Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 148

Red Flags of the Red Sea (3)

Yusuf snapped his fingers.

Even though the Ottomans were in the Mediterranean, they weren’t ignorant of the new sea route explorations.

In the original timeline, a copy of Magellan’s voyage had already entered Topkapi Palace [the Ottoman Sultan’s residence in Istanbul] less than two years after his death.

You could assume they received most news, and Yusuf looked annoyed.

‘If you can’t handle it, just give up quietly and grow sugarcane in Brazil.’

The Portuguese Empire was still a story of the distant future, and the country that was just starting to taste money had no fear.

They must have gained confidence from crushing the Islamic allied forces, including the Mamluks, at the Battle of Diu, but it was utterly ridiculous.

“What is the extent of Portugal’s known territory?”

“You can consider that they’ve occupied the necessary ports on the way from Africa to India. They’ve advanced quite far beyond that.”

“They’re crazy for money, so it’s not surprising.”

Yusuf wouldn’t back down when it came to being reckless, but Europeans of this era often went even further.

If they didn’t have goods to sell, they’d send the shop owner to Allah and engage in free trade [a euphemism for seizing goods by force].

In any case, Portugal had already occupied the Strait of Malacca in Malaysia, which, along with the Panama and Suez Canals, was one of the most important shipping lanes in the world in modern terms.

“Either way, the basic policy remains the same. We need to build ships and make sure they can’t set foot here again.”

The Portuguese, armed with the belief that anything was permissible against infidels destined for hell, were nothing more than pirates.

The courtiers who heard Yusuf’s command agreed.

“Even now, the shipyards are working hard to build ships. Timber prices have soared, but it’s still manageable.”

“You don’t have to worry about cannons and gunpowder either.”

More ships and more cannons.

This was always the right choice.

Unlike Portugal, which had to go around Africa, the Ottomans were fighting in their own backyard, so there was no shortage of gunpowder.

The courtiers who received Yusuf’s instructions left, and Yusuf turned his head.

“I’ve kept you waiting.”

“Not at all, my Padishah [Ottoman Emperor].”

Giovanni Barbaro bowed respectfully.

He wasn’t foolish enough not to understand the meaning of holding a meeting with an envoy present.

“I was worried that Portugal was making moves, but it seems I can ease my concerns.”

For Venetians, shared religion wasn’t important. What mattered was not infringing on their profits.

Portugal, which had broken the monopoly on the spice trade and infringed on their profits, was already in a state of diplomatic rupture with Venice, so this was a welcome measure.

Yusuf gave a gentle smile to Giovanni, who understood his intentions well.

“Yes, there’s no need to worry. It’s just time for them to pay for the sins they’ve committed.”

“We were also shocked to hear about their atrocities. I don’t know how they can commit such acts while wearing the mask of a human.”

It was amusing because Venice, which was no less evil than Portugal, was saying this.

Of course, Yusuf didn’t show it, as even bad guys could be useful.

“Anyway, even if we push Portugal out, it won’t be easy to trade directly. There are things Portugal has done, you see.”

Just seeing a white person was enough to make people grab an axe to split their heads open.

So much so that the French envoys who had come before postponed using the canal and only received trade benefits in Cairo and Constantinople before retreating.

Giovanni answered confidently to this.

“It will be difficult, but we will manage. We have friendships with Arab merchants, and we even helped during the naval battle with Portugal, so there won’t be much animosity towards our country.”

“If that’s what you’ve judged, then so be it.”

In any case, direct trade was not a choice for Venice, but a necessity.

Since France had opened trade with the Ottomans, the monopoly was broken, and they had to take risks to gain even a little more profit.

Yusuf, who was talking with Giovanni, turned his head slightly and looked at a young man in Giovanni’s party.

“Was that Titian Vecellio? The artist who Michelangelo, whom I cherish, spoke with.”

“Y-yes, my Padishah.”

Titian quickly bowed his head with a trembling voice.

Michelangelo’s advice to run away was still ringing in his ears, and he felt like his pants would get wet if he let his guard down.

