Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 101

The End and a Little Trickery (1)

Just like in chess or Go, where war is miniaturized, defeat comes when the king is captured, no matter how many pieces remain. The same holds true for real war.

No matter how numerous the troops or how much capacity there is to continue the war, everything ends if the Sultan is captured.

If Yusuf were captured, even the conquest of Georgia, where victory was all but assured, could be overturned. Considering this, guarding the Sultan with a mere ten thousand troops might seem risky.

Especially since Georgia might launch a desperate attack, pinning their hopes on it.

However, the situation was different if the majority of those ten thousand troops were from the central army.

‘With this force, we could win even if the twenty thousand Qizilbash [Turkic warriors] who fled were to attack.’

Considering the cavalry armed with chainmail, the Janissaries [elite Ottoman soldiers] armed with guns, and the cannons being dragged behind, even the Qizilbash wouldn’t dare attack rashly.

The weak Georgian army was, of course, not even worth mentioning.

The weather, not too hot despite it being August, and the cool breeze that occasionally blew, made the march pleasant. The four-day march came to an end.

“That seems to be Akhaltsikhe.”

Akhaltsikhe, which had been faintly visible, grew closer, and its scenery became clear.

Just as Akhaltsikhe means ‘new fortress’ in Georgian, Akhaltsikhe was a city that began as a fortress, boasting solid defenses.

High walls surrounded the city, and on the hill, the citadel, the final defense facility, proudly displayed its presence.

It was a citadel that had withstood the attacks of the great Timur Empire a hundred years ago.

“Shemsi Pasha, if we were to occupy this place, how long do you think it would take?”

“With the current forces, it would take more than two weeks.”

Although the number of cannons had significantly decreased because the Sipahis [Ottoman cavalry] were equipped with mobile small and medium-sized cannons, the twelve Urban cannons, boasting considerable destructive power, remained intact.

Even with such forces, it was a city that could not be captured in a short time.

“So, the problem is the citadel, right?”

“Yes, no matter how powerful the cannons are, it’s not easy to destroy a citadel on a hill.”

Well, there’s no helping it.

Considering that the flying shells are at best beautifully shaped stones or round iron lumps, there is a limit to their destructive power.

Of course, considering the cost and effort that went into building that fortress, investing just two weeks might not be a big deal.

While Yusuf and Shemsi were lightly assessing Akhaltsikhe, the Ottoman army finished lining up, and the military band began to play.

Thump! Thump!

As the Ottoman army stomped their feet to the cheerful music, a light vibration and tremendous sound echoed.

The soldiers on the walls watched the scene with horrified faces.

The Ottoman army’s infamy spread throughout Georgia when Yusuf annihilated five thousand Qizilbash despite being outnumbered.

Georgia was already intimidated and kneeled before Yusuf, who was merely a Sanjakbey [Ottoman district governor], and now that he had returned as the Sultan of the empire, they had every reason to tremble in fear.

Before the battle even began, morale plummeted, and the thick gate opened, with about ten people coming out.

After a thorough body search, they were allowed to stand before Yusuf, and they immediately knelt and paid their respects.

“We greet the Padishah [Ottoman Sultan] of the great empire. My name is Rusudan of Tivadze.”

Yusuf coldly spoke to Rusudan, who was lowering himself as much as possible.

“Who said I was curious about your name? Just tell me why you’ve come.”

Rusudan felt a sense of foreboding at Yusuf’s sharper-than-expected reaction.

Hearing the news that the culprit, Kvarkvare, was dead meant that they had met the envoy they sent.

He thought they could have a reasonable conversation, unlike before, but the atmosphere was strange, and something he had momentarily forgotten came to mind.

“…Padishah, where is the envoy we sent this time?”

Yusuf’s lips slowly curled up at the trembling in his voice.

“His head should be hanging in Ardahan, but I don’t know where his torso went. He must have known he would die if he came, but he was a strange fellow who begged for his life. Don’t you think so?”

“He was a human even the merciful Allah would not look upon.”

