Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 186

Becoming the Sultan of the Ottomans – Episode 186

Feint (2)

The somber sound of the sea breeze mingled with the shouts of sailors pulling thick ropes to adjust the sails, curved like bowstrings.

Seabirds flew noisily above the fleet, signaling the proximity of an island, and the deck creaked with every step of the armed soldiers.

Yusuf inhaled the salty, fishy sea air and stared at the coldly desolate island.

“This is Malta. The terrain is…uninviting.”

Even without war experience, it was clear that the terrain would be challenging.

Cliffs overlooking the crashing waves and a coastline dotted with reefs that emerged with each surge of the tide made it a haven for shipwrecks.

The few harbors that allowed entry to the island were bays where the sea curved into the land, making invasion difficult.

‘There’s a reason why the Ottomans failed in Malta in the original history,’ Yusuf mused.

The Knights Hospitaller, renowned for their defensive prowess, had inflicted significant damage on the Ottomans with a handful of troops on Rhodes. They had since fortified this island; how could it be easily captured?

Of course, that was irrelevant history to him. There was a reason why he had uprooted the Knights from Rhodes.

Yusuf raised his head and looked around.

Objectively speaking, the Ottoman naval power was not in prime condition.

A large fleet, built by straining the national resources, had been sent to the East. The Ottomans couldn’t afford to produce enough ships to replenish it, as they had other pressing concerns.

As soon as Mehmed relinquished his position, the Astrakhan Khanate attacked the Donbas region, and Murat engaged in small-scale battles with nomads or African natives dozens of times a year.

As a country with constant friction with its surroundings due to its vast territory, it couldn’t focus solely on naval power. It was difficult to overwhelm Western countries in the Mediterranean until the Eastern fleet returned.

‘But that’s why the Barbary pirates exist.’

Isn’t that what outsourcing is for?

“Dragut, is it?”

“Yes, my Padishah.”

The middle-aged man who bowed to Yusuf’s call was sweating profusely as he answered.

Frankly, he didn’t know why he was on the steamship where the Padishah was, instead of on his small pirate ship bobbing in the sea.

He had made a name for himself as a pirate under Barbarossa [Hayreddin Barbarossa, a famous Ottoman admiral and privateer], but he felt unworthy of facing the Padishah.

When he was summoned to the steamship, his crew even asked if he had been colluding with the enemy.

Sensing this, Yusuf slung his rifle over his shoulder.

“There’s no need to be afraid. Although I’m called Satan in Portugal, I won’t eat people.”

He might tear them apart, but he wouldn’t eat them.

Dragut bowed even deeper at the sight of Yusuf’s curving eyes, and Yusuf looked down at him.

Dragut was an admiral from a pirate background, similar to Hayreddin Barbarossa.

‘The greatest pirate warrior in history, the king who could not ascend to the throne in the Mediterranean.’

He was a talent who received such evaluations, and this was not a limited assessment within the Ottoman Empire; even French admirals regarded him as a living map of the Mediterranean and the most suitable person for the throne.

As the sea area to be managed grew wider day by day for the Ottomans, new talents to be exploited were always needed.

“Have you heard about Hajir? I heard he’s making great strides in the distant East.”

“I have heard from the Beylerbey [governor] of Algiers.”

The Beylerbey of Algiers was Urji, Hayreddin’s brother, so it was not unusual for him to boast about his brother.

‘It’s strange that he boasted about suppressing pirates in front of pirates.’

There was no reason to feel kinship with the pirates of the distant East, so it didn’t matter.

Yusuf put his hands behind his back and looked at the island of Malta, which was sounding the alarm.

“Compared to the vast world, this Mediterranean is just a lake. If you’ve become a seafarer, shouldn’t you dream of a wider world?”

“That is correct.”

“I will give you the opportunity to venture into the far sea. Prove your worth once. Can you do it?”

At Yusuf’s words, Dragut knelt down with a moved expression.

It was Yusuf who not only ruled a vast empire but also enjoyed a reputation as a divinely appointed leader within the Ottoman Empire.

It would be strange if his heart didn’t flutter when such a powerful figure expressed expectations for a mere pirate captain.

Dragut shouted in a determined voice.

“I will never disappoint you!”

“Good, I’ll be expecting it. You may leave now.”

Dragut, full of resolve, took his leave and returned to his ship via a small boat. Yusuf, watching him with a smiling face, was addressed by Hasan.

“My Padishah, it seems it’s time for you to take my nickname or surname.”

A joke about taking his nickname, ‘Satan’s Tongue,’ or his surname, ‘Satan’s Honey.’

Yusuf shrugged at the words of one of the few people who could joke with him.

“Isn’t he a talent in his prime? What’s this much motivation for.”

He was four years older than Yusuf, but he was in his prime in the Ottoman Empire.

The current Ottoman Empire was a place where even the elderly on their deathbeds couldn’t retire and had to work.

And Dragut was a talent needed in his future plans, and Yusuf watched the imperial fleet rushing to seize the port.

“I hope he proves his abilities for sure.”

He couldn’t entrust work entirely based on distorted records.

The siege began with Maltese defenders firing cannonballs that fell into the sea, creating pillars of water.

***

The Maltese defenders desperately resisted the Ottoman fleet penetrating the bay, but the scale of mobilization was vastly different.

The watchtower built on the Sibebras Peninsula, protruding into the center of the bay, was quickly demolished by the relentless bombardment, and Birgu, the port, resisted for their lives, relying on its small walls.

-Bang!

The walls, built before cannons were widely utilized, shattered into fragments with the sound of the cannon fire, and the commander in charge of the port defense screamed.

