Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 106

The disparity in military strength between Yusuf’s army, rampaging through Safavid lands, and the Qizilbash [Safavid soldiers known for their red headwear and loyalty to the Shia faith] led by Ismail was stark.

Having no intention of engaging in prolonged sieges, they left the cumbersome Orban cannons to Shemsi, but retained a formidable 300 cannons mounted on carts.

Moreover, the 40,000 Sipahi [Ottoman cavalry] and Janissaries [elite Ottoman infantry], armed with guns, constituted a force capable of waging a war of conquest, provided their supply lines remained secure.

However, they couldn’t afford to disregard the Qizilbash, who were lurking like hyenas, seeking any advantage, turning the situation into a tense standoff.

“Make the preparations against night raids even more thorough!”

“Stay sharp!”

For Ismail, Ottoman gunpowder weapons were a terrifying threat, but he also couldn’t afford to lose any more of his elite Qizilbash.

The Safavid Empire, barely a decade old, was constantly vulnerable to internal rebellions, and the fearsome Qizilbash were essential for suppressing them.

He was already losing sleep over the ten thousand Qizilbash lost in Trabzon, and further losses were unacceptable.

Yusuf was acutely aware of this, knowing that Ismail’s only viable option was a desperate night raid.

‘And if we are thoroughly prepared for a night raid, there’s no way they can succeed.’

Inflicting significant damage on the Ottomans with a surprise attack or burning their food supplies was Ismail’s last resort.

Yusuf and the Ottoman army were far too experienced to be caught off guard, especially knowing the enemy’s intentions.

Ismail wouldn’t dare attack the well-prepared Ottoman army; a failed night raid could easily backfire, resulting in catastrophic losses.

“He’s making himself look even weaker than if he were simply holed up in Tabriz,” Yusuf sneered, observing the Qizilbash in the distance.

They were heading towards Diyarbakir, where they had kidnapped Tazlu, skirting around Lake Van after securing Koy, effectively blocking the route to Tabriz.

All the Qizilbash had done during that time was shadow them and worry.

Arda concurred with Yusuf’s assessment but cautiously offered his opinion.

“It’s actually impressive that he’s not making any rash moves out of desperation.”

“If he couldn’t even manage that, he wouldn’t have survived this long. It’s only to be expected.”

Ismail, like a seasoned strategist, understood when to strike and when to retreat.

Looking at the aftermath of the Battle of Chaldiran [a decisive Ottoman victory in 1514], which historically plunged him into despair, the Safavid losses were only around 5,000.

Considering that the victorious Ottoman army suffered 2,000 casualties, the damage wasn’t critically significant, and one could argue that he at least knew when to cut his losses.

“But will his people, who are facing starvation because their villages have been reduced to ashes, understand that kind of strategic thinking?”

Yusuf, for one, had no intention of allowing them to understand it.

***

The Ottoman army ravaged the Safavid lands to a devastating extent.

In regions already scarred by Yusuf’s previous looting, some areas were spared the scorched-earth tactics, defying Ismail’s orders.

However, Yusuf, seeing no reason to show restraint, burned everything in sight.

Ismail, unable to endure it any longer, launched several night raids, but each time, they were detected in advance, forcing him to swallow the bitter pill of defeat.

“Shah Ismail.”

Ismail glared with bloodshot eyes at Yusuf’s army as it passed through Erzincan and entered Ottoman territory.

Ismail’s face, once revered like a god, was now contorted like a demon from hell, radiating a dark, murderous aura that instilled fear even in the Qizilbash who had shared his trials and tribulations.

“…Muhammad, what is the extent of the damage?”

“It will take at least three years to restore the northwestern lands of the kingdom. Especially the lands that suffered the same devastation as before; it’s difficult to estimate the time required.”

Upon hearing Muhammad’s report, Ismail coldly concluded.

“Abandon any attempts to restore the areas bordering the Ottomans.”

Ismail’s followers were taken aback by his words.

It was an unexpected decision, and the potential consequences, such as the displacement of refugees and the erosion of public support, immediately filled their minds.

“Is there any reason to be surprised? They will invade us again anyway, so there’s no point in wasting resources on rebuilding.”

On the surface, it seemed like a logical choice, but it came with significant drawbacks.

However, Ismail was undoubtedly aware of these issues, and his advisors simply had to obey the Shah’s commands.

“And send an envoy to Ashraf Kansuh al-Ghawri, the Mamluk Sultan [ruler of Egypt and Syria].”

“Shah Ismail, I apologize for speaking out of turn, but haven’t we already been rejected once?”

The Mamluks’ stance towards the Ottomans was pragmatic.

They kept an eye on the expanding Ottomans while also monitoring the Western fleets, and they maintained close cooperation in trade.

That was why they had previously rejected the proposal for a joint effort to overthrow the Ottomans, but Ismail, with a terrible venom in his voice, said with murderous eyes.

“Tell them this: if they don’t help us, we will cede the western territories to the Ottomans.”

“Shah Ismail?!”

Everyone was shocked by Ismail’s declaration.

Of course, it didn’t mean he would literally hand over the territory, but it was tantamount to saying that he would not actively defend it.

“Tabriz itself could be in danger.”

“If necessary, I am prepared to move the capital.”

It was a statement that revealed the depth of his resolve and the extent to which this crisis had shaken Ismail’s resolve.

Fortunately, Ismail wasn’t making these remarks out of a sense of utter defeat.