Cheers erupted from all over at the Janissary Agha’s [commander of the Janissaries] response.

Rusudan felt a chill down his spine at their reaction and calmly opened his mouth.

“Kvarkvare, who committed the greatest sin, is dead.”

“And you are still alive.”

“We also admit that we have wronged the Padishah. We will repay that sin with loyalty!”

Yusuf firmly said to Rusudan, who was banging his head hard on the ground and shouting loudly.

“I have already said that I will receive the nobles’ atonement in blood. Go back, I will wait until sunset. If you do not surrender by then, the entire Akhaltsikhe will pay the price.”

“…I understand.”

Seeing Yusuf’s unyielding demeanor, Rusudan quickly rose from his seat.

There was no point in wasting time here, as it would only endanger his life.

As Rusudan lightly paid his respects and tried to leave, the Janissaries, who had received a signal from Yusuf, drew their swords.

“You alone are enough to convey the story, right?”

“Lord Rusudan!”

In an instant, swords were pointed at the necks of all his companions except for himself, and Rusudan squeezed his eyes shut and turned away at the sight of their desperate eyes.

Those who never imagined that he would abandon them like that were shocked and called out to Rusudan again, but he did not look back.

Nine lives were taken, and Akhaltsikhe was given one last chance to choose.

***

“Padishah, it’s almost time.”

The sun, which had soared high in the sky, was now leaning towards the horizon, and the red sunset was engulfing the surroundings.

With the given time slowly running out, there was no significant movement on the walls, and Yusuf raised his hand.

“Prepare for bombardment.”

“Yes, Padishah!”

With Yusuf’s command, the oxen pulling the 19-ton iron lumps moved.

The twelve Urban cannons, moving with the oxen’s screams, positioned themselves for the bombardment.

They adjusted the firing angle by stacking wood under the cannons, and it was time to wait for the sun to set.

“Shemsi Pasha, does it seem to you that I am unnecessarily taking the difficult path?”

Preparing for a siege to execute the nobles might seem like a waste of time and manpower.

Although their betrayal was infuriating, most rulers would have forgiven them after this point.

“I am sorry, but I cannot say that it does not seem so.”

“You are always honest. You still don’t see me as a prince, do you?”

“How could I, when you have grown so much that I look up to you?”

Yusuf, after exchanging light jokes with Shemsi, reached out and grasped the setting sun.

“In the future, my empire will become very large. Large enough that the sun will never set.”

A country where the sun never sets.

Until now, it was just an expression used figuratively, but with the discovery of the New World, it became an achievable goal.

If the country were to grow to that extent, the central control would inevitably weaken.

“I will not tolerate those I have grasped forgetting their place and acting out of line. And the troubles of today will be helpful then.”

“Everything will be done according to the Padishah’s will.”

Yusuf smiled at Shemsi’s reply.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to waste time unnecessarily. It seems they’ve finally made their move.”

Yusuf’s gaze turned to Akhaltsikhe.

Faint screams and shouts were carried on the dry wind, and smoke rose.

The soldiers who had filled the walls disappeared, and a louder voice became clear.

-Catch the nobles!

-Let’s catch the nobles following Mzetchabuk!

***

No matter how thick and high the walls are, they cannot stop an enemy within.

The Ottoman army, which entered through the wide-open gate, completely occupied the castle.

The new ruler’s subjects, hoping to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, locked themselves in their homes, and the soldiers who had revolted willingly disarmed.

Once security was completely secured, Yusuf entered Akhaltsikhe, and he was greeted by an old man with deep wrinkles on his face.

“Mzetchabuk, you’ve aged a lot since I last saw you.”

This wasn’t just a comment based on appearance.

The greed that had filled his eyes had scattered like the wind, and his cloudy eyes were like those of someone preparing for their end.

“Hasn’t a lot of time passed since I first met the Padishah? More than that, the foolish one the Padishah is looking for is here.”

The soldiers, who had received a signal from Mzetchabuk, brought a coffin and placed it down, then opened the lid.

