I Became the Sultan
A blade steeped in cold moonlight has no eyes.
The only way for those who block its path to survive is to worship the true master who has at last arrived.
-Prince Yusuf has come!
-May Allah’s blessing be with the true Padishah!
The subjects, who had been trembling at the sounds of gunfire and clashing blades, realized that Yusuf had come and cried out his name.
The voices of the subjects covered the capital, and those who rejected him became the red carpet spread over the main road.
The entrance to Topkapi Palace, reached by following the squelching blood, stood wide open, and beneath the wavering torches could be seen corpses trampled like crumbling fallen leaves.
As he entered the First Courtyard, the Courtyard of the Janissaries, a man knelt among the people standing under strict guard and paid his respects.
“I greet Prince Yusuf, chosen by the great Padishah.”
At that greeting, a strange light passed through Yusuf’s eyes.
It was a greeting that emphasized “chosen,” pointing out that he was Bayezid’s man and that Yusuf had not yet ascended to the seat of Padishah.
It could have been taken as rude, but Yusuf thought little of it.
Even if he did not cling to the title of Padishah, that seat was his anyway. Even if his father, Bayezid, tried to stop him.
“Who are you?”
“I am Mustafa Pasha, the Silahtar Ağa.”
The Silahtar were the elite of the elite among the Kapikulu Sipahi, the palace cavalry guard; for a Janissary to transfer into that unit, he had to carry out a suicide mission and survive.
As the word Silahtar itself meant “weapon-bearer,” they were those who served as close guards beside the Padishah, and Ağa meant their commander.
In short, he could be called the Padishah’s closest confidant.
“Hmm, so it is you. The one who failed to properly protect my father and requested my aid.”
“It was all my negligence.”
“So it was.”
The fact that Selim had seized the capital had, rather, been fortunate for Yusuf, but in any case, failing to properly protect the Padishah was a grave crime.
As he had played a major role in this victory, his merit might cover his fault and spare his life, but it was still a crime that required him to lay down every office he held.
It meant he was a man who would share Bayezid’s end.
As if his interest had faded, Yusuf turned his head and looked around.
Topkapi Palace was a place so familiar that he could describe its scenery with his eyes closed, but it had never once shown a scene like this.
Instead of the savory smell of bread wafting from the bakery, the fishy stench of blood stung his nose, and near the firewood storehouse, corpses were piled up in place of firewood.
Around the armory, whose doors hung emptily open, weapons that had never been properly swung lay scattered, and around the Janissary quarters, traces of life had been covered by bloodstains.
‘Even this will be little compared to the blood that will flow from now on.’
To become the master of the Ottoman Empire meant the same as creating a road made of blood.
If he had feared this, he would never have begun.
“Let us go. To see the end.”
Yusuf moved slowly forward and passed through the Gate of Salutation, collapsed by cannon fire.
The marble where he had once seen severed heads before becoming a sanjakbey was buried beneath a heap of fallen stones, and the attendants who had worked in the Second Courtyard, along with those who had surrendered, looked on with fear and awe.
When Yusuf entered the Third Courtyard through the already opened Gate of Felicity, Arda came running, knelt, and lowered his head.
“The usurper Selim has already fled.”
“My brother is disgraceful to the very end.”
Even in the original history, Selim had always prepared a ship to flee on whenever he raised a rebellion.
Considering how loudly he had moved, it was no surprise that he had run away.
‘It will mean nothing even if he flees.’
Who would help Selim?
The Crimean Khanate? Most of the thirty thousand troops they had strained themselves to send had either died or been taken prisoner. Would they have the leisure for that?
If they found Selim, they would be in a position where they had to wrap him up prettily, send him back to the capital, and beg for their lives.
There was someone else more important than Selim, whose ending was already decided.
“Where is Father?”
“I will guide you.”
As if he had expected Yusuf to ask, Arda took the lead and guided him to a shabby room at the end of the Third Courtyard.
Bayezid lay on the bed lit by a single candle, and Yusuf stood beside him.
“Yu… Yusuf, is that you?”
The strained voice, thick with phlegm, clearly showed the state of his body.
Under the candlelight, his appearance was just as wretched.
Only one of his legs remained, his body was wrapped tightly in bandages, and inflammation showed in the wounds that had opened over his wrinkles.
