Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 119

The Preparations Are Complete (3)

If someone’s memories are mixed with another, can they still be considered the same person before and after?

The memories of two humans, so vivid it was as if they’d lost the ability to forget, were mixed, and Yusuf became neither a modern man nor an Ottoman.

He analyzed like a modern man and acted like an Ottoman prince, so now even he couldn’t define himself as one or the other.

Situations like the memories of a modern man surfacing, rather than just information, felt quite peculiar.

‘Four children, huh? When I was a modern man, I never imagined I would have four children.’

Yusuf thought as he looked at his son, Şehzade [Ottoman prince] Kasım, wrapped in a cloth and held in Nigar’s arms.

He remembered answering a friend’s question about how many children he wanted, saying at most two.

It’s not that he misses that life. He had resolved to abandon his attachments to the modern world.

It was just a novel sentiment.

“Papa, Papa.”

Yusuf, who had Hasna nestled on his lap as she whined, patted the child’s head a few times.

As her blonde hair, resembling her mother’s, was slightly disheveled by his touch, Hasna smiled brightly.

The thought that he might have taken a silly picture if this were modern times crossed his mind, and Yusuf glanced around.

Fatima was watching Yusuf with Hasna on his lap, wearing a benevolent smile.

Aisha was having a quiet conversation next to Mehmet, who was reading a thick book.

Hatice was watching Murat, who seemed unable to stay still and was kicking his legs, with stern eyes.

Even Nigar was looking at Kasım, who was munching on his lips, with affection and worry.

There were a few more women present, including Gülfer, but those who could be called family were all gathered here.

“It wouldn’t be bad to have a family portrait painted later.”

Such a thought suddenly occurred to him, but considering that drawing people could be seen as idolatry in Islam, it was a radical idea.

Even Fatima, who had experienced all sorts of hardships, looked surprised at this remark.

“When are you thinking of doing that?”

“It would be good when this war is over.”

There was no time to leisurely paint portraits right now, and those gathered here knew this well.

They knew that the Safavid envoy who had come a while ago had been beheaded.

This was an act no different from a declaration of war, and Aisha carefully asked, recalling that time.

“Padishah [Ottoman sovereign], I apologize, but may I ask a rude question as a woman?”

“What is it?”

“In my humble opinion, I have heard that the safety of envoys is usually guaranteed even during wartime. But why did you act that way?”

She wasn’t wrong. Even during wartime, a minimum channel of communication is usually kept open.

Whether it’s to urge surrender or to make a truce, you need to be able to talk to the other side.

“There is a reason. During the Mamluk era, it was to pressure Venice.”

Venice would have been terrified by the Sultan’s actions of cutting off the envoy’s fingers. Just hearing the story made him seem like a madman.

What else would you call it if not crazy to cut off the fingers of an envoy from the same Islamic country for saying something that displeased him?

Of course, the Mamluks would have been displeased anyway if the Ottomans attacked the Safavids. There was no reason to act cautiously.

“Then what is the reason for beheading the envoy from the Safavids this time?”

Of course, cutting off fingers and beheading are completely different matters.

At this question, Yusuf’s lips curled into a smile.

“It was to piss off that Ismail guy.”

“…Padishah?”

Aisha, who never expected such an answer, looked embarrassed, and Yusuf burst into laughter.

“He needs to be pissed off so he doesn’t stay cooped up in his castle but jumps out.”

In the original history, Ismail, obsessed with chivalry, engaged in a full-scale war with Selim and completely failed, but he would likely be thoroughly defensive when facing him.

If Ismail couldn’t stand the perceived atrocities and jumped out, it would be very helpful for Yusuf.

‘Of course, he’s not stupid enough to jump out just because one envoy died.’

To be honest, it was something he did thinking it would be good if it happened, and if not, oh well.

Either way, in this war, even if he didn’t gain much territory from the Safavids, he had to take Ismail’s life.

Ismail had learned cunning through repeated defeats, and who knew what kind of monster he would become if left alone.

So there was a need to nip that bud in the bud, and there would be no more envoys coming and going.

“Don’t worry. I’m handling the envoys according to the situation. Didn’t the one from Venice return with all his limbs intact?”

Of course, he returned looking disgusted as if he had a terrible experience, but he wasn’t lying.

His body was intact.

“More than that, winter is slowly passing.”

It was still midwinter with snow falling in various parts of the empire, but spring was just around the corner.

The war with the fate of three nations at stake was fast approaching.

***

It seemed that cutting off the Mamluk envoy’s fingers had become quite a topic in the Mamluk Sultanate.

The new envoy who came had no rings on his fingers, and not even common ornaments could be seen on his body.

He was trying hard to appear calm, but his clenched hands, as if to hide his fingers, clearly showed how frightened he was.

“Not the same guy as last time, a new one came as an envoy.”

“That’s right. Aziz Yarbay has stepped down from all positions.”

“Too bad. He still had six fingers left to cut off.”

The envoy, who couldn’t possibly take Yusuf’s words as empty threats, forced a smile and got straight to the point.

“Sultan Ashraf Qansuh al-Ghawri said that those who follow the will of Muhammad should put aside past feelings and seek a path of coexistence. For the sake of peace in Islam.”

“Coexistence and peace? What a joke.”

Yusuf sneered.

Coexistence and peace, good words, but in this era where allies often become enemies overnight, they are just empty words.

Yusuf got up from his seat and walked to the envoy.