Perhaps because he had been the highest authority in Samtskhe, or perhaps to use him as a sacrifice to appease Ottoman’s anger, it was a well-preserved corpse.

Even though it had been nearly ten days, decomposition hadn’t progressed much, and it clearly showed how much pain he had suffered before his death.

“He’s a pathetic figure for someone who ruined everything you worked for. My disappointment in you, who was defeated by such a man, is also great.”

“I have nothing to say.”

Rather than making excuses, he simply lowered his head.

Even if he had shown a weakness while following Yusuf’s instructions, it was his own carelessness that led to his defeat.

“What do you want me to do with them?”

At Yusuf’s question, Mzetchabuk glanced slightly behind him.

The nobles who had been captured after losing the civil war looked up with desperate faces, and among them were many children and women.

Mzetchabuk, who had received their desperate gazes, calmly said.

“Dispose of them as the Padishah sees fit.”

“Mzetchabuk!”

“Ahhh! Why!”

Curses and insults poured out at him for giving up even the last remaining chance, and some of the weaker women fainted.

As the commotion grew louder, Yusuf sharply ordered.

“Anyone who speaks from now on will be killed immediately.”

The nobles only fell silent after swords were pointed right at their necks.

“What was the reason for saying that?”

“There is no one the Padishah can take and use. They are those who did not see who the most dangerous person was, those who knew but turned a blind eye.”

“That’s right. They are not the ones I need.”

Yusuf, who was satisfied with that answer, gave an order.

“Kill all the men. The children and women will be taken as slaves to the homeland.”

-Padishah! Please save us!

The nobles were dragged away by the soldiers, and Mzetchabuk silently squeezed his eyes shut.

It was the moment when the name of Samtskhe disappeared from history, and he couldn’t bear to watch the scene with his own eyes.

“Mzetchabuk, what do you intend to do?”

“I would like to spend the rest of my life in a monastery.”

Mzetchabuk was born two years before Bayezid II and was at an age where he could die at any moment.

Perhaps he hoped to atone for his sins before death and go to heaven, but Yusuf granted the same request as in the original history.

“Very well. However, I cannot allow it in a monastery within Georgia. Is that still acceptable?”

“I am grateful for the Padishah’s grace.”

“There is nothing to be grateful for. No matter how deep your connection with me is, if you had betrayed me, you would have met the same end as them.”

Mzetchabuk disappeared, saying that he would quietly prepare to leave, and Yusuf looked down at Akhaltsikhe from the citadel.

It was the moment when the conquest of Samtskhe came to an end.

***

They had hoped that the Sultan’s anger would subside once the conquest of Samtskhe was over, but the Ottoman army, planting flags in various parts of Georgia, did not stop.

Behind Samtskhe, the Principality of Guria, which faced the Black Sea, was conquered, and Kutaisi, the capital of the Kingdom of Imereti, fell into Ottoman hands with a rebellion.

Nobles fled from all over Georgia to escape the Ottomans, and rebellions and surrenders continued.

Amidst the great chaos swirling around Georgia, a rebellion for power broke out in the easternmost Kingdom of Kakheti.

“B, Brother, why!”

“Why, you ask? An incompetent king who has brought the country to ruin must step down from his position.”

Giorgi, indifferently pulling out the sword that had been lodged in his father, Alexander I’s chest, answered his younger brother, Demetre.

Indifferently passing by his pitifully trembling brother, Giorgi said to the subordinates holding his brother.

“Take his eyes, cut off the seeds of danger.”

“Yes!”

“Brother! Brotheeer!”

Ignoring his brother’s faintly heard screams, Giorgi walked through the blood-stained palace and ordered.

“Prepare the army. I will go to Akhaltsikhe.”

At Giorgi’s decision, his subordinate said worriedly.

“He is a Sultan without mercy. He may not accept surrender.”

“That is why I am taking my father’s life as a gift. There is nothing to worry about. No matter how great a Sultan he is, he will need someone to join hands with for smooth governance.”

A foolish fox poked its head towards the tiger’s den.