As he had heard, Bayezid’s condition could not promise him even tomorrow.
“How did you come to look like this, Father?”
“It must be… because Allah was angered. Because I could not stop Se… Selim.”
Yusuf held Bayezid’s hand as he struggled to continue speaking.
The eyes that had once been fierce were clouded, and a small tear ran down his face, which was full of regret.
The physician who had been bowing his head beside Bayezid spoke carefully.
“The bedchamber where Bayezid was staying collapsed due to the earthquake. We barely managed to rescue him and did all we could, but….”
Even though he did not say more, Yusuf understood what came next.
He might somehow have endured the amputation, but with the body of an old man, it seemed he could endure no longer.
“Yusu…f, from now on, you are the master of the empire.”
It could be said that he had endured until now for that one sentence.
Yusuf gripped his hand tightly.
“Trust me and leave it to me.”
“Th-then I shall… return this to you.”
Bayezid moved his hand with difficulty and took a silver coin from his breast.
Seeing the pierced silver coin placed on the back of his hand, Yusuf realized it was the one he had given Bayezid.
After handing over the silver coin, Bayezid quietly closed his eyes, and Yusuf, feeling the warmth scatter away, silently stepped outside.
After holding the silver coin up to the moonlight for a long while, Yusuf handed it to Şemsi.
“Put it back in Father’s breast.”
“Bayezid returned this silver coin to you. Why would you…?”
“I have no right to take it back.”
Because he had known in advance that Bayezid’s bedchamber would collapse in the great earthquake.
He had also known that Bayezid, who in the original history would have saved his life by leaving his bedchamber a few hours earlier, had not left his room.
If he had given even a hint, Bayezid would not have died like that, but he had not done so.
This insignificant silver coin was the final gift a heartless son could give his father.
“Father’s era has ended, and from now on, my era begins.”
Yusuf’s calm declaration flowed into the cold night sky.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Yusuf! I will kill that bastard!”
“F-Father?! Why are you here?!”
Seeing Selim enter his office with bloodshot eyes, Suleiman was startled.
The clothes made of splendid fabric had become rags, and darkened bloodstains marked his white turban.
Selim, who took Suleiman’s seat for himself, looked at the clock parts on the desk and twisted his mouth.
“While your father was suffering humiliation, you were absorbed in this trash?!”
Suleiman blankly watched the clock parts that had been thrown away roll across the floor, then lowered his head.
Though he was still young, he was not so foolish that he did not understand what the current situation meant.
“Suleiman, gather the army at once and send a messenger to Mengli. I am not finished yet! All I need to do is kill that bastard Yusuf!”
Suleiman looked at Selim, who was shouting at the top of his lungs, with a sorrowful face.
Carefully picking up the body of the clock, Suleiman asked Selim, who had lost his reason.
“…Father, what happened to the clock I gave you?”
“The clock? Is that damned clock important right now?! It must be somewhere in Topkapi Palace. Yes, if you want to get it back, gather the army at once!”
“Father.”
Suleiman called Selim softly and shook his head.
“It is over now. Let us not drive innocent people into the abyss any longer. Not only the soldiers of Kefe, but even the Crimean Khanate will not help us.”
“…No. If the Crimean Khanate will not do, then we can go west. If we borrow their strength, it will be possible.”
Selim’s voice gradually lost its force, and Suleiman spoke to the soldiers who entered through the open door.
“Escort my father and launch the ship. We will go to the capital together.”
With the calm voice of the boy, a single ship set sail.
To tie off the knot of the long war of succession.
∗ ∗ ∗
The capital was, quite literally, a mess.
It was only natural, since the capital had turned into a battlefield before the terror of the earthquake had even subsided.
At daybreak, the corpses were swiftly cleared away, and before the bloodstains had even been fully erased, the funeral of Bayezid II was held simply.
The funeral prayer was performed at the Fatih Mosque, whose dome had cracked in the earthquake, and his embalmed body was interred in the Bayezid Mosque that he himself had built.
At the death of a man who had played such a great role in Islam that he was called Bayezid the Just, the entire Islamic world fell into deep sorrow.
