I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The Words of Fools (2)

He was a child. Still young enough that he spent more time playing than working.

When a mother lost her child and charged at the nobility in rage, the people were swept up in fury.

Was it because of the long history of disdain from the nobility that surfaced in their minds, or was it the rage transformed by the impending horror of the Ottoman?

The ones who lost themselves to anger didn’t even know why they acted that way, but by then, such reasons had become irrelevant.

“He’s… he’s dead. He’s dead!”

As the people snapped back to reality from that cry, the situation finally came into focus.

The noble who caused the trouble lay in a pool of blood, having shared his final moments with the mother of the child he had stabbed.

At least it was a relief that the five soldiers who tried to hold back the mob were merely injured and not dead.

Of course, it was too late to take comfort in that fact.

“What’s all this commotion!”

As the soldiers rushed over to the disturbance, the gathered crowd cautiously glanced around before fleeing in panic.

Finally understanding the scene, the commander was aghast.

“It’s noble murder! Don’t let a single one escape!”

Though the noble’s face was unrecognizable, his attire revealed enough to indicate his status.

Murdering a noble was a capital crime, and if things went wrong, the soldiers nearby could end up in hot water as well.

At a glance, there seemed to be nearly a hundred accomplices, and the commander realized he couldn’t apprehend them all with the soldiers available, so he drew his sword.

“Kill them if you have to!”

With the commander’s order, the soldiers brandished their weapons mercilessly at the fleeing criminals.

The problem was that the city was packed with refugees, and even those running in terror at the sight of armed soldiers were misunderstood and lost their lives.

To those not yet aware of what was happening, it looked like the soldiers were indiscriminately slaughtering innocent people.

“The soldiers have gone mad! They’re trying to kill us all!”

“If you don’t want to die, fight back!”

Usually, something like the murder of a noble wouldn’t happen, but with the impending Ottoman army, the commander snapped back to reality at the ringing voices.

The soldiers who had stabbed at the backs of those they deemed criminals finally met the wild eyes of the tribesmen rushing their way.

Things were spiraling out of control.

“No! We… we killed the noble…”

The commander tried to explain the situation, but when people saw their comrades and families bleeding at the hands of the soldiers, they became frenzied.

“Die! You bastards!”

One man, armed only with a stone from the ground, swung it at the head of a soldier in front of him, causing the soldier to collapse, clutching his head. He picked up the fallen sword.

With practiced ease, the man drove the sword into the soldier’s heart.

As the soldier crumpled with a choking sound, the man discarded the sword and raised it high, shouting, “If you don’t want to die, fight back!”

The soldier’s shock at losing his comrade quickly turned to feverish excitement as he looked back at his commander amid the throng rushing in.

But the soldiers could only see their commander being strangled by a man who had come charging from behind.

As the commander’s body went limp, the soldiers who felt they couldn’t survive the wrath of the angry people threw down their swords.

The swift men picked up the discarded weapons and bound the surrendering soldiers in their own garments, and the one who had been the first to kill a soldier raised his voice.

“Why must we die fighting the Empire! Who betrayed us, who fought alongside the Empire?”

“It’s the nobles! They’re the ones we should tear apart!”

When someone responded, the man shouted even louder.

“The Sultan of the Empire is merciful! Let’s kill the nobles and seek forgiveness! Only then can we save ourselves!”

Due to the lifetime of loyalty ingrained in them, the people were hesitant to agree to the notion of killing the nobles they had revered since birth.

However, there was a clear reason they needed to change such long-held beliefs.

“Look at this scene! The nobles who see us as less than livestock will never let us live!”

From afar, the corpse of a noble lay, and soldiers who had been killed and disarmed were sprawled on the ground.

The nobles they had seen until now would never let them live, and there was no guarantee they could escape the narrow castle.

Realizing that to survive, they must kill, they roared, “Let’s kill! Let’s kill the nobles!”

The common people, who had never imagined they would find themselves shouting such things, realized after saying them once how easy it felt.

The cries to kill the nobles echoed through Ardahan.

*

The Shadiman of Ardahan, one who could be considered akin to a duke in a foreign land, was speechless as he witnessed the scene before him.

Having only indirectly confirmed through smoke that Shabshat—the last bastion—had fallen, Shadiman wondered if he should flee now.

With only about five thousand soldiers at his command, he certainly felt he wouldn’t withstand what was coming.

‘I don’t want to die.’

He was thinking that fleeing to Safavid would be better than being slaughtered alongside his family like the lord of Artvin.

Fortunately, Ardahan shared a border with the Safavid, so perhaps escape was possible.

Shadiman instructed his loyal vassals and family to gather valuables and stepped outside into the sudden commotion to see it.

The sight of an enormous crowd surging like a raging tide toward his citadel.

“Tabadis! What… what is happening?”

His appointed vassal, Aznawri, rushed over, shouting.

“It’s a rebellion! The people are rising up!”

“Why is that?!”

He couldn’t ignore the obvious; the people and the soldiers siding with them had blades pointed at the citadel, and even those soldiers who hadn’t betrayed them were clearly ready to surrender in the face of such madness.

Aznawri became as speechless as a mute bee caught in honey when asked how things had come to this.

Before he could grasp the situation, the flames of rebellion had spread throughout all of Ardahan.

