I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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# Chapter 12. Two Monsters (1)

The war between Venice and the Ottoman Empire taking place now held significant historical importance.

It marked the event where Venice lost its monopoly over the Eastern Mediterranean that had lasted for centuries since the Fourth Crusade, and because the blow was too severe, Venice never faced the Ottomans alone after this.

‘That’s none of my business.’

I had my own troubles to deal with, unable to focus on the bickering happening in the west, and I didn’t have the luxury to worry.

I was already struggling to find a doctor, which had turned out to be quite a hurdle.

The realization hit me when I first met with the doctor.

“So, how do I reduce the heat in my head?”

“You need to draw out the blood that possesses the property of fire. It’s due to an excess of hot and humid blood.”

Am I talking to a doctor or a magician here?

Yusuf felt a headache coming on from all this talk about properties, and soon he recalled something.

“Avicenna?”

“Oh! You know Avicenna?”

The doctor brightened up, and Yusuf pressed his forehead.

Avicenna was a great philosopher, famous for his contributions to medicine that resonated through later generations.

He died in 1037, and his “Canon of Medicine” was regarded as the Bible of medicine until the 17th century.

‘But the problem is that the medicine of this era is quite problematic.’

The foundational theories he laid out stem from the four-element theory leading to the four-humor system.

Blood corresponds to fire, phlegm to water, yellow bile to earth, and black bile to air.

This framework dictates that treatment involves extracting excessive bodily fluids and compensating for deficiencies through diet.

Of course, this medicine isn’t completely ineffective in an era where proper drugs and surgery have yet to develop. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been in use for over 600 years.

‘But following this medical practice could lead to some absolutely nonsensical treatments.’

For example, the first president of the United States, George Washington, was treated for pneumonia by having 2.35 liters of blood drawn, causing him to die from excessive bleeding in just three days.

This bloodletting method was practiced even during the medieval plague, killing people who were showing signs of improvement.

Of course, periodic blood donation doesn’t pose a problem if done properly, but to modern eyes, the level of ignorance displayed is the problem.

Still, since the medicine I’m learning is all based on similar flawed practices, I was willing to put up with it.

“You also need a great musician for treatment.”

“A musician?”

“Yes, because music has powerful healing effects.”

“Oh! Music therapy is good for the mind. But can you please leave now?”

After sending off the bewildered doctor, Yusuf came to a solid realization.

It is essential not to fall ill in this era.

After that initial meeting, Yusuf completely gave up on internal medicine.

As long as I maintain basic hygiene like washing my hands, I can avoid most common illnesses, so I ought to focus on cleanliness.

Besides, there’s always a chance of catching something serious.

‘If that happens, then I guess I should just die.’

I fully understood that this was a world where there are no means to treat serious illnesses.

I can’t be like a sultan, conducting research to change the paradigm of current medicine.

Thinking this way made me feel at ease, and I turned my attention to finding a competent surgeon.

During this time, European surgeons were looked down upon.

They couldn’t even get treated like doctors and were in fierce competition for survival with barbers compared to the Islamic world, where circumstances were much better.

Al-Zahrawi, born in the 10th century during the Islamic Golden Age, was regarded as the father of surgery, with over 200 medical instruments he invented still recognized today.

Even among the Ottomans, Sabuncuoglu devised pediatric hydrocephalus surgery 150 years earlier than Europe.

‘Just having a surgeon working in a hospital is incomparable to Europe.’

That was the era.

Anyway, with a military doctor accompanying the Janissary troops, there were quite a few good surgeons around, and Yusuf looked for someone with a personality easy enough to read, even if he betrayed him.

The result led to a man standing in front of him.

“Let’s have a good future together, Sinan.”

“Haha, I’ll do my utmost with my surgical tools.”

Sinan, tapping his large surgical bag, wore a jovial expression.

It’s hard to believe he was once beaten up by the guards while boasting about the knives and saws he had inside.

Despite his seemingly ridiculous demeanor, he had been an effective military doctor on the frontline, and his skills were well acknowledged.

“Yeah, I’ll trust you. Hasan, show him to a place for now until we move to Trabzon.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

After sending off Sinan, Yusuf fell into thought.

The three-month period granted by the sultan had quickly passed, and it was nearly time to depart.

The hurried passing of time had been equally hectic.

Having already spent over two months in this place, he had learned the basic knowledge a Sanjakbey should possess from Şemsi, who still kept his thoughts hidden.

He had to learn various academic subjects from the six teachers that Şemsi brought along.

The information he had never encountered in modern times needed to be crammed into his average intelligence, and during the spare time left, he had to plan for the future.

It was a schedule too daunting for his mere eleven-year-old body to handle.

“Eventually, I suppose I’d look back and feel this was the easier time.”

As the thought of plunging into a bloody struggle consumed him, his heart thudded relentlessly, either from anxiety or anticipation.

