Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 127

The cannons roared (2)

Blood flowed down from the execution platform like tears.

Executions were usually a spectacle.

People would watch the condemned scream for mercy, tremble while seeking God, and hurl curses at the crowd before them.

The greatest amusement of the time was mocking the sight of a dull axe blade repeatedly striking the neck, and the condemned desperately clinging to life until the very last moment.

However, the citizens gathered in the square couldn’t utter a word.

Unlike the usual executions that felt like someone else’s problem, the hundred or so corpses piled up in front of them instilled a chilling fear: they might end up like that at any moment.

Thud!

Nuri Ali Khalifa slammed the blood-dripping axe onto the ground.

Nuri Ali shouted loudly at the citizens, who flinched as if the axe were falling on their own necks.

“Allah does not love those who attack. It is written in the Quran that you should challenge your enemies, but do not initiate aggression.”

“La ilaha illallah Muhammadun rasulullah.”

The cheerleaders proclaimed the Shahada [the Islamic declaration of faith]: there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger.

This declaration, later inscribed on the flag of Saudi Arabia, was one of the five pillars of Islam, so everyone recognized it.

Nuri Ali raised the Quran with his blood-stained hands.

“But look at those treacherous Ottomans! They brutally murdered the Shah’s envoy, who sought peace, and used Satan’s forked tongue to sow distrust among you.”

It didn’t matter that Ismail had been more actively engaged in wars of conquest than anyone else and had attacked Trabzon first.

What was needed for incitement wasn’t truth, but emotion.

“How can you forget that the fertile plains were burned twice by the Sultan, who blasphemed the Quran and pretended to be a false prophet? Don’t fall for his tricks!”

“They deserve death!”

“Those pigs! They have no shame!”

As the cheerleaders hurled insults, a wave of agreement arose, and Nuri Ali delivered his final words.

“Do not forget! If you fall into the hands of the devilish Ottomans, this place will soon become hell!”

Leaving behind a strange cry that seemed to mix despair and determination, Nuri Ali’s face hardened as he descended from the execution platform.

He suppressed the fear of death among the citizens with violence while executing dangerous elements, but this was only a temporary solution.

They could waver at any time when real death approached.

“What about the man who came from Elazig?”

“He has been brought into the fortress.”

Nuri Ali nodded and entered the deepest room in the fortress with a heavy heart. There, he saw a man clutching a sword and constantly looking around.

Judging from the rags he wore instead of armor and his constant trembling with anxiety, Nuri Ali could easily gauge the man’s fear.

Nuri Ali approached the man and covered the hand gripping the sword hilt with his own.

“There is nothing to fear. Unlike Elazig, this place is safe behind its high walls.”

“R, really?”

“I swear to Allah, there is no enemy here who will harm you. Tell me what you saw and heard there.”

Only then did the survivor calm down and release the hilt, opening his mouth with a trembling voice.

“There… there was a roar. The walls shook several times with a tremendous roar, as if the sky was crying. I turned my head as something passed by, but my comrade was gone, and only flesh remained!”

“…So?”

“The high walls collapsed, and they began to loot. I rode a horse that was nearby and fled here! They are devils! Devils! We must escape! This place will soon collapse too!”

The soldiers guarding the perimeter grabbed the survivor, who was causing a commotion, and Nuri Ali coldly watched the scene before drawing the survivor’s sword.

The survivor, impaled by his own sword, coughed up bubbling blood.

“M, Menderes…”

“I said there was no enemy to harm you, but I didn’t say there wouldn’t be allies to kill you. Clean it up.”

Nuri Ali threw down the blood-soaked sword and gritted his teeth.

“Such dirty tricks.”

A soldier who wasn’t in his right mind escaping safely to this place from a looted city?

That couldn’t happen without someone’s help.

Fear is contagious. Keeping that guy alive would only spread the fear that even high walls are useless.

Watching the corpse being dragged away, Nuri Ali let out a heavy breath.

“I’m tired.”

He seemed to be infected with fear himself.

Four days later, the Ottoman army, following the path taken by the survivor, appeared outside the Diyarbakir Fortress.

***

Diyarbakir, like Elazig, was heavily influenced by the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, with heavy rain and humidity in winter, but hot and dry summers.

