I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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Fiery Beacon (1)

Underestimating the enemy is dangerous, but overestimating them is just as perilous.

Even with the information suggesting Ismail might be in cahoots with the West, Yusuf remained composed in assessing the situation.

When you boil it down to the facts, is this really a shocking revelation?

‘Not really. It’s something that could happen anytime.’

Building alliances with distant lands while targeting nearby ones isn’t anything special, and historically, Venice extended its hand to the Safavids to counter the Ottomans.

Of course, before any real cooperation could take place, the Safavids were smashed by the Ottomans, and it all fizzled out.

Realizing this is just a typical occurrence helped calm Yusuf’s mind.

“I need to find out who Ismail is teaming up with. Well, it certainly isn’t the Hungarians.”

“I think so too.”

Shemshi readily agreed with Yusuf, given the mess Hungary was in.

In modern terms, having a standing army would be normal, but in medieval Europe, hiring mercenaries was common instead of maintaining an expensive standing force.

No nation could mobilize the vast number of central troops and cavalry like the Ottomans, and Hungary barely managed to maintain its 20,000-strong Black Army standing force.

But that was over 20 years ago.

‘With powerful nobles propping up a mere puppet king, how could the kingdom function properly? That once-proud Black Army is just a memory now.’

The Hungarian kingdom, functioning on paperwork handed by nobles, wasn’t in any state to reach out to the Safavids.

Thanks to this, Hungary could be easily dismissed.

“Then it must be one of the newcomers to the Italian peninsula.”

The Italian Wars were ongoing, with all those minor nations leaking a bit of gas besides Portugal.

‘The Papal States rooted in Italy, and those French, Spanish, and Holy Roman Empire interlopers who want to grab a piece of Italian territory for themselves.’

It was the true hotspot of the era, and one could almost imagine munching popcorn while watching the chaos unfold.

Who would’ve thought the flames would reach this side as well?

“Shemshi Pasha.”

“Yes, Padishah.”

“Find out which idiot is plotting what.”

As soon as the Sultan’s command was issued, all the situation in the Italian peninsula was gathered.

The Ottomans were merely separated from the Italian peninsula by the Adriatic Sea, so it wouldn’t take long for the intel to reach the capital.

“The Papal States, which once attempted to gather allies to attack Venice, have now joined hands with them. What a ridiculous turn of events.”

“It’s probably due to France growing too large. Venice needs to hold out to keep our Empire in check.”

“Beyond that, there’s nothing particularly suspicious?”

With the Papal States and Venice teaming up, the Italian peninsula slipped into a brief state of peace.

The newly-formed alliance gathered troops, while France took over and consolidated its territories in Northern Italy, like Genoa and Milan.

The situation felt eerily calm, akin to the eye of a storm, without any accusing evidence surfacing.

Yet, upon receiving the reports, Yusuf pinpointed the culprit immediately.

“It’s the Papal States and Venice scheming.”

Though events had strayed far from his future knowledge, his influence as a newly appointed Sultan hadn’t made much of a dent in the West.

With a nickname like the Warrior Pope, Julius II was a war fanatic who saw France as a new threat, and it wouldn’t be odd if those two clashed earlier.

The fact that they were treading carefully implied they had a separate target in mind.

“Immediately investigate Venice and the Papal States.”

Given the difficulty of explaining the basis for this judgment, Yusuf issued orders instead of explanations, and the officials focused their efforts on these two locations.

Soon they discovered something peculiar.

“The movements of Venetian ships are suspicious. There’s also evidence of the Papal States accepting ships affiliated with Spain.”

Unless one paid special attention, it would’ve been hard to notice. However, the important part was they did find it.

The officials began whispering.

‘Even after gathering various experiences for decades, they couldn’t have anticipated this.’

‘Is Allah really with us? How did we catch this?’

It was different from predicting an earthquake.

While the Quran demonstrated astonishing prophecies, the officials knew well that being a prophet doesn’t guarantee always coming out on top.

Even Muhammad faced bitter defeats, with talk of surrendering to the enemy openly discussed behind closed doors.

This incident satisfied the officials who valued keen judgment over mere prophecy in Yusuf’s present actions.

“Padishah, what shall we do?”

In response to the Grand Vizier’s question, Yusuf quickly made his decision.

“We’ll summon the navy and have them wait at Gallipoli.”

Gallipoli was a crucial mountain in the Dardanelles Strait that one must pass to enter the capital, Constantinople, from the West.

It was one of the key chokepoints, allowing the navy to sail at any moment in sync with Western movements.

There was no need to panic over the West not yet commencing their naval operations; Yusuf’s command was utterly rational.

“I will follow your command.”

The Grand Vizier and the officials readily agreed, and orders were dispatched to gather ships from various regions.

This movement of the Ottomans reached not just the Black Sea region but the West as well.

*

The Republic of Venice had long been a wealthy nation, accumulating immense wealth through superb commerce and navigation.

The one ruling this prosperous Venice was called the Doge, elected from powerful Venetian families, with the current Doge being Leonardo Loredan.

“Doge! Please make a decision quickly!”

Under pressure from envoys from the Papal States, the Doge fell into deep contemplation.

Typically a lifelong position without special reasons, he knew the atmosphere around him hadn’t been favorable lately.

Having captured part of the Papal States led to a fateful blunder, provoking the Holy League to attack Venice.

