I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

Wearing the Mask of Rage (2)

Living the life of Yusuf, I truly feel that human life is a fleeting thing in this era.

If kidnapped, one can be sold into slavery overnight, and if defeated in war, thousands upon thousands can be massacred.

One can easily find a village that was recently passed by turned into ruins, and a passing nomad can turn into a bandit, posing a threat to one’s life at any moment.

The greeting “Assalamu Alaikum,” meaning “may peace be upon you,” is something to ponder over as you never know when peace might be broken, and this time it just happened to be Trabzon.

“So many dead.”

“I am sorry, Padishah.”

Of the four thousand troops defending Trabzon, three thousand either died or were injured, and among the fifteen thousand subjects, four thousand were casualties.

Including those on the brink of death, the number of fatalities exceeded three thousand, and we had to spend the whole day clearing the corpses to restore Trabzon.

“No need to apologize. You did your duty faithfully.”

I always feel this way, no matter how much knowledge of the future I possess, there is no reason to underestimate the people of this era.

I still don’t understand why Venice hasn’t acted yet; if they did, what would have happened?

“The fleet would have moved west, and Trabzon would have fallen for lack of timely rescue.”

The two concubines and the daughter might have been captured by Ismail or could have taken their own lives before being caught.

In that situation, whatever the outcome, the Safavid would inevitably fall to the Ottomans.

Whether to negotiate for the captured women or to wage war to uphold the Sultan’s face and assert the strength of the Ottomans, the initiative would have shifted to the opponent, and the Ottomans would not receive a favorable outcome.

That’s how deadly Ismail’s numbers were.

“And even if reinforcements arrived in time, the capabilities of Arda, who managed to hold off Ismail, should not be underestimated either.”

Even if civilians in the castle offered assistance, they had held out for over twenty days against thirty thousand enemies with just four thousand soldiers.

Despite the siege weapons being somewhat lacking due to supplies coming through Samtskhe, Arda’s achievements could not be belittled.

How could anyone dismiss the contributions of those from the past when even someone who wouldn’t end up in history books did this?

“Arda, I heard your son died in this war?”

“…It was the third.”

“The third, then it was Serdar. The mischievous one. I remember you had cut off all the tips of his arrows. Do you remember?”

“I do. Embarrassingly, I had done that on the day I went hunting with the Padishah; how could I forget?”

It was a day filled with mockery as Arda chuckled foolishly while looking at arrows without tips.

Arda had been chased around all of Trabzon, dodging with a cudgel in hand.

“I heard that hiding helped; they managed to hold out until the end.”

Conversely, due to inflicting considerable damage, his body was nearly unrecognizable when he died, and without the broken sword next to him, he might not have been found at all.

Of course, it wasn’t just Serdar who displayed heroism. Countless brave souls had fought for survival together.

“Şemsi Pasha.”

“Yes, Padishah.”

“Reward generously those who survived this battle. And I shall build a mosque for the deceased. Furthermore, ensure their actions are widely known for others to be inspired by.”

“Understood.”

Yusuf looked at the bodies laid on hastily made coffins before turning away coldly.

Though I felt sorry for those who died in this battle, this wasn’t a reward given out of pure intentions.

It was a measure meant to serve as an example.

To instill the belief that even if one dies fighting for the country, they need not worry about those left behind.

‘Patriotism cannot be built up overnight. It must be slowly instilled like this.’

This was a position where even the sacrifices of many had to be used as political leverage.

With a slightly heavy heart, Yusuf changed the subject.

“Are preparations for the fleet’s return nearly complete?”

“Yes, all artillery has disembarked, and aside from some supply ships gathering gunpowder and necessary supplies from the capital, everything is ready to return to Gallipoli.”

“Good work, Kemal Reis.”

Since we were on the verge of conquering Georgia, there was no need for the fleet to just float around.

It would simply waste power.

We just needed to gather the artillery that could be useful for both siege and field battles, and Yusuf issued orders to Kemal.

“Provocations may come from the west. I will leave the decisions following that to you.”

“Trust me to handle it.”

“And inform Uruji as well. If the western fleet moves, let him rampage as he pleases.”

When gaps appear at sea, it’s the pirates who get thrilled.

“Uruji and the Barbary Pirates will be quite pleased.”

“How much they can take for themselves will still depend on them.”

Yusuf replied briefly, patted Kemal’s shoulder a few times, and returned to the castle, scooping up Hasna who was waddling toward him.

“Ah! Kyaaaaar!”

Seeing her smile brightly lightened his mood, and as Yusuf smiled subtly, the two women said somewhat enviously.

“Even though she’s my daughter, could you not give me some of your attention?”

“Aishe Hatun has a point. You seldom show us a smile.”

Yusuf simply laughed in response to the two women shooting glares at him.

Getting jealous was only natural since he had been holding Hasna ever since arriving in Trabzon.

“She’s my daughter, but isn’t she uniquely special?”

Every parent thinks their child is special.

With that rose-tinted view, it’s hard to judge one’s child objectively, making it even more challenging to see just how special they truly are.

Until Mehmet began his studies, it was hard to gauge just how smart he was, and I had no idea how outstanding Murad’s physique was since he was born with vigor.

But, perhaps due to becoming used to those two examples? Hasna’s uniqueness caught my eye quickly.

