I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The Inevitable End (3)

Right before the great earthquake, Yusuf swiftly withdrew his army.

This was not going to be just a simple quake that would collapse tents and scare horses into frenzy; it was a massive earthquake that would split the ground and bring tsunamis.

Staying close to the epicenter could result in significant losses, and he would become the most foolish seer to have predicted the tremors only to suffer great damage.

‘A perfect example of how even a fortune teller can’t foresee their own fate.’

Of course, if he were only worried about damage, he wouldn’t have needed to march for over ten days as infantry.

The reason for coming this far was to cut off Selim’s last chance.

Even if the source of calamity, Selim, managed to calm the chaos in the capital, he could never be recognized as a Padishah.

‘Soon, he’ll become infamous, as notorious as Satan himself. Who would support him then?’

Selim’s only remaining opportunity was to kill all the claimants, including Yusuf.

If he murdered all claimants and passed the Padishah throne to Suleiman, he could manipulate the empire from behind the scenes.

Being near Selim, who only needed to behead the last remaining brother, could lead to disastrous consequences.

“No need to recklessly fight an opponent who’s already poisoned with rage.”

No matter how powerful gunpowder weapons may be, victory was never guaranteed.

Leading an untrained infantry, comprised mostly of amateurs, into battle against the battle-hardened 30,000 cavalry of the Crimean Khanate would be like sticking one’s head into a tiger’s mouth.

Of course, it wouldn’t be an easy defeat, but time was on his side, so there was no need to rush.

As Yusuf led his troops slowly toward the capital, Arda spoke up.

“Report from the scouts: a cavalry unit of ten thousand Sipahi is approaching.”

“Understood. Prepare to receive our guests.”

It had only been a day since the earthquake.

The gathering of a Sipahi unit of that size meant that Selim had summoned forces to capture him, yet Yusuf merely smiled leisurely.

After a few dozen minutes, the earth shook once more as the Sipahi army approached, slowing their advance.

They were the typical Rumelian Sipahi, armed with shiny chain mail, long lances, and spears glinting in the sunlight, and one man on horseback approached Yusuf.

“I have come to greet the great Prince Yusuf.”

Descending from his horse and kneeling with utmost respect, the middle-aged man looked up at Yusuf and spoke.

“I am Seriya Pasha, the Sanjakbey of Sofia. I have come to serve you on behalf of Mesih Pasha, the Beylerbey of Rumelia.”

Just as in the Anatolia Eyalet where there was a Beylerbey named Karaoglu, there was one in the Rumelia Eyalet too.

That was Mesih Pasha, who had served as the Beylerbey of Rumelia for nearly thirty years.

Considering that most predecessors hadn’t lasted even ten years, he was quite a remarkable individual; however, Yusuf scoffed.

“Why did he send only you instead of coming himself? The one who has been gathering forces to behead me? Ah, aren’t you similar?”

Though it was due to Selim’s order as Padishah, it was still true that the forces had been gathered to oppose Yusuf.

Had the earthquake occurred just a month later, the troops would have undoubtedly drawn their swords against Yusuf, and this responsibility could never be avoided.

Under the weight of pressure, Seriya bent his head nearly to the ground.

“It’s fine. Killing you wouldn’t serve any purpose anyway.”

“…Thank you for your mercy.”

“Get up. Besides, Mesih Pasha must be too busy dealing with the aftermath in Edirne.”

Currently, Edirne was the leading city of the Rumelia Eyalet, and it had suffered significant damage from the earthquake.

“Mesih Pasha intended to meet with you, but the disaster has been too severe.”

“I wish he had taken the warnings more seriously.”

Yusuf lightly clicked his tongue and then addressed Şemsi.

“Şemsi Pasha, send a messenger to Edirne.”

“Understood.”

“Tell him that in one month and fifteen days, another calamity will strike. If he disappoints me again, I will take his head.”

“I shall convey that message.”

Seriya, who overheard this command, wore a confused expression.

‘What if he predicts another disaster this time?’

In Islam, it was said that after Muhammad, there would be no new prophets until the Day of Judgment.

Thus, Seriya, who had witnessed Yusuf’s prophecy firsthand, felt bewildered. It directly contradicted Islamic doctrine.

Sensing the many questions in Seriya’s eyes, Yusuf merely ignored them.

‘This is something I’ll need to clarify later, but it’s not something to sort out right now.’

First, he needed to reclaim his rightful position.

“Seriya Pasha, I have a command for you.”

“Speak, my prince.”

“Send messengers to the gathered troops throughout Rumelia under Selim’s command. If they seek forgiveness, they must kneel before me and confess their sins.”

“Very well.”

The assembled troops in Edirne were only a fraction, and following Yusuf’s orders, Seriya dispatched messengers across Rumelia.

The Sipahi receiving the news quickly joined Yusuf, increasing his numbers rapidly.

*

Thud! Crash!

The ground trembled, and Selim’s meal was sent crashing to the floor.

Food scattered everywhere, and the head attendant’s face turned pale.