“Hold on a little longer! If we hold on, reinforcements will come from Mdina and Gozo!”

Although he shouted those words, the commander knew well how empty his words were.

Soldiers were vomiting and trembling as they watched their comrades torn to death by cannon fire. Others couldn’t overcome the pressure of war and stuck their heads out of the walls, screaming, only to die covered in blood.

In the middle of the Mediterranean, on a busy shipping lane, but for those who had lived lives far from war, it was a difficult situation to handle.

It was a situation where they couldn’t even be sure if they could hold out until news of reinforcements arrived, and all they could do was shout encouragement. It was time to raise his voice even louder.

“Avoid…”

Those were the last words he heard.

A group of pirates, who had crawled up unnoticed, plunged their blades into the commander’s neck.

“I, Dragut, have killed the commander! Kill them all!”

As Dragut shouted, dripping seawater, his pirates plunged into the wavering defenders.

Yusuf, who was watching the battlefield where about a hundred large and small ships were entangled from a distance, put down the telescope he was using.

“He’s doing something dangerous.”

Yusuf, who was not directly participating in the battle but was keeping an eye on the situation, was able to grasp Dragut’s movements.

Plunging into a battlefield where friendly and enemy cannonballs were mixed might seem reckless, but the very fact that he succeeded meant that his eye for the battlefield was excellent.

If he hadn’t accurately grasped the gaps in the battlefield, he wouldn’t have been able to get off the ship properly.

“It’s a shame he’s acting without knowing the value of his life, but he’s useful.”

Watching the ships surging towards Birgu Port, where the cannon fire had stopped and black smoke was rising, Yusuf handed the gun he was holding to Hasan next to him.

The Malta region consists of the largest island, Malta, Gozo, which is about 1/3 the size of Malta, and the small island of Comino in between, excluding small uninhabited islands.

The population living in this Malta region is about ten thousand, and the population was concentrated in Mdina, the center of Malta, Cittadella, the center of Gozo, and Birgu, which had just been captured.

Even if the Knights of Malta were gone, it didn’t mean that the defense was only lax, so it was a good start since it took less than an hour to occupy it.

For safety, Yusuf set foot in the port after Birgu was completely occupied.

Traces of fierce warfare and corpses were scattered everywhere in the port, and the captured villagers were trembling and gathered in the open space.

“P, please save me!”

About a thousand people were trembling with bayonets pointed at them, and Yusuf stroked his beard.

Although Malta is a territory belonging to Spain, it is a region close to Arabia, and the language was also close to Arabic.

To put it simply, it was like a heavily accented Arabic, and it was not difficult to understand such simple words.

“Stop.”

Yusuf spoke briefly to the soldier who was about to kick a woman who was trembling and begging to save her children.

“This is the land we will govern from now on, and those we must punish are not them but Portugal. Do not show excessive reactions.”

“I will keep that in mind, my Padishah!”

Some of the personnel who had been expecting looting felt disappointed at these words, but Yusuf didn’t care.

He would give them some compensation even if it wasn’t looting, as they had participated in the battle.

“The war is not over yet. Bring Mdina and Gozo into the embrace of the empire.”

Only by occupying these two places could Malta be said to be completely occupied.

As Yusuf’s order fell, the Ottoman army advanced towards the two places simultaneously, and the two places, which had not foreseen the Ottoman invasion, easily fell into Ottoman hands.

The Malta region, which the Ottomans had ultimately failed to occupy in the original history, suffering only enormous losses, came into Yusuf’s hands, and news that the Ottomans had begun their attack quickly spread around.

***

Yusuf, watching Birgu Port, which was being quickly restored with the mobilization of soldiers and villagers, spoke to Hasan next to him.

“By now, Spain will know that I have started a campaign.”

“That’s right.”

It was taking some time to occupy and fortify Malta, so Charles V would have heard the news by now.

Charles would regard the occupation of Malta as a kind of declaration of war, but for Yusuf, who knew the importance of Malta very well, Malta itself was valuable.

He saw it as a more important land than Tunis, which Spain was desperately trying to block. Because Malta, once fortified, is more difficult to penetrate than Tunis, which is relatively easy to occupy.

“Dragut, have you ever been to Tunis?”

“I have been there a few times.”

“What do you think about occupying it with the current fleet?”

“I think it is definitely possible.”

The imperial fleet, joined by the Barbary pirates, numbered over a hundred ships, so there would be quite a bit of damage, but they would be able to occupy Tunis.

But here, it is necessary to recalculate.

“What if the Spanish fleet interferes?”

“…I think it will not be easy. Are they not employing the Genoese mercenary fleet?”

“Yes, they have them.”

The Genoese mercenary fleet hired by Spain is not an easy opponent.

Of course, if they were to engage head-on, they could win even if Spain and the mercenary fleet attacked together, but the story was different if they interfered with the occupation.

“Then we need to throw bait so that they cannot easily choose to interfere with the occupation of Tunis.”

It would be enough to throw bait that would make their mouths water so much that they couldn’t easily choose the option of interfering with the attack on Tunis.

***

“It’s the first time we’ve met like this. Nice to meet you, Pope.”

The Pope trembled as he saw the same emerald eyes that he had seen so often in Rome.

The more terrible thing was that the person in front of him was a more ferocious person than Mehmed, who had become the target of the Pope’s nightmares.

“W, why is the Padishah of the Empire here…”

Towards the Pope, who was terrified beyond confusion, Yusuf gave a deep smile.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“W, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about whether Carlos will send troops again to conquer Rome if I am here.”

At Yusuf’s smiling words, the Pope tightly closed his eyes.

It was a terrible nightmare.