As it was already June, the stream of the Tigris River flowing west of the Diyarbakir Fortress had narrowed compared to before.

Yusuf, who had mercilessly trampled the plains that would have been filled with farmers tending to crops to be harvested in the fall just last year, looked up at the fortress and joked.

“Grand Vizier, anyone would think I’ve already captured that fortress. What do you think?”

“Since it’s similar to the gate of Elazig, which you conquered, I suppose you might think so.”

“Hmm, to think there’s another person with such refined tastes. The world is truly wide.”

Hanging high above the eastern gate were over a hundred poles with heads impaled on them.

Of course, it was half a joke. He did stick heads on the collapsed walls of Elazig, but it wasn’t like he was putting them there because they looked good like flower arrangements.

It was to shift the blame for the looting onto those whose heads were displayed and to serve as a warning that resistance would result in death like theirs.

“I wonder why they hung them up. Grand Vizier, should we send an envoy to negotiate surrender?”

“It’s a formality, so wouldn’t it be better to do so?”

“A formality, huh.”

He wasn’t one to fuss over formalities, and judging by the atmosphere emanating from the fortress, it would be strange if the head of anyone sent as an envoy didn’t come flying back via catapult.

Yusuf, who would normally have started with cannons, asked the Janissaries [elite Ottoman infantry] looking at him with earnest eyes.

“Is there anyone willing to go?”

“Entrust it to me, Padishah [Ottoman Sultan]!”

“Following the Padishah’s command to go to Allah’s embrace is not to be feared!”

Yusuf raised his hand towards the Janissaries who volunteered.

The reason for volunteering for a suicide mission wasn’t loyalty alone.

For a Janissary infantryman to become a Kapikulu Sipahi [elite Ottoman cavalry], a member of the elite cavalry, especially the Silahdar [Sultan’s personal guard] who guarded the Sultan, they had to survive a suicide mission.

Even if they transferred, they would be treated as traitors by both the Janissaries and the Kapikulu Sipahi, but they could gain great wealth and fame, so many volunteered.

Yusuf pointed to the one who spoke first.

“You, go and come back once.”

“I will obey your command!”

The Janissary, who had taken a respectful bow, mounted a horse bearing a white flag and arrived in front of the Diyarbakir Fortress gate, and the massive gate opened.

After a short time, the gate reopened, and the horse returned panting, without its rider.

“Tsk, he ended up dying and coming back.”

The Janissary hairstyle was similar to a queue, leaving only a tuft of hair on the top of the head—a handle left to be grabbed when they died in battle.

The hair was tied to the horse’s side, and only the head returned. The Janissaries, who had retrieved the head with grim faces, discovered a piece of paper in its mouth.

As the soldiers looked at the paper with strange expressions, Yusuf gestured.

“Bring it here. What’s the content that you’re looking at it like that?”

Yusuf also made a strange face when he saw the paper. There wasn’t a single letter on it.

Only a face.

Yusuf called Hassan, who had been pushed to the corner by his subordinates.

“Hassan, you’ve made a name for yourself. Wandering around the Safavid [Persian dynasty] with your bare face, you’re bound to get stabbed.”

Hassan made a sullen expression as he received the portrait of his face, and Yusuf patted him on the shoulder before turning his head back to the fortress gate.

Judging from the fact that they sent back Hassan’s portrait, those who died seemed to have wanted to side with the Ottomans.

He wasn’t sorry. It was their fault for not hiding their teeth properly.

However.

“I’m angry. How dare they kill the envoy I sent. Prepare for battle. We must get blood price.”

The ultimate embodiment of hypocrisy, who was okay with killing but couldn’t stand others killing, was furious.

Soon, the drums signaling the start of the battle sounded.

***

The drums that echoed across the plains like heartbeats soon turned into the shouts of the battlefield.

-Kwaang!

The cannons lined up along the long walls spewed acrid smoke along with explosions.

Hundreds of cast iron lumps flew through the sky and fell into Diyarbakir Fortress with a thud.

The sight of black cannonballs falling like rain from the sky felt surreal, and the citizens stared blankly at the scene.

And then, disaster unfolded.

-Kugugung! Thud!

-R, run away!

The buildings hit by the cannonballs, which had tremendous weight, were pierced and collapsed, and those who were hit by the cannonballs while fleeing clutched their mangled bodies and screamed.