“Take him away.”

With a cold countenance, Selim uttered, as the soldiers waiting nearby seized the attendant by both arms.

“P-padishah! Plea…se spare my life…”

The attendant’s words trailed off as he was dragged out like refuse, and a moment later, terrible screams echoed in Topkapi Palace.

The tremors that had been shivering through the palace stopped, and Selim, wanting to resume his meal, flung down his plate angrily.

“Damn it! Has Allah truly chosen Yusuf over me!”

Selim stormed out, climbing the walls of Topkapi, looking around the capital with a furious expression.

The city’s scenery was nothing short of tragic.

Over 109 mosques had completely collapsed, and over a thousand houses had become stone tombs, swallowing people whole.

“P-please! Our family is trapped inside! Help us!”

A woman who had barely made it out clawed through the debris with her bloodied hands.

Nearby stood a dazed man, staring blankly at the ground where his family lay buried.

An orphan child, having lost their parents, wailed and begged for food, while those fortunate enough to have escaped the disaster had their faces darkened in despair.

After frantically sifting through the rubble for a while, the woman raised her disheveled hair and screamed madly.

“It’s all because a flawed one ascended to the Padishah! Allah’s anger has been unleashed!”

Her cries resonated through the empty city, and soldiers hearing her shouts began to gather.

“She’s insulting the Padishah! Capture her!”

“Prince Yusuf should have been on the throne! These terrible things wouldn’t have happened… Aah!”

As the woman, dragged by her hair, breathed her last while calling for Yusuf, the faces of the stunned citizens were filled with rage.

Repeated insults aimed at Selim and cries for Yusuf’s name ended in death over the course of just a day.

The aftershocks following the great earthquake did not inflict further damages, but they instilled a fear of when the next great calamity would repeat itself.

This fear morphed into anger directed at Selim, and the atmosphere in the capital grew increasingly tense.

“If the false Padishah does not step down, calamity will inevitably return!”

“Only Yusuf can save us!”

Yusuf’s surviving spies moved about, inciting the citizens.

Numerous mosques crumbled, and the authority of Islam plummeted. In an attempt to conquer their fears, the people willingly called for Yusuf instead.

Even from the heights of Topkapi Palace, Selim could hear the calls for Yusuf.

“Yakub, find those seeking Yusuf and behead them all!”

“Understood.”

Yakub received the order with a grim expression.

The issue was not merely killing the commoners; the movements of the Janissaries loyal to him were also troubling.

Though he sensed that the situation was deteriorating, Yakub had no choice.

Having betrayed Bayezid and helped Selim seize the capital, he had crossed a point of no return.

As soldiers from the Crimean Khanate entered the capital, searching for rebels under Yakub’s command, they plunged the city back into fear, and Yusuf’s army drew near the capital.

When a massive force of 60,000 reached close to the capital, gunfire broke out.

“W-what’s happening?”

With news that Yusuf had reached the capital, a startled Selim sprang up from bed, and a soldier from the Crimean Khanate burst through the door, kneeling before him.

“It’s a rebellion! The Janissaries and Kapikulu are in revolt!”

Selim felt a momentary haze cloud his mind.

*

Yusuf, facing the walls of Constantinople on the way to the capital, could once again feel the earthquake’s impact.

Under the moonlight, the towers of the walls appeared grotesquely toppled, showing signs of violent siege warfare.

If the sturdy walls looked like that, it was needless to say what the delicate buildings of the capital would be like.

“It should be about time.”

In the aftermath of the great calamity, the ongoing aftershocks had caused a continuous stream of refugees from the city, creating ideal conditions for spies to operate.

Having already been informed multiple times about the situation inside the capital, Yusuf gazed at the night sky and waited, as gunfire echoed throughout the city.

-Betrayal!

-Kill them all!

The sounds of gunfire and clashing blades reached beyond the walls, and the once-closed city gates swung open with a loud bang.

The deep moat and triple-layered walls meant nothing in the face of rebellion, and Yusuf drew his sword and shouted.

“Free the capital from the hands of the false Padishah!”

“Charge!”

As Yusuf’s command was given, the Sipahi holding the reins surged into the capital.

“Block the gates!”

Though the soldiers of the Crimean Khanate scrambled to respond to the vastly different sound of hooves from the earthquake, they could not breach the defenses created by the Janissaries.

Once the gates were breached, the Sipahi began assisting the Janissaries in taking the walls, and the soldiers of the Crimean Khanate were pushed back helplessly.

As the safety of the gates was secured, Yusuf stepped into the capital and commanded the excited Sipahi holding the reins.

“As the rightful heir of the empire, I command you to capture Selim, who falsely claims to be the Padishah!”

At Yusuf’s order, the soldiers charged toward the Topkapi Palace, trampling over the panicked Crimean Khanate soldiers blocking their path.

Following the path cleared by the soldiers, Yusuf observed the commotion erupting in Topkapi Palace and smirked.

“It’s time for you to step down from your position, brother.”

The fall of the last remaining brother.