Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 125

The Stage for War is Set (3)

Maintaining a buffer state is an extremely strategic move.

The benefits of not sharing a border are deemed greater than the advantages gained from occupying a weak buffer state.

This was why the Mamluks, having amassed their forces in Aleppo, were taking a relatively relaxed and observant stance.

According to the plan, Dulkadir, who was supposed to strike at the back of the Ottomans as they attacked the Safavids, would be attacked first by the Mamluks.

However, as if aware of this, the Ottomans swallowed both buffer states before the Safavids, directly bordering the Ottoman Empire.

It was like a fire had fallen on their feet.

“Did the Ottoman Sultan truly say that?”

In the inner castle of the Aleppo Citadel, all the mobilized power holders gathered.

Salima, kneeling before the Mamluk Sultan, lowered her head even further under the piercing gaze of the governors ruling each city and the high-ranking Mamluks.

“He said so. He presented the paper of confession and even ignored the statement that the home country would not simply overlook this matter.”

To be precise, he added a threat to remember her face clearly, but that story was not important.

Considering the grim atmosphere, it was fortunate that it ended with a threat.

The Mamluk Sultan, Ashraf Kansuh al-Ghawri, stared intently at the two pieces of paper in his hand.

There was no need to bother verifying the handwriting.

It was obvious that the one from the traitorous Ramazan’s Mahmud Bey, not to mention the blood-stained one from Bozkurt, were written by the individuals themselves.

“Everyone, give your opinions. What should we do?”

At the Sultan’s question, a voice of condemnation immediately burst out.

“Of course, we must retaliate! This is an act of completely ignoring us!”

“He is as greedy as a pig, not even thinking of those who inherited the blood of the former Sultan. We must not let this go on.”

Bordering the Ottoman Empire, a sense of crisis, distinctly different from before, washed over them.

Until now, they had inwardly hoped that the Ottomans would stop their greed at the Safavid line, which had been causing constant friction, but this incident completely shattered that expectation.

Since they were forcibly creating justifications, their greed would eventually reach the Mamluks.

However, not everyone was in favor of attacking.

“While I agree with the anger! O Sultan. They have established an impregnable defense line by occupying two countries. An attack is difficult.”

“Not only can we not attack the land of Ramazan beyond the Nur Mountains, but the defense line of Aintab is also difficult to overcome. Please reconsider!”

As opposing opinions emerged, immediate backlash erupted among those who advocated for the attack.

“Are you saying that we, with our powerful Mamluk cavalry, will be defeated by them?!”

“I mean, let’s be realistic! With such a large difference in troop strength, how can such ignorant talk of attacking come out?!”

“Ignorant?!”

“That’s right! Even if we win, the damage to our forces will be extreme. Who would benefit from such a battle?!”

As shouts erupted due to the divided opinions, the Sultan, who frowned, roared.

“Everyone, be quiet!”

Silence descended upon the resounding voice, and the Sultan, frowning, made a conclusion.

“We will not confront the Ottoman army before the Safavids. But we cannot stand by and watch the Safavids be defeated.”

There was no need to struggle to cross the already established defense line of Aintab.

They could join the Safavids by crossing the 2680km-long Euphrates River, which flows from the eastern highlands of Anatolia, past Aintab and Baghdad, to the Persian Gulf.

“We will also establish a defense line in Aleppo and lead reinforcements eastward. Prepare the necessary supplies.”

“I will obey!”

It would be an expeditionary force, but the good thing was that since they were passing through the territory of their ally, the Safavids, they could purchase the necessary food locally as they moved.

Perhaps thinking it was a reasonable decision, the vassals received the order, and the Sultan gestured to Salima, who had returned as a messenger.

“I have something to say. Wait for a moment.”

Leaving only Salima, who was singled out, the vassals departed, and the Sultan asked the remaining Salima.

“What was the strength of the Ottoman army like? Tell me honestly.”

“…It was overwhelmingly different from our forces. Especially the number of firearms.”

“I see.”

Salima, who had been contemplating for a moment to the Sultan nodding heavily, steeled her heart and said.

“It’s not too late now. We must bring in arquebuses [early type of portable gun]. It is the only way to win!”