Even Qansuh al-Ghawri, the sultan of the Mamluks, attended the funeral prayer held in Cairo, and funeral prayers in his memory were held in many places across the lands.
However, if there was one whose long life as Padishah had ended, there was also one whose life as Padishah was beginning.
Boom! Ba-boom!
The cheerful beat of darbuka drums rang out, and after it, the sounds of lively instruments echoed in all directions.
When Yusuf, wearing splendid clothes decorated with gold thread, walked out from the Gate of Felicity, the gate of the Third Courtyard, the crowd of thousands knelt as one.
-O great Padishah!
-May Allah’s blessing dwell beneath the true master of the empire!
Looking down at those who knelt before him, Yusuf thought of the past in which he had struggled desperately to survive.
He had become Yusuf, overcome countless crises, and at last stood in this place.
‘From now on, things will be different from the past.’
If he had fought until now for survival, from now on he had to advance for the glory of the empire.
“This empire is mine. The glory of the empire shall soon become my glory.”
With Yusuf’s declaration, a window appeared before his eyes for the first time in a long while.
[Master of a Great Empire, Points +100]
[Become the master of a great empire spanning six continents. Reward Selection Ticket]
Continents can be classified differently depending on the definition, but if one excludes Antarctica, the six continents would be Asia, Europe, Africa, North America, South America, and Oceania.
To reach the Americas, one had to break through Europe which blocked the Mediterranean, and to reach Oceania, one had to pass through Southeast Asia.
In truth, the option that appeared to be a way to return to his original body was meaningless.
‘I intend to live as Yusuf, and die as Yusuf.’
Because he had made such a resolution.
Thus there was no need to entertain such things, but—
“An empire that no nation has ever achieved until now. This shall be an interesting goal.”
Yusuf turned around.
Now that he had become the long-awaited Sultan, it was time to move as the master of the empire.
∗ ∗ ∗
Europe and the Middle East watched with bated breath for the outcome of the succession war in which the master of the great Ottoman Empire changed.
Bayezid had been passive toward external expansion, but there was no law that the sons beneath him would be the same.
To those who sensed that great changes would come depending on which prince became Sultan, the rumors from the Ottomans came as a shock.
The problem was not that Yusuf, who had defeated Selim who held the capital, had ascended to the Sultanate.
“Did you say that the master of those infidels has prophesied an earthquake?!”
“From where do such absurd words come!”
The gazes of Europe, which had been sharpening swords against one another, converged on the Ottomans.
∗ ∗ ∗
The farther the distance, the more distant the heart grows.
This is not a saying that applies only to lovers.
For subjects who never leave the land they have lived in their entire lives, let alone travel, affairs of the capital that take months to reach on foot are matters beyond concern.
Even subjects who had considered the change of the empire's master less significant than the change of a neighboring village chief or sanjak-bey paid attention to this succession war.
First, most regions of the Ottomans felt the succession war on their skin.
The rebel army, Yusuf’s rebel-suppression army, and Ahmed’s army that charged toward the capital had rampaged throughout Anatolia.
The army of the Crimean Khanate led by Selim had pierced through the Balkan Peninsula, and Selim, who had ascended to the position of Padishah, had issued conscription orders across the entire Balkan Peninsula.
Even subjects too busy making a living felt the armies’ movement firsthand.
On top of that, rumors that Yusuf, now the new Padishah, had prophesied an earthquake spread quickly.
‘The masses have a habit of spreading the rumors they wish to believe even faster.’
This great earthquake had caused immense damage across the Ottoman Empire, beyond just the capital.
In an age where great catastrophes were thought to be God's punishment regardless of religion, the great earthquake brought even greater fear.
Meanwhile, the tale that the new Padishah had prophesied the great catastrophe in advance was like a ray of hope to those trembling in fear.
This was the reason why, despite the great catastrophe, the entire Ottoman Empire was enthralled by the birth of the new Padishah.
“The Prince has finally ascended to the Padishah's seat.”
Yusuf's writings proclaiming that he had ascended to the new Padishah's seat were delivered across the Ottoman Empire, and Ayşe smiled brightly upon reading them.
-I declare, as the Ottoman Empire, a well-protected land, and the one who has become the Lord of Rum. According to my father's will, my empire shall be merciful to the helpless and miserable, and all orphans shall become my children in compassion. Under the name of Yusuf Shah bin Bayezid Khan, my generous empire shall walk the path of glory.