He was afraid that an order would be issued to make him like the eunuch next to him right away.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. Would I, who cherish great artists, persecute you?”

Yusuf, who knew how great the power of art and culture was, wasn’t just saying empty words, and Titian was slightly relieved.

It seemed the Emperor didn’t know what he had done yet.

‘How would he know about the paintings that the nobles secretly bought?’

Titian relaxed, recalling Giovanni’s words that had persuaded him to come here.

“I hear your paintings are quite excellent? I’m intrigued.”

“They are not so bad that I would be ashamed to show them to the Padishah.”

“Oh, that’s quite the confidence. Michelangelo said your paintings were better than his, even.”

Of course, it was funny to compare a sculptor and a painter, but it was quite a compliment that Michelangelo, who was full of pride, admitted that someone was better than him, even in painting.

“It’s fate that we’ve met like this, so feel free to visit the capital often if you have the chance. I’ll always keep the door open for you.”

“Really?!”

Titian was overjoyed to the point of being rude enough to ask again.

The moment he saw the sculptures again this time, Titian felt his inspiration explode, and he realized they were his muse.

As an artist, giving up a muse that inspired him was unimaginable, so he had reason to be happy.

“Yes. The discussions with the French side are already over, but there will be many more people visiting the Empire in the future.”

Not only was the holy city of Jerusalem important, but Constantinople was also a city of great significance in Europe, and many people wanted to visit as Yusuf’s biography and other things instilled fantasies in them.

‘Anyway, if they’re coming on overseas trips in this era, they must be rich.’

There was no reason to refuse those who would spend their money lavishly and return with a fondness for the Ottomans.

“Anyway, I’ll allow you to meet Michelangelo, so feel free to visit when you have the chance.”

“Thank you, my Padishah.”

The atmosphere became more amicable thanks to Titian’s genuine joy, and the story itself flowed smoothly.

The delegation left to adjust the details of the discussion, and Yusuf left the audience chamber.

“Father!”

“Yes, Hasna.”

Hasna smiled brightly when she saw Yusuf.

Yusuf, who patted Hasna’s head as she hugged him tightly, heard the voice of the child chattering next to him.

“Kasim said he would draw a picture of me, but he drew it strangely. And Mustafa found something I lost a while ago. It seems he finds everything lost in the harem [the private quarters of the Sultan’s family]!”

“Is that so.”

When you’re busy with work, you tend to neglect those close to you. Hasna, who often visited, filled that gap.

Hasna, who hadn’t stopped talking throughout the walk, clapped her small hands together and said.

“Grandpa Michelangelo said a new servant might be coming to the harem. What happened?”

“Hmm, unfortunately, there won’t be a new servant.”

“Oh, he definitely said there would be a new one.”

Yusuf smiled deeply as he looked at Hasna, who was tilting her head.

“There’s no need to be impatient. We’re just waiting for the prey that’s already in our hands to fatten up.”

Titian was different from Michelangelo.

He was someone who would enjoy great fame and wealth in his lifetime, not in the distant future, so there was a need to wait for him to grow a little more. Yusuf smiled coldly, and that night, Titian had a nightmare for no reason.

***

Five ships entered Muscat, a natural harbor with rocky islands lined up like breakwaters and the land surrounded by rocky mountains.

Vasco da Gama carefully examined the thirty or so ships that had already entered the port.

Traces of dents from cannonballs were visible everywhere, but the overall damage was minor, and the complexions of the soldiers repairing the ships weren’t too bad.

Vasco da Gama, who had heard the news of the naval battle only after arriving near Muscat, disembarked, and there was someone waiting at the port to greet him.

“It’s been a while, Your Excellency.”

“It’s been a while, Governor.”

Vasco was the first person in Portuguese history who wasn’t a member of the royal family to be raised to the rank of Count, which showed how highly his achievements were regarded.

Vasco, who received a polite greeting from Diogo Lopes de Sequeira, the Governor of India, surveyed the port.

Muscat, located in the southeastern part of the Arabian Peninsula, was a port close to India and had grown into an important trading port.

“The port is deserted.”