“Don’t talk nonsense. When those Safavid bastards invaded Dulkadir, what did you guys do?”

“…We were at war with the Portuguese, so we didn’t have the 余裕 [leisure/capacity].”

“Then when those Safavid bastards attacked Trabzon, did you guys even say a word? Did you even pretend to stop them?”

They wouldn’t have. As much as the Mamluks feared the Ottomans, they probably clapped and cheered inwardly.

The envoy, who had been biting his lip at Yusuf’s reproachful words, said in a chilling voice.

“This decision was made by the Padishah. Won’t you regret it?”

“You guys will regret it. Go back and tell him. It’s okay to do whatever you want.”

Yusuf stared at the envoy for a moment before turning away.

In the end, the Mamluks had turned into enemies, but this was already foreseen, so he wasn’t afraid.

Seeing the envoy safely leaving the palace, the Grand Vizier said with a smile as if to lighten the mood.

“It’s fortunate that you sent the envoy safely this time.”

“It’s not like I’m always acting aggressively. I’m just acting according to the situation.”

If necessary, he could cut off the Mamluk envoy’s head right there, but conversely, if it wasn’t necessary, he could overlook some rudeness.

Unlike the Safavids, the Mamluks were fellow Sunni Muslims, and since exchanges had been going on for a long time, there was no good reason to behead the envoy.

“And you have to deal with those kinds of guys out of sight. Who would desperately look for a ship that disappeared in the Mediterranean? They would think it disappeared in a storm.”

“…Padishah?!”

Horror was etched on the Grand Vizier’s face, and Yusuf wore a sly smile.

“Just kidding, just kidding. I don’t want to bother going to kill him for no reason.”

“Please don’t disturb this old man’s heart.”

“You seem too healthy to call yourself an old man yet, stop exaggerating.”

Yusuf, who had been joking lightly, erased the smile from his lips and said.

“Grand Vizier, the Mamluks have turned into enemies as well. How many troops are estimated?”

“I heard that the Mamluk mobilization has already begun. I estimate that about 60,000 will be mobilized. Among them, about 5,000 will be Mamluks.”

Mamluk originally meant slave soldiers who had converted to Islam, but as their power grew, the Mamluk leader deposed the Sultan and established the Mamluk dynasty.

After that, Mamluk became the word for the elite cavalry of the Egyptian Mamluk dynasty.

One had to perfectly master magic, spear fighting, swordsmanship, and archery to become a Mamluk, and it was no exaggeration to say that they were the strongest military group in the Middle Ages.

‘But that was before firearms came out.’

There is no need to fear cavalry as long as they are armed with firearms.

“If we exclude the 5,000 Mamluks, the rest will be Bedouin nomads.”

“That’s right. You can assume that most of the enemy’s forces are cavalry.”

If the Safavids mobilized approximately 40,000 or more soldiers, a large-scale war would break out with nearly 200,000 soldiers clashing on both sides.

It was a larger scale than any war he had experienced so far.

“Grand Vizier, the future of our empire depends on this war. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right.”

If they lost this war, they wouldn’t even dare to venture out of the Anatolian Peninsula.

It was like a huge gamble where even the strong support of the people they were receiving would be shaken to its roots.

“We have finished the preparations we can make. We couldn’t have prepared more perfectly than this.”

The preparations that could be made within the Ottoman Empire were perfect, to the point that Selim from the original history would be envious.

Then there was only one thing left.

‘To be the one who wins the stakes in this gamble.’

All that remained was to seize victory.

***

The winter cold had passed.

The frozen streams began to flow with water under the thin ice, and the fields were dyed green.

It was a landscape befitting spring, the season when all things revive, but for humans full of desire, it was just a good season to take the lives of others.

-Heeeeeigh!

The horses carrying cavalry armed with chainmail moved forward, and the Janissaries [elite Ottoman infantry] gripping their guns marched with determination.

“You stupid bastards! Push it up properly!”

The cannons loaded on carts were lined up and loaded onto ships docked at the port, and the ships filled with cannons began to sail to a location close to the assembly point.

The huge city of Kostantiniyye [Istanbul] moved so busily that it was suffocating, and the people of the capital held their breath at the stern spirit of the soldiers.

They knew how important this moment was.

-Ppooooo!

Along with the sound of horns ringing in succession, the music of the military band echoed.

With cheerful music, the Sultan’s flag that had been flying from Topkapi Palace was lowered.

This meant that the place where the Sultan would stay for a while was not Topkapi Palace, and the Sultan’s flag fluttered above the huge carrack [large merchant ship] that could carry a thousand people.

“It’s a scene I’ve always seen.”

Yusuf, who had climbed onto the deck of the carrack, scanned the capital.

The shouts of the people wishing for victory were heard through the sound of the military band, and a large crowd flocked around the port to see the departing ship.

In the eyes of those gathered, there was not even a hint of worry that they might lose.

They were just filled with the expectation of wishing for an obvious victory and wondering what achievements the Sultan would make.

It was an emotion so clear that it could be burdensome for an ordinary person, but.

“Burden is something felt by those who have defeat in mind.”

There is no need to feel burdened because he is confident in victory.

All he has to do is meet their expectations.

Yusuf gave the order to Kemal Reis.

“Set sail.”

“Set sail! Set sail!”

The sound of repeating the order echoed through the ship, and the heavy carrack began to leave the port.

The real war had begun.