, or as someone spreading rumors to pacify the populace after the earthquake?

“Or perhaps they might simply regard him as a fortunate man.”

Either way, it didn’t matter.

The great calamity would make him the master of the empire.

*

Selim gazed down at the Divan meeting conducted by the Grand Vizier, the Minister of Finance, and the Military Judge.

Only the master of the empire held the privilege to look down upon the Divan meeting, and though he achieved the desired position, Selim’s expression grew stern.

“Yakup Aga.”

The commander of the Janissaries, who played a key role in betraying Bayezid and seizing the capital, bowed in respect.

His expression was grim as he anticipated what words would leave Yakup’s lips.

“Why have your soldiers not returned?”

“My apologies.”

The troops borrowed from the Crimean Khanate still lingered in the capital, yet they weren’t his own soldiers.

Understanding how critical the role of the central army was in maintaining power, Selim simmered with frustration at the delay in returning soldiers.

The only solution, Bayezid, had been usurped from the Padishah throne and was now holed up in his bedroom.

“If it weren’t for Yusuf, I would have dealt with him long ago.”

Having ascended to the Padishah position, Bayezid was now utterly useless.

Though he wished to eliminate him to mitigate variables, he couldn’t hastily dispose of him considering Bayezid was his father and a former Padishah.

To reduce suspicion, he would need to send him off to another city and assassinate him discreetly, but sending his father out of the capital might lead him into Yusuf’s hands.

“This is all so annoying.”

The central army that set out to quell the rebellion followed Yusuf and became rebels themselves, leaving Selim with mostly other people’s soldiers in hand.

He couldn’t kill the bothersome father, and the Grand Vizier stood firmly with Yusuf.

This was not the only thing gnawing at Selim’s mind.

“Have those spreading rumors been captured?”

“…We have apprehended some, but since they are utilizing the back alleys, it’s not easy to catch the instigators.”

“Instigators. Isn’t the instigator obvious?”

Who else but Yusuf would spread the absurd rumors that a calamity was approaching because of him?

It was laughable that his only rival fell into delusions from the shock of defeat.

Selim grimaced.

“Do Yusuf’s forces not plan to return to Anatolia yet?”

“That is correct.”

“Such foolishness.”

The call-up order had already been issued, and tens of thousands of Sipahi would soon gather under the Padishah’s command.

As time passed, the advantage lay with him, yet Yusuf was foolishly wasting time.

As Selim sneered at Yusuf, he rose from his seat and left the Divan meeting hall.

Since Selim became the master of the empire, the Divan meetings extended late into the night, and the sky had long since turned black.

Torches brightly illuminated the path of the Padishah, while Janissaries swore allegiance to the new master, brandishing their sharp blades and standing at tight vigilance.

As Selim passed through the Second Inner Courtyard where the Divan meeting hall was located, he reached the door leading to the Third Inner Courtyard.

The Gate of Fortune allowed only the sovereign and close aides to pass, and it was here that the grand enthronement ceremony had recently taken place.

As Selim stepped onto the door, recalling the moment he had awaited for so long—

-Kughgughhuu!

“An earthquake!”

“Protect the Padishah!”

The ground shook, and buildings cried in protest.

As the earth shook to the point it was hard to maintain balance, Selim staggered.

Quickly, the Janissaries supported Selim, and as he barely regained his composure and looked up, he saw.

The glorious capital collapsing in tragedy.

Kuuung!

-Kyaaaah!

Buildings unable to withstand the tremors collapsed like dominoes, raising clouds of dust like fog, and the capital was engulfed by screams, wails, and cries.

The breath of disaster spread across the capital, surpassing even the most vulnerable homes.

“Oh, Allah!”

Mosques conveying the will of the divine began to falter, and in the grand Fatih Mosque, the Imam calling upon God despaired.

The four large columns supporting the mosque were collapsing.

The last thing he saw was the stark moonlight shining through the gaping, shattered dome.

“It is the moment of judgment! The day of reckoning has come!”

“O Allah! Please save us!”

As those sitting on the ground fervently prayed above them, a massive spire from Hagia Sophia Mosque came crashing down.

The spires built with hope of reaching the heavens plummeted to the ground, claiming the lives of countless people.

Moreover, the hand of calamity did not discriminate based on status.

“Kyaaaah! My leg! Please save me!”

A woman who had recently received the title Gözde, meaning ‘beloved,’ while being embraced by Selim met her slow demise with both legs crushed.

The horrifying sight of an impending end etched itself into Selim’s eyes and ears.

Overwhelming despair wrapped around him, and as he wished it could be but a nightmare, the Janissaries’ cries penetrated his thoughts.

“A tsunami!”

As Selim stared blankly at the tsunami over 6 meters high sweeping through the capital, he screamed with a face akin to a demon.

“Yusuf!!!!”

*

“An earthquake!”

“The tents are collapsing! Quick, save them!”

Panic erupted in the camp, and the entrance to the tent swung open violently.

“Your Highness, it’s an earthquake!”

At Şemsi’s excited declaration, Yusuf slowly opened his eyes.

“Yes, the time has come.”

It was time to become the master of the empire.