To make matters worse, recently in India, the Portuguese clashed in the Battle of Diu, and in supporting Portugal, they unexpectedly succeeded against the Mamluk navy.

They had inadvertently set the stage for the spice trade, a source of massive profit, to come to a screeching halt.

‘In such a situation, you want us to fight the Ottomans too?’

Of course, there was indeed an intention to fight, as discussed with the Pope.

If the Safavids had held true to their partnership…

“The envoy hasn’t returned yet! We can’t dispatch troops until he comes back.”

“Hasn’t the agreed-upon period already passed?”

“Do we have the strength to engage the Ottomans right now without the Safavid’s support? You have no idea how terrifying an opponent the Ottomans are!”

It hadn’t been long since they’d fought a naval battle against the Ottomans, losing territory and paying hefty reparations.

The nightmares of that time still lingered, making it hard for him to consider going to war against the Ottomans again.

“This time is different from when we fought alone. The Papal States, representing God’s will, are here to assist us. We shall surely prevail. Trust in the Pope.”

“Trust the Pope, you say?”

The Doge scoffed.

The current Pope, Julius II, was categorized as pro-Venetian and even had the nickname Il Veneziano.

Now, this man had formed a Holy League to attack Venice simply because it had occupied Papal territories.

To Venice, he was their sworn enemy; what was there to trust?

Upon the Doge’s mocking, the envoy narrowed his eyes ominously.

“Regardless of any bad situation, he is still the one executing God’s will. Kindly mind your words.”

“God’s will, huh…”

After a brief pause, the Doge retorted coldly.

“Speaking of which, didn’t that infidel emperor predict an earthquake, suggesting he might be more in line with ‘God’s will’?”

“Are you out of your mind?! How could you believe such nonsense!”

In response to the furious rebuttal, the Doge waved his hand apologetically.

“Do calm yourself. Such rumors have been circulating among our sailors lately. After all, they’re a people known for their delusions.”

“…Still, I beg you to be careful with your words.”

“Understood. I’ll be cautious.”

The Doge readily apologized but nodded internally.

It was clear that since the newly-appointed Sultan Yusuf had made prophetic declarations, the Papal States would be reacting sensitively to that.

So they were probably pushing him to urge Venice into conflict with the Ottomans.

“Anyway, my stance is firm. I will only consider departure once the envoy sent to the Safavids returns and cooperation is assured.”

“…I understand. Let’s just hope the envoy returns soon.”

With the Doge’s resolute words, the envoy turned sharply and vanished.

As the envoy disappeared from view, the Doge’s expression briefly clouded.

“More importantly, what about the envoy I sent?”

Surely even an infidel wouldn’t kill the envoy. Even if things didn’t go smoothly, not returning was peculiar.

The absence of the envoy left the Doge puzzled, and the Papal States remained anxious.

*

Mzechabuk, who had risen to the position of Atabeg, similar to a regent protecting a young lord while running the state, wielded immense power in Samtskhe.

Just like many regents throughout history, despite his nephew and prince Kvirkvare III being old enough, he didn’t relinquish his position.

Naturally, as he had taken the throne through the temptation of Yusuf after killing his brother, such behavior was expected.

Anyway, how long did Mzechabuk believe this power would last?

“Atabeg, I believe it’s time for you to step down.”

Thrown harshly to the ground, Mzechabuk glared at his nephew sitting on the throne.

“…Kvirkvare, have you foolishly joined hands with the Safavids?”

“I wouldn’t want to hear that from someone who’s fallen to such a fool.”

With a mocking smirk on one side, Mzechabuk clenched his teeth.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have been caught so off-guard.

‘I let my guard down too much with a major crisis approaching.’

During the succession crisis, Yusuf had intended to clean up several troublesome countries within Georgia, which had once created a significant crisis.

He aimed to reorganize Georgia centered on countries that clearly submitted to the Ottomans, including Samtskhe, while Mzechabuk was buried in that work.

It was utterly inconceivable that Safavid and his nephew would join forces to oust him during this gap.

It was a blatant blunder on his part, a painful consequence.

“Kvirkvare, you’ve made a monumental mistake. Do you realize that?”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with clinging to someone who will help me.”

“Clinging to a rotten vine and not realizing the issue? That’s how foolish you are.”

At these words, Kvirkvare roughly pulled Mzechabuk’s hair, growling.

“My choice was correct! Just wait. The Shah will take the head of that person you hold in high regard.”

“I’ll make sure to witness the downfall of the nation thanks to your foolish choice. You’ve turned a dangerous beast into an enemy!”

“…Get this out of my sight!”

Though he wanted nothing more than to behead him on the spot, he couldn’t kill him carelessly as his foundation was still weak.

As Kvirkvare suppressed his rising anger, the envoy sent by Ismail spoke.

“The Ottoman fleet has already begun to move. They won’t have any attention to spare here as they try to stop incoming forces from the West.”

“I’m aware. The Shah must be on the move too, right?”

“Of course.”

Ismail planned to besiege Trabzon to capture Yusuf’s two wives as hostages.

If the Qizilbash stirred things up, there wouldn’t be a chance to flee by land.

Thus, the role of Samtskhe became crucial.

“So make sure to block all sea routes.”

“Do not worry. Not a single ship will pass out of Trabzon.”

This was the decisive move by Kvirkvare, who had seized power in Samtskhe.

Soon, ships set sail from Samtskhe’s harbor.