I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The Twisting Situation (2)

Clang!

I swung my arm with enough force to make it numb, but my opponent casually brushed it aside.

Even in the cool weather, sweat poured down like rain, and I found myself gasping for breath.

As Yusuf noticeably began to tire, his opponent lowered his sword.

“Your Majesty, I believe this is enough.”

At the words of Silahtar Agha, who acted as the special forces commander, bodyguard captain, and martial arts instructor, and Alper Pasha, Yusuf sheathed his sword.

It was about time to take a break anyway.

The breeze cooled down the heat of my body, and the waiting servants diligently wiped Yusuf’s sweat.

“You have remarkable skill. With just a little more effort, I may soon be unnecessary.”

“You’re overly flattering; perhaps I’ll go meet Allah next.”

“I apologize.”

I waved off Alper, who hurriedly lowered his head at his own joke.

The previous Silahtar Agha was ousted for failing to properly protect Bayezid, and among the many candidates, Alper was chosen.

I could still vividly picture Alper, his muscles rippling with emotion, swearing his loyalty each time he moved.

‘If he knew the reason, he’d feel unappreciated. He was chosen solely because of his name.’

I had seen a list of candidates filled with names like Ahmed, Mehmet, and Mahmoud.

Even now, if I shouted “Ahmed” in a gathering over city planning issues, at least ten heads would turn, and I didn’t want to keep someone with a name like that by my side.

However, it wasn’t like I could rename them, so I had to pick a different name.

“I need to quickly patch up this Devshirme.”

If I were to bring a Christian boy and change his name, I should at least make it something diverse.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Yusuf glanced around.

The Topkapi Palace had faucets scattered throughout, intended to drown out secret conversations with the sound of flowing water.

The deaf servants were responsible for shutting these faucets off, and they were kept nearby to ensure external conversations didn’t escape.

Their outfits were different from the other servants around them.

“Alper, is Ferhad following my orders well?”

“As far as I understand, yes.”

Ferhad Pasha had caught Yusuf’s attention five years before the historical records indicated, after betraying Bayezid and being thrown into the dog food of the Janissaries.

Receiving a look from Yusuf that begged for more information, Alper opened his mouth to speak.

“Among the Janissaries, rumors are rife that the Padishah is the prophet succeeding Muhammad. The Janissary Agha is working with the Bektashi to spread this belief further.”

“Hmm, good. You’re doing as instructed.”

While the Ottomans professed Sunni Islam, they didn’t suppress all other sects.

Particularly, the Janissaries adhered to the Bektashi sect, considered heretical, which was known for being lenient on all religions and even drinking alcohol despite the fasting of Ramadan.

It wouldn’t be strange for them to worship Yusuf.

‘I’ve rolled the snowball; it’ll soon grow bigger.’

Religions can bend in any direction.

Though there were doctrinal differences between the Qizilbash who deified Ismail I and the Twelver Imam sect, a modern Iranian identity was formed through reasonable compromises.

Just like how Turkish people who believe in Islam still drink alcohol, religion can always change.

With enough time and effort, I could bind the subjects together as citizens of the Ottoman state over their religious ties.

“Then there’s much to do going forward.”

Binding the people living in the Ottoman lands into a nation is far harder than colonizing India.

Most people lived their entire lives tied to a single village, and conversions often took place at the village level.

Expanding the narrow views of people limited to their villages into a broader concept of a nation isn’t an easy feat.

‘But there’s no need to rush.’

This is just the beginning, and there’s plenty of life ahead.

I can proceed step by step with the tasks that need immediate attention.

“Alper.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Bring the Grand Vizier. We need to address the situation in the Crimean Khanate.”

Even though meetings were being refused, I kept close tabs on the movements of the Crimean Khanate.

With 30,000 captives, they were further intensifying their raids on surrounding countries.

Since no news had yet come about the damages to the Circassians, their motives for the plundering were clear.

Given the Crimean Khanate was acting recklessly, it didn’t require much effort to devise a plan.

‘A major commotion is about to unfold in the north.’

The patience of neighboring countries must have reached its limit, and we needed to prepare on our side.

“The time for evaluating brotherhood is drawing near.”

*

As one would expect, life as a Sultan is more glamorous compared to when I was a Prince.

I possessed a surplus of jewels and treasures collected by previous Sultans, and at banquets, all sorts of beauties hoped to be graced with my favor.

The woman in my arms was one of them.

Purple dye has always been expensive and hard to extract, symbolizing emperors and authority across both East and West.

The woman who had received a purple handkerchief—signifying selection—stirred awake as the bed shook.

“Y-your Majesty?”

“Enough. Just lie down a bit longer.”

The fair-skinned woman revealed her body and obeyed Yusuf’s command once more.

Nigyar, who had met the Padishah thanks to the recommendation of Valide Hatun Fatima and had received the selection as one of the women, was completely drained from the night before.

While every part of her ached, she was elated.

‘I’ve finally spent the night with him.’

Though it was just a single night at the Sultan’s choice, this alone changed her status within the harem.

Now that she had become a concubine, she could regularly spend the night with the Sultan, and if she became pregnant, she could gain the title of Hatun, accumulating wealth and honor.

Yusuf, able to easily sense what Nigyar was thinking, said as he felt the gentle touches of the maids washing her body.