“Stop!”

The Sultan, who roared, spoke as if growling.

“Who told you to give your opinion! I have no intention of bringing in additional arquebuses!”

“But, Sultan!”

“I told you to stop. Now, go back!”

Salima, who had offered her opinion because she thought it was necessary, pressed her lips tightly at the cold reaction and came out.

Returning to her assigned quarters, Salima lay on the bed, organizing her complex thoughts without realizing how much time had passed.

She thought that introducing arquebuses was necessary no matter how she thought about it, and she tried to close her eyes, thinking that she should offer her opinion again the next day.

Knock knock knock!

-Open the door. I have something to say because of your mission as a messenger.

Salima opened the door, wondering who had come to visit at this late hour when it was already dark outside.

What she saw through the opened door was the gleam of a sword under the moonlight.

She felt the sword piercing through her body along with a burning pain, and Salima struggled to grab the hand holding the sword, muttering.

“Wh, why?”

“…Why did you say unnecessary things to the Sultan?”

Salima, realizing what the unnecessary things were by turning her head that was not working well due to the bleeding, felt like her strength was draining away.

It was a visit from a Mamluk whose position would be threatened by the introduction of arquebuses.

Salima, who collapsed to the floor with the blade slipping out, stared blankly at the door that had been slammed shut.

And the monstrous Ottoman Sultan, who had displayed his troops as if showing off, came to her mind.

‘That’s why he looked so carefree. He knew that the Mamluks, who were vested interests, would block the introduction of firearms.’

Even as her vision blurred, she felt a chill down her spine at his monstrous judgment.

The Mamluk Sultan, who had vehemently opposed the introduction of arquebuses, probably knew that this would happen to her.

‘No, maybe the Ottoman Sultan knew it too.’

Salima breathed her last, recalling the cold green eyes that were cold until the end.

***

The supply line was significantly shortened by occupying Ramazan.

Not to mention using the road that passes through the Nur Mountains and leads to Marash.

Assuming that supplies are transported to Kayseri through the Cilician Gates [mountain pass in the Taurus Mountains] in preparation for the Mamluk attack, the land route is shortened by at least 200km compared to the existing route.

Although about a month was wasted, the result was worth the time.

Before advancing to Diyarbakir, which was Safavid territory, there was a movement between Yusuf’s main force and the troops in Aintab.

This was because there was no need to have many Sipahi [Ottoman cavalry soldiers], who were cavalry, in Aintab, where the main task was defensive.

“Beylerbey [governor-general].”

“Yes, my Padishah [Ottoman sovereign].”

Yusuf comforted Dukakinzade Ahmed Pasha, the Beylerbey of Anatolia.

“The top priority is to protect the area around Aintab and stabilize the supply route. The outcome of the war depends on it, so don’t be disappointed that the opportunity to gain merit has flown away.”

“How dare I have such a mind?”

That’s what he said, but it wasn’t that he had no regrets at all.

To take the position of Grand Vizier [chief minister], he had to gain achievements through this war.

As if knowing all these thoughts, Yusuf patted him on the shoulder.

“This war will not end overnight, so don’t be impatient. You will have plenty of opportunities.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“And you don’t necessarily have to move defensively. There is a high possibility that the Mamluk forces will move to support the Safavids.”

If the Safavids were destroyed, the next would be the Mamluks.

They would definitely move unless they were planning to be defeated piecemeal.

“If it seems like you can break through the defense of Aleppo, you can move at your discretion. But!”

The hand that went up on Dukakinzade’s shoulder was filled with strength.

“If your ambition causes unnecessary troop consumption, you will have to take responsibility for it.”

“…I will definitely keep that in mind.”

The vassals knew well that Yusuf was the kind of person who would even behead the Grand Vizier if he ruined the game with actions that were worse than doing nothing.

The Great Padishah was never merciful to his vassals. From some point on, he was even more generous to his subjects.

Yusuf, who passed Dukakinzade, got on his horse, and the main force began to march towards Diyarbakir.

Another tedious march began, and Yusuf said to the Grand Vizier, who was moving alongside him.

“Grand Vizier, even if it’s rude, say anything.”