“They can’t completely conquer our Shia kingdom anyway.”

Even if the west was lost, a significant amount of territory would remain, and the Ottoman supply lines would be stretched too thin to fully subdue the Safavids.

Instead, if Yusuf became overconfident and advanced too far, Ismail was confident that he could avenge today’s humiliation.

In any case, the crucial point was that if the Ottomans occupied the western part of Safavid territory, the Mamluks would likely be their next target.

It would be like opening a direct path to the Mamluk Sultanate. The Mamluk Sultan would understand this perfectly.

“In the end, the Mamluks will have no choice but to join forces with us in order to survive.”

“…I will clearly convey the Shah’s determination to the Mamluk Sultan.”

“Even if it’s disgusting, it’s acceptable to seek help from the pig-like Venetians. Be sure to bring in the Mamluks.”

Muhammad received the order with a heavy heart, especially the part about forming an alliance with the Mamluks even if it meant begging for assistance from the Venetians, who had broken their promises and contributed to the current predicament.

Self-made individuals are typically proud, especially Ismail, who founded the country at a young age.

He had already demonstrated remarkable restraint by sparing the lives of the Venetian envoys, but now he was willing to swallow his pride and prioritize his interests.

“Let’s go; we must prepare for the upcoming battle with the Ottomans.”

It was the moment when Ismail finally shed his arrogance.

***

It had only been a month since they had stirred up the Safavids, but the constant need to prepare for night raids had taken a tremendous toll.

They hadn’t engaged in a single major battle, but by the time they reached near Trabzon, the soldiers were so exhausted that they resembled a defeated army.

Still, Yusuf had inflicted irreparable damage on the Safavids, making the hardship worthwhile, and he had gained considerable notoriety.

On the other hand, Ismail’s authority, having witnessed the devastation firsthand, had diminished, and an ominous atmosphere pervaded the damaged regions.

“From now on, it’s up to Hassan, isn’t it?”

“Since he is the person Padishah [Ottoman Sultan] has chosen, he will not disappoint.”

“Of course, he shouldn’t.”

Hassan’s talent, which Yusuf had recognized through their conversations, lay more in agitation and fabrication than in traditional intelligence gathering.

Yusuf had set the stage, and Hassan, driven by a strong desire for revenge, would take care of the rest.

Yusuf, having inflicted significant damage on the Safavids without a single major battle following the conquest of Georgia, arrived at the almost completely restored Trabzon Castle and was greeted by a massive crowd.

There was no boisterous cheering.

Only silent reverence for the Padishah.

The tens of thousands of people who had gathered to welcome the Padishah, who had achieved a great victory, extended to the Trabzon Citadel, where they knelt and worshiped in complete silence.

The overwhelming reverence was enough to stir emotions that had been dormant due to his experiences, and Yusuf gripped the reins tightly.

‘Was this the scene I truly desired?’

After becoming Sultan, he had adopted the goals set by the system as his own, but compared to the days when he struggled to survive as Sultan, they felt more like a bucket list.

Perhaps he would have been more driven if he had hoped to travel to modern times through the options offered as rewards.

However, for Yusuf, who had already committed to living as the Sultan of Osman, such rewards were meaningless and could be abandoned at any time.

The current scene awakened a hidden desire that had been dormant in the Sultan’s life, which had been operating on autopilot.

“Arda, I think I truly love this empire.”

“Padishah?”

“This is a strange realization.”

It’s not as if his life had been particularly happy since becoming Yusuf.

He had constantly battled the fear of being killed by his brothers and had repeatedly faced life-threatening situations.

Having been thrust into an impossible situation, he had always spoken of ‘my empire,’ but he hadn’t felt a deep connection to it.

No, he had thought he didn’t.

“At the very least, I want my people to live peaceful lives.”

It might be a selfish desire, but he didn’t possess enough love for humanity to work for the happiness of all mankind, nor did he have the ability to do so.

However, he simply believed that, with his abilities, he could improve the lives of the people under his rule.

“I hope they don’t starve to death, and I hope they don’t live in fear of enemy attacks.”

It was the life that most people living in this era dreamed of.

It was an era when even humble wishes were difficult to fulfill, so he wanted to create such a country even more.

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

“Yes, it must be done according to my will.”

The more he considered it, the more he realized that it was not an easy goal.

He had to instill fear to the point where no one would dare to make the empire an enemy, and he had to fix numerous internal issues.

It might have been easier to wage war against monsters like the ever-threatening Ismail or Charles V [Holy Roman Emperor], who would soon inherit a vast empire.

However, he couldn’t resist the urge to try anyway.

“I see Padishah, who has achieved a great victory.”

“Ah! Aba!” [Father in Turkish]

Ayshe and Hatice knelt down and greeted Yusuf, and Hasna, recognizing her father as much as she could, waved her hands excitedly.

Hugging Hasna, whose chubby cheeks were plump, Yusuf said to his two women.

“Let’s go back to Constantinople. We have a lot to do in the future.”

Ayshe felt her heart pounding as she saw the green eyes, which had once held boredom and coldness, now shining brightly as they had when she was young.

Ayshe, more delighted by Yusuf’s transformation than by the prospect of entering the heart of the empire as a concubine, replied with a radiant smile.

“I understand. I will prepare to leave.”

Yusuf, having newly awakened to ambition, foreshadowed the coming turmoil within the empire.