“Useless!”

Fuming, Shadiman slapped Aznawri across the face and shouted, “We must flee! Prepare quickly!”

“Yes, yes!”

Now, the reason no longer mattered.

The rebellion was already in such a state that it would be hard to quash in a short time, and even if the soldiers and people joined forces, they couldn’t possibly stop the approaching Ottoman army in this situation.

At the moment he resolved to flee to survive, a loud thud echoed in his chest.

Thud!

– The gates of the citadel have been opened! Capture the nobles!

It sounded like a death sentence.

*

Although luck had obscured the light during the capture of Artvin, the strength of the Ottoman army was plainly revealed in their capturing of Shabshat.

The stone walls were easily crumbled by the relentless barrage of cannon fire, and soldiers who exploited the gaps ruthlessly snuffed out the lives of enemies.

The Ottoman army, capable of taking the fortress as easily as twisting a child’s wrist, followed the same procedures as in Artvin.

Yusuf, both a vengeful spirit and conqueror, smiled with interest at the news from Ardahan.

“Faster than expected.”

“Yes, I never thought a revolt would break out so soon.”

Revolts typically arise from serious economic exploitation, like the Wat Tyler’s Rebellion in 14th-century England.

When people feel they can no longer survive, they can’t help but rise up in desperation.

This means that the peasantry must feel a threat to their lives before they can muster the strength to rise against the heavy weight of their burdens, which is why revolts are difficult in the first place.

No matter how cruelly they were occupied, turning their swords inward requires tremendous courage, even if they may regret it later.

“In many ways, this is an interesting development.”

The urgent news detailing how the revolt began was sent to him in detail.

It was only natural since his agents had played a significant role in inciting this revolt.

It had been his planted informants who stirred the people to rush forward following the mother of the deceased child and who incited the soldiers to take their swords and kill the nobles.

“I suppose a reward is in order. Şemsi Pasha.”

“Yes, Padishah.”

“Inform the entire army. We’ll be heading to Ardahan.”

Though they hadn’t even fully completed the traditional three-day pillaging period, none below voiced their dissatisfaction.

Yusuf’s prestige and the abilities certified through two victories completely captivated the hearts of the soldiers.

Leaving only the soldiers tasked with securing Shabshat behind, they began their march, while the Janissary band’s music rang out across the plains leading to Ardahan.

“Look, they’ve come.”

“The Ottoman army is here!”

As the Turkish music faintly played, the dark mass of the Ottoman army approached, causing those atop the walls to tremble.

While there was relief in not having to fight them, anxiety also surged at the thought of their surrender not being accepted.

Now, it was far too late to turn back, and they found themselves in a position where they desperately hoped the rumors about clemency would be true.

“It seems that a revolt has indeed begun.”

Among those densely packed atop the walls were not just soldiers, but many unarmed commoners.

The gates had already been wide open before the army’s arrival, and though fear and anticipation filled the air, there was no resolve to fight.

“Someone is coming out.”

A group emerged through the open gates.

Those who were bound together like cattle drew near, and at about 100 meters away, they dropped to their knees.

“Padishah?!”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Surprised by Yusuf’s nonchalant gesture, as security was not even assured, he waved his hand dismissively.

He could sense their sentiments clearly, and there was no need for concern.

Approaching with his long-cherished gun slung over one shoulder, Yusuf heard a booming voice.

“We meet the great Padishah!”

Looking at the raggedly dressed figure who had called out with a strong voice, Yusuf smiled slightly.

“Thank you for your efforts. What is your name?”

“I am Aladdin.”

“I will remember you.”

“Thank you, Padishah! May Allah be with you forever! It was an honor to illuminate the path of the Padishah!”

The onlookers, including captured nobles and those who had joined the revolt, wore expressions of shock as they listened to the conversation between the man who led the rebellion and the Sultan.

“How cowardly! You will receive your comeuppance!”

At the furious exclamations, Yusuf turned his head to look at those bound by the ropes.

The rags that had once been clothing were now tattered and torn from the hardships endured in just a few days, with pus and severe wounds visible through their remnants, and the majority appeared utterly broken.

In fact, the men might even be the fortunate ones.

The women seemed to have endured even harsher experiences; their hair a mess, their eyes hollow.

“Who is that man?”

“He’s the Tabadi of Ardahan.”

“A mouthy one who lost to his own incompetence, eh?”

Yusuf scoffed lightly as he stepped on Shadiman’s back.

With his face pressed to the ground, Shadiman squirmed, but it was impossible to escape the weight on him.

“And I can’t say I care for those types.”

-Bang!

With a flash from the already loaded gun, Shadiman’s head was punctured, and he became a cold corpse.

The watchful observers could do nothing but freeze in shock, and Yusuf addressed Aladdin.

“Go back and tell the fearful to expect my mercy.”

“Understood, Padishah!”

As Aladdin returned to the fortress to fulfill his orders, Yusuf turned his indifferent gaze back to the dozens of bound nobles.

“Nothing salvageable here. Kill them all.”

At the command of the Padishah, the Janissaries swept through the nobles, and cheers erupted in Ardahan as Aladdin arrived.

A cry from those whose lives had been spared as the prize for inciting the rebellion.

It was the turning moment for the wheel of revolt beginning to roll.