“Haha, isn’t this how these towns usually are? Please come inside.”

The port, where most of the residents had been massacred and burned, had been too short a time to recover from the damage, even after ten years.

It was bound to look empty.

Vasco frowned at the sight of the local residents working like slaves with bare bodies.

“Aren’t these infidels living too comfortably?”

“I will take action, Your Excellency.”

Diogo, noticing Vasco’s expression, gave a signal to the soldiers, who whipped a resident who was carrying luggage.

Even though flesh and blood were splattering as he was whipped because of him, Vasco showed no sympathy.

He was the one who, when sailing to India, looted ships, hung corpses for target practice, or chopped them up and sent them to the locals to use as curry ingredients.

Regarding the pain and pleas for help as mere animal cries, Vasco entered the fortress and asked Diogo.

“I heard you fought a naval battle with the dirty infidels. How was it?”

“The situation seems different from the naval battle in Diu. The enemy’s firepower surpassed ours.”

“Infidels? In what way?”

Vasco sighed, thinking about the recent skirmish.

“From range to rate of fire. Overall, our weapons were inferior. At this rate, we have no chance of winning.”

“Was the saying that their gunpowder weapons might be the best in the world just a false rumor? How could the Lord allow the growth of that infidel empire?”

Vasco lamented briefly.

Just as the Ottomans were sitting and listening to all the news of the New World’s discovery, Europe also knew quite a bit about the Ottomans.

Among them, the most famous militarily was the fact that they loved cannons so much that it was rumored they ate gunpowder instead of rice.

“Hmph, the infidel emperor says that if firepower is lacking, you just need to fire more cannons. There’s no way to win against cannons.”

Since the Ottomans were even jokingly said to have soldiers dragging cannons instead of swords, Vasco didn’t doubt Diogo’s words.

Vasco pondered deeply. Having been appointed as an advisor on Indian policy, he had to come up with a solution.

“If we go into a war of attrition, we’ll inevitably be pushed back by the infidels. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right. The enemy has been able to bring many ships from the Mediterranean by digging a canal, but it’s not easy for us to replenish our ships.”

Diogo didn’t bother to bring up the financial problems.

It hadn’t been long since they started the spice trade, but it already accounted for 40% of Portugal’s revenue.

Considering that less than 8 ships departed from Lisbon each year, there was no need to talk about the revenue, and it wasn’t the time to discuss financial problems.

“…How about bringing in Spain instead?”

“Are you serious?”

What was the reason Portugal tried to interfere with Spain’s Magellan’s voyage around the world?

It was to prevent Spain from getting involved, so Vasco, who had argued for a crisis by saying they would have their rice bowl taken away by Spain, couldn’t help but be surprised when he said this.

“At this rate, we’ll lose everything, spices and all.”

There were so many atrocities they had committed that there were mountains of people who gnashed their teeth at the mention of Portugal.

They were bowing their heads under pressure, but it was obvious that they would declare they would smash Portugal’s heads if they started to be pushed back by the Ottomans.

“If we’re obsessed with small profits, we might not be able to set foot here. It’s better to share the profits.”

“The King might object.”

“We’ll have to persuade him. There’s also the issue of the Treaty of Tordesillas [an agreement between Portugal and Spain that divided the newly ‘discovered’ lands outside of Europe between them].”

The Treaty of Tordesillas was a treaty mediated by the Pope after the discovery of the Americas and the near-war between Portugal and Spain as they searched for a route to India.

According to the baseline, Spain had rights to all of America except Brazil, and Portugal had rights to the eastern region including Brazil.

The reason Spain couldn’t go to India by circumventing Africa like Portugal and moved west to find India was also because of this.

“The King, as well as Charles V, will be wary of the growth of the Ottomans, so the conclusion will be good. I’ll have to return to the home country to convey this fact.”

Vasco rose to his feet to convey the seriousness of the situation to the King.

There was no time to spare.

***

“Prince! The Portuguese fleet is ahead!”

Murat, who was yawning as he boarded the reconnaissance ship, smiled brightly at this cry.

Five enemy ships were approaching.