Fatima, who had read this writing repeatedly, slightly stiffened her expression.
“A writing that reveals the path the Padishah shall walk.”
Fatima, who assessed it briefly, picked up another letter.
It was a letter saying it was now time to come to the capital, but there was a problem.
“Ayşe, it seems difficult for you to go immediately. One cannot separate a baby from its mother.”
“I cannot take the child on a long journey.”
Ayşe, holding her baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, nodded.
The wriggling child had bright blonde hair like her mother, and her blinking eyes were like a prairie bathed in warm sunlight.
Looking at the cherished child she held, Fatima smiled softly.
“Seeing how my eyes keep going to her, she is truly a mysterious child.”
When the daughter was born, not only Fatima but even Ayşe had been greatly disappointed.
It was a natural reaction for a time when the value of sons was highly prized, but at some point, people began gathering around Ayşe's daughter.
The desk of Mehmed, who liked to read books quietly, was eventually placed in his younger sister’s room, and the destination of Murad, who was in the midst of running around, was always his half-sister’s room.
Even Hatice, her rival and political enemy, visited frequently.
“The Padishah would be very pleased to see her.”
Hatice looked at the child enviously.
In the Ottoman Empire where the Law of Fratricide exists, a consort can bear only one prince, and if this law does not disappear, Hatice would have no occasion to bear more children.
“But this is troublesome. I cannot leave only you here and go.”
At least a year was needed until the child could endure a long-distance journey, and during that time Ayşe had no choice but to remain in Trabzon.
Thinking of their past bond, Fatima wished to stay with her, but she had to return to the capital without fail.
“You need not worry about me. You, Valide Hatun, must oversee the Padishah's Harem.”
With Yusuf's ascension to the Sultanate, Fatima had become the Valide Hatun—a title meaning Queen Mother arising from Hatun—and gained the authority to oversee the Harem.
From sending the women who had been touched by Bayezid and Selim's hands to the Eski Saray—the old palace where faded harem women spend their remaining years.
To recruiting and educating new harem women and tightening the discipline of the Harem, she had roles to fulfill.
“Is this not what you, Valide Hatun, have long desired?”
As Ayşe smiled playfully, Fatima also smiled lightly.
The Harem was by no means a place of good memories for Fatima. She had had to endure all manner of humiliation and crisis for the sin of having the youngest son who had no chance of succession.
Since the majority of those she would be sorting out this time were those who had despised her in the past, Fatima was not one to leave this in another's hands.
“Valide Hatun, do not worry. I shall remain here together with her.”
At Hatice's words, both women showed surprised faces.
It meant she was throwing away with her own hands a good opportunity to monopolize Yusuf's favor.
“Please do not look at me so strangely. For the Padishah is one who favors a woman who helps him more than a woman who merely stays by his side.”
Even so, it was a great resolution, and Fatima patted her hand.
Fatima, having set down a great burden, rose from her seat with a lightened face. There was much to prepare in order to return to the capital with her two grandsons.
As Fatima left, Ayşe's green eyes took on a chill.
“Hatice, what are you scheming? I hope you did not think I would believe that excuse.”
The justification of favor was far too weak to miss an opportunity to create one's own people within the Harem.
“Just think of it as a deal. I hope you will make a concession equal to the opportunity I have given up.”
“I do not know what you are speaking of.”
Seeing Ayşe playing dumb, Hatice let out a sigh.
“If you were planning to enter the harem first and create your own people, were you not planning to push Circassian women into the harem?”
At Hatice's pointed words, Ayşe merely smiled subtly.
It was a moment that required no answer.
∗ ∗ ∗
Once Yusuf seized the capital, the chaos quickly subsided.
The first thing Yusuf ordered upon becoming Padishah and grasping real power was to clear away the debris still abandoned throughout the capital.
Of a population of 160,000, over ten thousand had perished, 1,070 residences had been destroyed, and 109 mosques had collapsed.
Clearing the debris alone was no ordinary task, but fortunately Yusuf had excellent labor at his disposal.
“The prisoners captured from the Crimean Khanate shall be put to hard labor.”