While looking outside with this mixed emotion, a gentle voice reached Yusuf’s ears.

“Your Highness.”

Turning at that call, he saw a bashful blonde girl standing there.

“Aishe.”

Though she wore a simple maid’s outfit, it didn’t overshadow her appearance.

Compared to when they first met, she now sported a healthy complexion and her shiny blonde hair was elegantly tied back, revealing her beautiful neck.

In modern times, one would think her face was fit for a celebrity.

‘But still, she’s just a kid.’

At four years younger than Aishe, it was not really his place to say that, but due to his memories from modern life, it felt like looking at a cute little sister.

Yusuf grinned playfully at the lingering Aishe.

“Why are you trying to come in at night again?”

“T-that’s because Lady Fatima ordered me to. She said to tell you to come back.”

“That’s strange. She didn’t say anything about coming in at night.”

Aishe, her fair skin flushing red, hung her head low.

It was hard to imagine her as the person who used to hurl insults in the past, and Yusuf couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘She must feel embarrassed. She came in suppressing her shyness only to get scolded by me.’

It was too shocking for him to just calmly send her away for Aishe’s sake.

He thought a killer had come again.

The awkward yet surprising incident must have been a trick played by the two women.

Given how much Aishe was keeping up with the ruthless training, it only made sense they would try to get them together.

‘Fatima would appreciate this. Setting aside emotions or appearances, it’s rare to find someone like her in this era.’

She pretended to be a refined lady, but one should not be deceived by this appearance.

With her determination to curse, she endured all the filth to learn how to speak, which can’t be said to be ordinary strength.

How formidable she is that not only Hasan, the fragile-minded one, but also the five Circassian guards brought along have become paralyzed in front of Aishe.

‘If she were born a man, she would have likely become a Pasha.’

Perhaps lost in thoughts for too long, Aishe cautiously asked, “What are you thinking so deeply about?”

“I was thinking about how you could be a great general. No, wait, how about you aim to become the first female Pasha of the Ottomans?”

“No way! I’ll do something much greater than becoming a Pasha, for our dear brother and you, Your Highness.”

The term Circassian referred to people from the area known as the highlands by the sea, while in their own words, they referred to themselves as Abkhaz (Адыгэ).

Aishe’s determination was truly admirable, and Yusuf smiled gently.

“If it comes true, I’ll grant one wish of yours. Even if it means setting free a slave I bought for a hefty price.”

“If that slave trader heard that, he’d fall over from shock!”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course not! I’ll definitely remember that.”

Aishe smiled brightly like a blooming flower.

“So why did you call me?”

“Lady Fatima summoned you. She wishes to have a nice conversation with you before you leave.”

“Really? I should share what I promised you today.”

“Wah, Your Highness?!”

Seeing Aishe flapping her arms in distress, Yusuf burst into joyous laughter.

Though it was just an insignificant conversation, it lightened the burden on his complicated mind.

In the midst of the blood-soaked future, what does it matter?

‘What matters is who the owner of that blood is.’

Yusuf steadied his mind.

*

“Be careful loading it!”

The busy footsteps of laborers loading cargo onto a small vessel and four galleys were frantic.

With plenty of precious items such as gold coins and treasures bestowed by the sultan, the gazes of the onlookers were sharp.

Adding those who were traveling along with their family, it amounted to over fifty people, resulting in an inevitable abundance of cargo.

While all this loading was happening, Yusuf looked around the long oars of the impressive galleys.

There was a faint stale smell, but it wasn’t unbearable.

‘Perhaps it’s because we’re just transitioning to the scaloccio method.’

Scaloccio is a rowing method where multiple oarsmen share a single oar.

Unlike when each individual handles one oar each, the need for skilled workers was reduced, leaving room to fill the void with slaves.

This period gave birth to the concept of slave rowers who were whipped harshly.

‘There are stories that hundreds were chained together, soaked in sweat and filth, to the extent that one could recognize their ship by the stench before it even docked.’

Honestly, that level of stench is hard to imagine.

Given this kind of treatment, it’s no wonder rebellions broke out during wars leading to defeats.

‘What kind of merciless employer is counting passion pay? If the condition for victory in war had been the liberation of slaves, would there have been rebellion?’

Once I become a Sanjakbey, galleys are available for operation, so I may need to consider this.

At least it took over a hundred years to see galleys active in the Mediterranean again, and while all the cargo loading was completed.

With everyone and everything loaded onto the trading ships and galleys, the sails were unfurled wide.

On the ship cutting through the waves, Yusuf gazed back at the capital growing distant.

‘Once a prince has left the capital, the only time he returns is when he becomes a sultan.’

To survive and once again witness this landscape from the highest place.

Yusuf vowed strongly and looked straight ahead.

There was no need to linger over the land he must return to someday.

His future lies in the lands he is about to reach.

*

“Welcome! My Brother!!”

…What the hell, why are you here?

A strange foreign existence intruded upon the future.