‘It’s been a long while since I wished to see someone daily like this.’

It wasn’t simply because she was my daughter or that she was cute, that much I knew.

There were plenty of marred emotions in him from past experiences.

“If you’re already this affectionate, how on earth will you send her off when she gets married?”

“I can worry about that when the time comes.”

Who knows how long this feeling will remain?

Still, one thing felt certain: by the time the girl reaches marriageable age, the country would likely be quite tumultuous.

‘That’ll be entertaining to watch.’

It’s not often one gets to witness the beauty that is said to be a national treasure up close.

While he was spending light-hearted time with Hasna, a Janissary girl guarding the castle arrived.

“Padishah, an envoy has arrived from Samtskhe.”

“Oh?”

For Samtskhe, it must feel like their home is on fire.

It wasn’t only that the Circassians had captured the harbor and decimated his fleet.

If the Ottomans couldn’t somehow quell their rage, the ending for them was obvious.

“Ah?”

Gently stroking Hasna’s head, who seemed hungry and was nibbling on her fingers, Yusuf spoke with a soft tone.

“Kill them all and hang their heads at the castle gate.”

Dozens of heads hung on poles above the semi-collapsed castle gates.

*

The value of a standing army is determined by how quickly troops can be gathered.

In that regard, the Ottomans were among the top countries in this era.

When a conscription order was issued in Anatolia, the Sipahi moved as if they had been waiting for it and began heading towards Trabzon without delay, joining in one after another.

The movements of the Ottomans were extremely blatant, and even those who had always kept an eye on the maximum threat posed by the Ottomans could sense it quickly.

“Doge! What will you do now that it has come to this?!”

Against the scolding of the envoy from the Papal States, the Doge of Venice, Leonardo Loredan sighed.

“Who would have anticipated things would come to this?”

“If Venice had mobilized its fleet, situations like this could have been avoided! What havoc will befall if the Safavid collapses?!”

The reason why the Ottomans couldn’t recklessly move east was that the Mamluks and the White Sheep Dynasty were containing them.

The Safavid had to take on that role in place of the White Sheep Dynasty, but at this rate, the Safavid was on the verge of collapse.

This wasn’t just a matter of the Safavid collapsing.

“Do you truly think the Mamluks can hold back the Ottomans?”

“…If we offer our support, perhaps.”

That was the Doge’s response, although inwardly he felt the answer was negative.

It wasn’t that the Mamluks were weak; it was the nature of their adversary.

The infidel emperor, who had never tasted defeat before, was considered impossible for the Mamluks, no matter how high the mountain of gold one piled up.

“How can we trust those scraping the ground for nothing?”

“Your words are harsh. It’s not an inconsequential matter.”

The Doge frowned.

Due to his blunders, Portugal had gained naval supremacy in the Indian Ocean, dealing a severe blow to Venice’s spice trade.

To compensate for this, he quickly sought an agreement with the Mamluks to create a canal; the envoy now brought this up, making it all the more uncomfortable.

The envoy took a step back.

“Ah, my words were too harsh. However, keep this in mind: if the Safavid collapses, the Mamluks will be next.”

If the Ottomans conquer the Mamluks, Venice, who benefits from Mediterranean trade, would inevitably suffer as well.

Sighing under the envoy’s pressure, the Doge resigned himself.

“Very well, although it is late, I will order the fleet to move.”

How much of a help it would be, he wasn’t sure, but if the fleet moved from the west, the Ottomans wouldn’t be able to commit all their forces to attack the Safavid.

At the very least, it was a decision made to give them some breathing room.

Once the envoy withdrew, the remaining Doge shouted out angrily.

“By the way, where did the envoy who went to the Safavid go?!”

This decision was made by those who did not know Yusuf’s heart, who had no intention of setting foot on Safavid land.

*

“Uaaaargh! Damn it!”

What on earth is holding on to my position like this?

Kvirkvare threw the drinking glass he had in his hand against the wall.

The ringing in his ears about his uncle Mzechabuk’s foolish choice drove him mad, and the harsh reality of that being true was unbearable.

– Mzechabuk has been brought in.

“Bring him in!”

The servant who had previously referred to Mzechabuk as a criminal was now calling him by his name, something Kvirkvare failed to realize.

Mzechabuk, looking pale, stumbled in as though his time in jail had not been easy, and scoffed at the sight of his drunken nephew.

“How pathetic. Acting as if you’ve got the world in the palm of your hand. You stink of alcohol.”

“Shut up. This is your last chance to live.”

With a slight shimmer of drunkenness, Kvirkvare grabbed his uncle by the collar.

“Quickly tell me how to stop the Ottomans! You were close to the Sultan for a long time; you must know how!”

“How to stop them? Hahaha.”

With a hoarse voice, Mzechabuk burst into laughter and, coughing from the hilarity, replied.

“It’s already too late. It’s not just your life that’s at stake, even mine wouldn’t be enough to solve this. This is the kind of mess you’ve created. Got it, you foolish brat?”

Feeling as if even the slightest hope had been cut off, Kvirkvare’s hands trembled, while Mzechabuk spoke with filled despair and emptiness.

“Remember this well: it is you. The culprit of the downfall of all renowned families in Georgia.”

Nightmares were fast approaching.