The troops of the Crimean Khanate captured as prisoners alone numbered twenty thousand, and there was no reason to leave them idle.
While it could be dangerous to manage so many prisoners in a situation where the Circassian and Georgian forces had returned to their countries, Yusuf was not greatly worried.
‘Because they will have hope that they may be released as they labor.’
They were different from the Turkmen rebels who had joined the revolt alongside Şehinşah, were captured, and became slaves.
They firmly believed that their homeland, the Crimean Khanate, would rescue them, so they would not act rashly.
Once the prisoners were mobilized, the debris was quickly cleared, but this was not the issue.
“The cost of restoring the damage is no trivial matter. We must impose a special tax and recruit stonemasons and carpenters from various regions.”
Listening to the Grand Vizier's proposal, Yusuf slowly looked down upon the capital.
The capital, with its debris cleared, was riddled with holes like a beehive, and the people including the Grand Vizier sought to quickly restore the city to its original state.
However, Yusuf's thoughts were somewhat different.
‘Rather, this matter could become an opportunity.’
An opportunity to reorganize this great city called Konstantiniyye.
Since he had cement, there was much that could be done, such as building water supply and sewage systems and regulating the city's roads.
Thus he had no intention of hastily restoring things.
“I must establish a proper city plan.”
There was no need to draw up the plan himself. Once he gave the order, there were plenty of people who would work in his stead.
Since becoming Padishah, the caliber of talent he could mobilize had changed, and the environment to cultivate as many as he wished was complete.
‘I purchased [Precise Talent Appraisal] with accumulated points.’
It was an ability somewhat different from [Rapid Talent Appraisal], which he had considered alongside his first trait, [Emotion Reading].
If [Rapid Talent Appraisal] was the ability to quickly judge whether someone was a talent or not, [Precise Talent Appraisal] was the ability to know in which field a talent was suited.
‘[Rapid Talent Appraisal] no longer holds meaning for me.’
Those who showed their faces before the Padishah could all be called talents.
An ability that distinguished whether one was a talent or not was no longer meaningful.
[Precise Talent Appraisal], which allowed him to sense through lengthy conversation in which field a talent would excel, was more useful.
He had not yet had a chance to properly put it to use, but it was an ability that would become more useful with time.
“More importantly, they have finally arrived.”
All manner of curses and oaths poured down upon the two figures surrounded by soldiers, loud enough to be heard from this far away.
Even while vicious malice clawed at body and mind, the steps of the two walking figures were dignified, and Yusuf smiled broadly.
“Now that's the brother I knew. Let us go greet our guests.”
Stepping out to the entrance of the Third Courtyard, Yusuf welcomed the two guests who had come from afar.
“Welcome, Brother Selim, and Suleiman. I can hardly say how long it has been since we last met face to face.”
Though his complexion was haggard, Selim's eyes unmistakably held life.
Standing without fear, unbefitting of one who faced death, Selim raised one corner of his lips.
“Has it been about ten years? I never thought I would meet the youngest brother who once came up to my waist like this.”
“I never imagined back then that you would be waiting for me in Trabzon.”
Meeting Selim in Trabzon had felt as though his heart had nearly stopped.
If Selim had taken the risk then, he would not be standing here now.
“Then as now, you surprise me, Brother. I never thought you would flee only to return.”
“I left something behind and came to retrieve it. Did you not see the clock in my bedchamber?”
At Selim's words, Yusuf signaled with his eyes, and the chamberlain who had briefly stepped away brought the clock and handed it to Selim.
Selim silently looked down at the clock for a moment, then extended it to Yusuf.
“This is a clock made by my son, Suleiman. What do you think of it?”
“It looks magnificent.”
“I shall give it to you.”
Yusuf knew full well that this did not mean merely giving him the clock, and Suleiman, who had been standing still, raised his voice.
“Father!”
“Hold your tongue! This is no place for you to intervene. So, younger brother. Will you grant my last request?”
To Selim's request to spare Suleiman, Yusuf replied coldly.
“Did you show such mercy to your brothers? Kasim, the last remaining son of Brother Ahmed, died at your hands as well.”
He had failed to honor the request Ahmed had made of him.
Selim, having seized the capital, had taken his nephew's life without hesitation.