The words ‘even if it’s rude’ were an enormous privilege.

It was a privilege that he could receive because he was the Grand Vizier and, privately, his father-in-law, and he was one of the few people who could take advantage of the opportunity to offer advice.

Because if it were someone else, they wouldn’t even be able to speak properly for fear that a pole would be placed where their head should be, even if the game was set up for them.

As if he had something to say, the Grand Vizier opened his mouth.

“I believe that all of Padishah’s actions have a valid meaning, but I think your dignity would increase if you welcomed the envoy with appropriate courtesy.”

“Courtesy, huh.”

He had done more than just being rude, he had even sent the envoy to Allah, so he expected this story to come up at least once.

“There is a story like this. In response to the request to teach etiquette, he replied to treat the elder brother like a father, the younger brother like a son, and the friend like a sibling.”

He didn’t know if it still existed, but it was one of the Arab proverbs.

Yusuf continued in a playful voice.

“So I am treating the envoy with the dignity of a friend.”

What kind of place was the Ottoman royal family?

They could poison their father for the Sultan’s seat, they had to kill all their brothers to survive, and they encouraged an inheritance war where only one son remained.

“Isn’t it fortunate that I didn’t kill them all even though I treated them like brothers?”

“Padishah…”

Looking at the Grand Vizier who was lamenting as if he was devastated, Yusuf burst into a light laugh.

“I’m kidding. I’ll take care of it according to the other party, so don’t worry too much. And wouldn’t the envoys who come in the future adapt to me?”

If they didn’t want to die.

No matter how much the Grand Vizier was, he could only advise, not force, so he just accepted the story and changed the subject.

“If you allow the Beylerbey to attack the Mamluks, wouldn’t it be better to deal with the Mamluks before the Safavids?”

“No, Isma’il must be killed first before the Mamluks.”

“If I may be so bold, I don’t understand why Padishah is so wary of him.”

This kind of question was bound to arise.

The current Isma’il was completely different from the original history, where he had won consecutive battles and expanded the Shiite forces to the point where the Ottomans felt threatened.

If you compare his record against Yusuf, he has never won, and his support base is precarious as the west is burning.

It was puzzling to consider Isma’il more dangerous than the Mamluks.

“I know Isma’il best. The current Isma’il is more dangerous than the Mamluk army, which is like a scarecrow.”

The current Isma’il, who has learned defeat, is more threatening than the original history, who did not know defeat.

Yusuf fiddled with his gun tied to his horse.

“Even if there are casualties, Isma’il must be killed this time.”

Because if he missed him, he would return as a bigger monster.

The success or failure of this expedition depends on Isma’il’s head.

***

A small city where Armenians and Persians, who claim to be descendants of Noah, coexist.

The smell of fishy blood was scattered in Yerevan.

“Shah [Persian title for king], Shah! Why are you doing this?!”

Around the man who was trembling and desperately shouting, his family and servants were brutally killed.

His wife and daughters had long been dragged away by the Qizilbash [Shia militant group], and blood dripped from the sword in Isma’il’s hand.

“Are you asking for the reason?”

“Y, yes.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t know that you were in league with Ottoman spies?”

Isma’il, who aimed his sword at the neck of the shocked man, ordered his subordinate.

“Drag him away. Go and kill him by slicing off his flesh as an example.”

“Yes, Shah!”

“S, save me! I was wrong!”

As the man disappeared, dragged away like a beast being taken to the slaughterhouse, Isma’il wiped the blood from his sword with a rag.

“The rats that have sneaked in have been running around very diligently. To the point of being disgusting.”

He said it as if he had easily found them, but it was difficult to catch those who had fallen into the hands of spies.

Even the man who had just been dragged away would not have been caught if he had not moved hastily due to impatience.

“Even though I only caught the ones with long tails, there was never a day when blood didn’t dry. I don’t know how many are still hidden.”

“But, it will be enough to warn with those who have been killed so far. They won’t move rashly.”

At the words of his vassal Ustajlu, Isma’il put the sword with the blue blade exposed into its sheath.

“Now, all that’s left is to offer Yusuf, that bastard’s head to Allah.”