The terrified crowd trampled on people who were trapped under collapsed buildings and waving their hands for help, and a woman who had lost her husband hugged her child and sought Allah in the corner.

The chaos on the walls was no less than inside the fortress.

“Uwaaaaaaak!”

“Catapults! Fire the catapults! What are you standing there like fools! You bastards!”

“Don’t run away! Those who run away will die by this sword first!”

The soldiers who fell from the walls, which were shaking as if there had been an earthquake due to the cannonballs, rolled down the slopes with their limbs twisted.

A soldier who was hit in the eye by a fragment of the wall shattered by a cannonball clutched his eye and screamed.

All the commander could do was order the catapults to be fired at the enemies spewing acrid smoke and threaten the terrified soldiers.

The Ottoman army firing cannonballs from below the fortress was in a similar state of chaos.

The artillerymen reloaded by stuffing gunpowder and cannonballs into the muzzles, and they adjusted the direction of the muzzles while thinking about the trajectory of the cannonballs that had just been fired.

“So, you ink-smelling, plague-ridden human! How much more do I have to raise it!”

“J, just wait a moment! Do you think this can be calculated quickly?! The wind seems a bit strong, so I have to rethink the parabola!”

“What parabola are you talking about?! The cannonballs fly straight and then drop straight down?!

“Are you blind?! It flies in a parabola! The Padishah also said so!”

Ear-splitting sounds due to the explosions and harsh coughs every time they spoke due to the toxic smoke, but the scholar and the artilleryman raised their voices and fought.

Except for a few with excellent observation skills, it was a time when people thought that cannonballs flew straight and then fell vertically to the ground, and it was a debate that had been going on since Elazig.

A black shadow suddenly dropped in front of the eyes of the two who were bickering.

-Kugung!

-C, catapult! Shields! Raise the shields!

The scholar shouted in a fit of rage as he realized that the boulder that had fallen in front of him had been fired from a catapult.

“What are you doing not shooting?! Just raise it roughly and shoot! Just shoot!”

It was close to a farce, but it was a natural reaction for the scholar, whose mind had turned white at the fact that he had almost died.

As cannonballs continued to fly in succession, the soldiers of Diyarbakir gritted their teeth and moved stones.

Most of the boulders fired from the catapults did not reach the enemy due to the difference in range, but that was all they could do right now.

The hands moving the stones became tattered, and the battle continued to the point where the smoke rising from the plains covered the walls on the hill.

The accident happened around this time.

-Kwang!

-The cannon exploded! The cannon exploded! Cease fire! Cease fire!

The cannon that was being fired could not withstand the heat and exploded, and the soldiers around it were blown to pieces.

The Janissary Agha [commander of the Janissaries], the commander-in-chief of the Janissaries, spoke to Yusuf with a stiff face.

“Padishah. The cannon seems to be overheated.”

“Alright. Move the fired cannons back.”

As Yusuf’s order fell, the battle wagons carrying the hot cannons retreated in unison, and cheers erupted from the Diyarbakir walls.

“Euhahaha! The devil’s weapon is retreating!”

“We endured it!”

The impact of the continuous shelling was so great that they were happy that the enemy’s weapon was merely retreating.

Nuri Ali, who was watching the scene, bit his lip tightly.

‘It’s not broken, it’s being moved to cool down. It will surely return once it cools down overnight.’

Unlike the day, the temperature dropped sharply at night, so it was obvious that it would return soon, but Nuri Ali was relieved that he had overcome one hurdle for now.

If they quickly repaired the damaged walls, they would be able to hold out for more than half a month.

***

“They must be thinking such foolish things.”

He heard cheers from the walls, and the cannons spewing hot heat passed him and retreated to the rear.

Yusuf smiled as he watched this scene.

“Padishah. Preparations are complete.”

“Show them that the nightmare is not over.”

As Yusuf’s order fell, the wagons that had been mixed with supplies moved to the front, parting the troops.

It was about 500 cannons that had been moved back.

The cheers that had echoed loudly as they saw the new cannons lined up along the long walls disappeared as if washed away, and Yusuf slung the gun he was holding over his shoulder.

“Continue the shelling.”

Ottoman.

A country that was more serious about firepower than any other.