“You and I are different. Suleiman will not pose a threat to you.”
This, too, was true.
As the son of Selim, who had been branded the culprit of the catastrophe, no matter how much Suleiman struggled, he could not gather a following.
It meant he was no threat whatsoever.
‘He is also quite a useful talent if kept alive.’
It could also serve as an opportunity to change the system of succession. For he had no intention of continuing the Law of Fratricide.
Yusuf slowly approached and accepted the clock, and Selim spoke briefly.
“Thank you.”
“You have no cause to rejoice yet. If Suleiman proves useless, he will follow after you at any time.”
At Yusuf's firm assertion, Selim smirked.
“Did I not tell you when we first met? My son is brilliant. He will likely outlive you.”
“That may well be.”
Having spoken thus, Yusuf turned away, and moments later, a young boy's cries echoed out.
It was the end of the heartless Law of Fratricide.
∗ ∗ ∗
The Sultan's authority was at its weakest at the time of his accession.
No matter how much he had been trained in the field as a sancak bey from a young age, ruling a vast empire was a different matter, and the aid of the existing bureaucracy was essential.
Moreover, he had yet to fully secure the loyalty of the central army, including the Janissaries, who were the core of maintaining power.
‘The basic custom was to forgive, to some extent, the past misdeeds of those who had been eyesores, placate them by saying let us try to get along, and shower the central army with money.’
However, Yusuf was different from previous sultans.
Having sufficiently proven his capabilities through numerous military achievements, the suppression of rebels, and even the capture of the capital, the central army rendered absolute loyalty to Yusuf.
Furthermore, because Yusuf had defeated Selim, who had brought about the great catastrophe, and entered the capital as a savior, the support of his subjects was unwavering.
With his accession, Yusuf had no need to watch anyone's mood; he set to reforming the empire's council immediately.
The first target was the Grand Vizier.
“This old man shall step down from this excessive position and return to his rightful place.”
“You have worked hard all this time.”
Yusuf accepted the resignation of Hadim Ali Pasha, who had been the Grand Vizier.
After all, the rightful place of Ali Pasha—who bore the eunuch title of Hadim—was that of a chamberlain, so there was no need to lament.
The vacant seat of Grand Vizier was immediately filled by a suitable candidate.
“Hersekzade Ahmed Pasha, I shall look forward to your endeavors from now on.”
“I shall serve with all my heart.”
Hersekzade bowed his head, his face overcome with emotion.
Whether by blood or not, he was at least politically Hatice's father, and he had already risen to the position of Grand Vizier twice.
It was vexing that he had played both sides, lining up with other princes as well, but if viewed as political acumen, it could be overlooked.
Naturally, a warning was issued.
“I should hope you do nothing surprising this time. I nearly used the gunpowder I'd painstakingly gathered on you for the first time. Of course, I jest.”
Though he called it a joke, Hersekzade felt cold sweat trickle down his back at the icy glint in his eyes.
For he knew that if things had gone wrong at their first meeting, he would have enjoyed a splendid fireworks display with his entire body.
Back then, because Yusuf had been an insignificant prince, he had tested him by alluding to the foundations he had been secretly laying; now he immediately bowed his head.
“Just as Allah sees all that I do, so too shall the Padishah see.”
“I trust your words.”
It was an oath to hide nothing in all his actions.
The next position to change was the vizier, also called a minister.
“I shall dismiss Koca Mustafa Pasha, who followed the misguided Padishah Selim, and appoint Shemsi Pasha in his place.”
The vizier assisted the Grand Vizier and stood in his stead when he was absent, making it the position of highest authority after the Grand Vizier.
Koca, in particular, had been the first among the many viziers, but Yusuf placed Shemsi in that seat.
At this order, Koca simply bowed his head with a dark expression.
For it was retribution for having refused Yusuf's repeated requests for an audience when he had come to the capital by the Sultan's command.
In the original course of history, this had been the end of a man who rose to become Grand Vizier.
“In accordance with the Padishah's will, I shall contribute to the glorious empire.”
“I trust that you, whom I have watched for so long, will do well.”
His normally composed countenance nowhere to be seen, excitement suffused Shemsi's face.
For it was the moment he received his reward for a decade of backing the most unlikely prince, cast aside by the power struggles.