“Do your best in accordance with your wish.”

“Y-yes?!”

“What’s there to be surprised about? You know full well what a Harem Woman’s thoughts entail.”

Nigyar, meeting Yusuf’s green-eyed gaze, felt a shiver run down her spine.

His penetrating gaze seemed to read her impure thoughts, and Nigyar crawled out of bed, instinctively lowering her body.

“Y-your Majesty. I…”

Dressed in the clothes provided by the women, Yusuf wrapped Nigyar, trembling and unable to hide her nakedness, with a blanket.

“No need to explain. With both Hatuns absent, it’s natural for you to feel greedy.”

Even if Valide Hatun Fatima held tight control over the harem, she was still a mere matriarch.

Hoping to have many children with Yusuf, she was almost an ally for the women of the harem, providing them with hope.

After all, she is a living legend who gave birth to the youngest son, who now occupies the Sultan’s seat.

Even if the two princes showed extraordinary potential, it was natural for her to have hopes.

“The desire to achieve is a positive thing. If possible, go for it. I will summon you every Thursday.”

“Thank you!”

Nigyar, believing she could be punished for harboring such thoughts, bowed her head, her face radiant with emotion.

Being summoned on the official designated Thursday could lead to bearing the King’s child.

“Still, it won’t be as easy as you think.”

My two women had already given birth to princes and had become Hatuns themselves, and they were not ordinary women.

Aishe had considerable influence, as many of the harem women were of Circassian descent.

Hatice was the daughter of the Grand Vizier, and with her status publicized, she could easily reach out to the daughters of high-ranking officials who entered the harem for political reasons.

Overcoming them to build one’s own power base wouldn’t be simple.

“I will succeed.”

“Watching a striving woman can also be quite an entertaining affair.”

She was already my possession, so I’d protect her from dying, but what lay beyond that was entirely up to her skills.

It was enough to provide amusement.

Stepping out of the room, leaving Nigyar behind, Yusuf entered his office, where the attendant, Ali Pasha, welcomed him.

“Did you have a peaceful night last night?”

“Not too shabby. Perhaps I should visit the harem directly next time.”

The harem was the dream of the European elite, with them even mimicking it while lost in various fantasies.

It would be odd not to visit when I had secured such a dream.

“If you inform me in advance, I will prepare according to your tastes.”

“Understood.”

Thinking it was a bit humorous to discuss women’s matters with a eunuch lacking the symbols of manhood since morning, Yusuf opened his mouth.

“Did you confirm what I ordered?”

“Yes, I’ve dispatched officials to the site where the pitch is sourced. Detailed information will be available soon.”

“Good.”

Pitch is a type of natural asphalt, and the mention of pitch also implies the extraction of petroleum.

From ancient times until now, wood was used until the industrial revolution embraced coal and oil.

Coal has been used since BC, long before, and is still utilized in many areas. It was just that its usage significantly increased during the industrial revolution.

Pitch derived from oil has been regarded as a mysterious substance since ancient times, with records stating it was used for waterproofing Noah’s Ark in the Old Testament.

The inability to extract oil properly due to underdeveloped drilling technologies prevented proper usage as we do today.

‘But those regions that have been extracting oil have been part of the Ottoman empire since ancient times.’

That land will become Romania in the future.

It was an area where oil had been seeping for ages, and they were already digging wells to extract crude oil.

‘Even if oil exists, not having refined oil technology makes it hard to utilize properly, but having it is better than not.’

I would soon need a lot of boats, and pitch could be used for waterproofing, and it could replace expensive candles with cheaper fuel.

It could also be used as coke for iron refining.

Coke was an issue I needed to consider.

Europe already had furnace technology, and they were using charcoal for refining.

The problem was that charcoal required a lot of wood, and so when building ships, a lot of timber would be consumed, leading to deforestation.

“Still, it’s a pity. While having oil is certainly good, it would have been even better to have proper coal.”

Most of the coal extracted in the Ottoman region was low-quality lignite for household use, and good-quality coking coal was hard to find.

Making the best of lignite while conducting Conquest Wars was the best course of action.

“Ali Pasha, when is the Crimean Khanate’s ship expected to arrive?”

“It should arrive by today.”

Given how little time had passed since the authorization was granted, it seemed they were quite eager.

Yusuf had no intention to unnecessarily delay progress, so this was welcome news.

“Menli, I finally get to see that face.”

I was eager to see what kind of expression he had upon our first meeting.

*

A beautifully adorned gathering of about a hundred women filled my view.

Ranging from women who looked like adults to little girls who could barely be in elementary school, the age spectrum was quite diverse.

With so many women, the excitement faded, and I felt a piercing gaze directed at me from a small child at waist level.

“Hey there, kiddo. What’s your name?”

It was a whim.

The image of Aishe, who I had met at the slave market, popped into my mind.

Not backing down from my question, the girl continued to glare at me, prompting a nearby man to growl in irritation before she finally spoke up.

“Aleksandra Risovskaya.”

Hearing the name made my head throb slightly.

…Why is she already here?

The given name was Aleksandra Risovskaya, known in the West as Roxelana.

She shared the name of Hürrem Sultan, leaving me feeling betrayed by my luck.