However, unlike what those around him thought, it was neither a simple act of retaliation nor a reward appointment.
‘There is no one who knows what was accomplished in Trabzon as well as Shemsi.’
Trabzon was a place where many trials for the empire's future had been conducted.
Many attempts had been made, such as barley tea to reduce the consumption of contaminated drinking water and lower child mortality, and the four-field crop rotation method to delay soil depletion.
There was no better talent than Shemsi to expand these throughout the Ottoman realm, and he well knew it.
Beyond that, various personnel changes took place, and Arda, who had assisted Yusuf in Trabzon, was appointed the sancak bey of Trabzon.
“Arda, your role is a weighty one. You know this, do you not?”
“Of course. I shall do my utmost so as not to disappoint you.”
Once internal stability was achieved, the Safavids would be the first enemy to face, and Trabzon was the front line.
“Please take good care of my two concubines and child as well.”
“I shall defend them with my life.”
Yusuf nodded.
He did wonder how the pregnancy had been hidden so thoroughly, but knowing this too was done out of consideration, he took no offense.
With Arda's appointment as sancak bey as well, Yusuf completed all bureaucratic reforms.
Those who had never imagined he would wield such a sharp blade so soon after his accession let out sighs of relief at Yusuf's declaration.
For his actions had been that radical.
However, the radical actions did not end there.
Below in the Divan council chamber, a boy with a haggard complexion bowed his head, and Yusuf addressed him.
“Suleiman, has your heart calmed?”
“It is all thanks to the Padishah's grace.”
Suleiman's words were not mere formality.
Though the Ottoman dynasty held that only dead brothers were true brothers, conversely, those who became “good” after dying were given proper treatment as brothers.
They properly tended to the corpse, held funerals, and buried them in decent places.
In a dynasty where fraternal bonds were deemed so worthless that even beheading seemed an insufficient measure, the use of a silk cord for execution was itself a kind of consideration.
However, Selim's case was somewhat different.
‘He had incurred too much resentment to receive such consideration.’
Those who firmly believed in Yusuf's words harbored deep malice toward Selim, openly declaring they wished to throw Selim's corpse to the dogs as food.
But Yusuf gave him proper fraternal treatment on his final journey, and Selim's body was laid to rest beside Bayezid.
Even though Yusuf was the cause of his death, Suleiman was sincerely grateful.
“Padishah, may I speak?”
In what was a somewhat amicable atmosphere, the Grand Vizier cautiously opened his mouth.
“Speak.”
“I do not claim to be ignorant of the merciful Padishah's heart, but is there a need to leave behind the seeds of strife?”
As the Grand Vizier was the first to speak, those in the Divan council expressed their agreement.
“Since the other princes are still of tender age, he could prove dangerous.”
Since the eldest, Mehmet, was merely six years old, Suleiman, who was sixteen, could become a dangerous element in the future.
It was a remote possibility, but the dynasty could not tolerate even that.
“What do you wish me to do?”
“I pray you act according to the custom that preceded the Law of Fratricide. Even that would be a merciful judgment that all would praise.”
At the Grand Vizier's request, a heavy silence fell.
For what he spoke of was no trivial matter.
“Do you wish me to take Suleiman's eyes?”
“Even if not the eyes, there are ways to take his ears or tongue.”
One might wonder what mercy there was in rendering him disabled, but if he could save his life that way, then it was mercy.
For during the reign of Mehmet III, which became the catalyst for the abolition of the Law of Fratricide, he had put to death all nineteen of his brothers—even those who had sworn loyalty and been rendered deaf and mute.
At the Grand Vizier's request, Yusuf waved his hand.
“Enough. If I make him like that, he would be too stifled to be of proper use. Suleiman.”
“Yes, Padishah.”
“Do you remember the conversation with my brother—your father, Selim?”
“…Of course, Your Majesty.”
How could he have forgotten after only a few days had passed?
It was the first day he had truly felt paternal love; he would never forget it for the rest of his life.
“My elder brother said you would prove useful, so he told me to keep you by my side for a long time.”
“That is correct.”
“However, must I exchange letters with you for decades?”
For all his confidence, it was obvious that he would regret having crippled him in a fit of anger.
Thinking about that, it would have been better to leave him unused in that remote frontier or send him back to his father’s embrace.
As Yusuf approached and pressed firmly on his head, Suleiman shed tears.
It was the same warm touch he had felt when they first met in Trabzon.
“I shall command you, Suleiman.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Suleiman and the other officials all knelt to show respect, and Yusuf gave his command.
“Strip Suleiman of his Şehzade title, and bestow upon him the title of Pasha.”
The title of Şehzade signified a successor to the throne; stripping it of him was practically a declaration that he was no longer a member of the royal family.
Suleiman immediately responded to this.
“I swear by Allah, never again shall the day come when the title of Şehzade is attached to my name.”
“Should you break this vow, may there be a curse for ten thousand generations.”
At Yusuf’s words, Suleiman bowed his head even deeper.
To take it as a mere empty threat was impossible, for Yusuf had even predicted the earthquake, and this warning was not taken lightly in the slightest.
“Suleiman Pasha.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Feeling the title of Pasha unfamiliar, Suleiman looked up as Yusuf chuckled heartily.
“Just as your father said, until the day you grow old and blind, struggle to walk leaning on a cane, and beg and plead to resign because you wish to rest—I entrust you to serve me well.”
Sweat trickled from Suleiman’s forehead.
∗ ∗ ∗
Scholars were assembled to draft urban plans, and finance ministers racked their brains to estimate restoration costs.
Somsi suffered headaches over Yusuf’s command to rapidly introduce the four-field crop rotation system throughout the Ottoman domains, and Suleiman, feeling his life threatened, dragged his friend Yaya along.
Even as officials screamed at his commands, Yusuf was busily designing future plans.
“As expected, subjugating the Mamluks first is the priority.”
Though he had set the grand goal of an empire spanning six continents, he must not become blinded by it.
The first goal was to conquer the Safavids and the Mamluks to secure the sea route to India.
‘Not just spices, but saltpeter is scattered all over India too.’
If he could mine the saltpeter buried in India, he could breathe easier regarding the most important issue of gunpowder.
He could also check Portugal while gaining enormous wealth through trade.
In an era where gold and silver were military might, this was the first goal.
If he could monopolize Eastern trade, ownerless Oceania could be taken at any time.
“The biggest problem is America, though.”
Breaking through the Strait of Gibraltar connecting the Atlantic and the Mediterranean to reach America was no ordinary feat.
If the infidel devils that were the Ottomans tried to break out into the Mediterranean, all of Europe would stake their lives to stop them.
Not to mention that Spain currently held Gibraltar firmly.
‘Still, since the European powers have yet to be born, it’s worth trying.’
Of course, much preparation was needed for that.
As Yusuf pondered repeatedly, a chamberlain’s voice reached him.
—Your Majesty, Sheikh al-Islam and the Ulama request an audience.
Sheikh al-Islam was the highest authority in Islam, holding a position equal to the Grand Vizier, and Ulama referred to Islamic scholars.
“Later than I thought.”
Smirking, Yusuf rose and went out through the Gate of Felicity, and those who had requested the audience greeted him with respect.
“We greet the great Padishah.”
“You arrived later than I expected. I thought you would come immediately after reading the letter sent throughout the Ottoman domains.”
At Yusuf’s words, the faces of the gathered men hardened.
The letter he had sent was a kind of inaugural address, from which his future rule could be indirectly discerned.
It had opened with:
—The Ottoman Empire, the Well-Protected Domains, and the one who has become the sovereign of Rum.
This expression alone would have grated on them.
The Ottomans did not yet have an official state name and used various appellations depending on the occasion.
The expression Ottoman Empire was used when emphasizing the Ottoman dynasty, and the Well-Protected Domains was the name in general use.
Rum, meaning Rome, was a term used when embracing Christians.
The expression land of Islam, which was used when emphasizing the religious aspect important to them, was missing.
Furthermore, expressions such as Allah or Islam did not appear at all in the rest of the letter.
It would have been strange if these men, the core of Islamic power, had not come running immediately. Looking down at them, Yusuf smiled slyly.
“Well, did you think I would fail to predict the earthquake that struck Edirne yesterday?”
A chilling silence descended.
<To be continued in ‘I Became the Sultan of the Ottomans’ Volume 4>