I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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#14 Chapter. Two Monsters (3)

Yusuf was only 11 years old.

Considering that one usually needs to be at least 12 to be appointed as a Sanjakbey, being appointed six months early was quite the exceptional circumstance.

This was made possible because of Allah and the sultan’s trust gained through the knowledge he sold about the future, as well as Yusuf’s warning that even if a new kingdom did not arise, the possibility of issues brewing from the east during the war was significant.

It was the sultan’s sort of consideration for ample preparation.

In comparison to Yusuf, Suleiman was astonishingly young.

‘Well, he is five years younger than me. Is he still in kindergarten?’

It was astonishing to think that this child would grow up to be a magnificent emperor respected even in Europe, achieving remarkable results in both conquest and administration.

Selim sat Suleiman on his lap and asked Yusuf,

“How does my son appear to you, brother?”

“He looks quite intelligent, just as his name suggests.”

The name Suleiman itself was the Turkish expression of King Solomon.

Yusuf playfully added, “He’s also better looking than you.”

“Haha! Indeed, our Suleiman is smart and handsome.”

Though short in stature, the praise he received reflected a promising future.

Of course, Yusuf, who was shining with the favorable genes inherited from Fatima, was not to be outshone either.

The amiable atmosphere aside, the two brothers made Selim look like a kidnapper.

“I plan to send him to Constantinople for education next year.”

“That’s an excellent idea. There’s no better place for education.”

The school called Enderun, located in the deepest part of the Topkapi’s fourth courtyard, was responsible not only for the education of sons selected through the Devshirme system but also for princes’ education.

Due to his timid personality, Yusuf had struggled to adapt there and had been educated by a private tutor and Fatima instead.

He had endured over two months of brutal studying to cope with the accumulated lessons.

Anyway, that education was the beginning of Suleiman’s attendance at an ultra-elite course.

‘Honestly, it would be better to compete with Selim than to be born as Selim’s son and compete against Suleiman; there’s no way to win.’

If Sejong the Great was the product of the best education in Joseon, Suleiman was the epitome of Ottoman education, truly a monster in the realm of academics.

‘If I capture him later and force him to work, it might be easy to industrialize.’

Even though he couldn’t be sure of the future just a step ahead, ambition surged within him.

I could say “How can you talk about an industrial revolution now? Is it that easy?”

‘At this time, the Ottomans are closer to an industrial revolution than Europe.’

The image of the Ottomans getting completely trounced by Europe and crying out, “Hawawa, what is this industrial revolution?” came to mind, causing a headache.

From the 9th to the 13th centuries, Islam embraced various cultures and made significant achievements in both the sciences and literature, leading to the Islamic Golden Age, and the Ottomans inherited this legacy.

Thanks to that, even until the 16th century, the Ottomans steadily progressed in scientific development.

‘They fell victim to the backlash of religion.’

From the 17th century onward, the Islamic spirit became paramount, leading to the disappearance of mathematics, philosophy, and astronomy from the school curriculum, which ultimately resulted in scientific decline.

In just a few decades, the Ottomans would possess the scientific prowess to create even basic steam engines.

Thinking this way, Yusuf could sincerely offer words of encouragement.

“When you go to the capital, make sure to study hard for the future.”

As he gently tousled Suleiman’s hair, the surprised face of Suleiman soon broke into a bright smile as he nodded.

“Yes! I will do my best.”

His small fist clenched in determination did not look like it belonged to a man born to a bandit leader, but rather was quite adorable.

Though the future was uncertain.

‘If I become sultan, I wouldn’t necessarily have to kill my nephew.’

His brothers, however, would need to be dealt with.

Hiding intention behind laughter, Yusuf spoke to Selim.

“It’s getting late, shouldn’t we wrap up?”

“Hmm, it wouldn’t be nice to keep our new guests confined for too long.”

Selim readily agreed, and the banquet concluded swiftly under the will of the two rulers.

As Selim looked at Yusuf leaving the banquet hall, he said,

“Thanks to you, I had an enjoyable banquet.”

“I feel a bit regretful, though. I wish it could have been a banquet I hosted for you.”

If only he could serve a drink that tasted of heavy metals instead of radioactive black tea.

“Surely such an opportunity will come someday?”

“When that happens, I’ll be sure to treat you.”

As the last supper, of course.

Yusuf swallowed his next words.

When the brothers meet again in the future, they would only do so to kill each other.

*

Back in the room he had occupied for almost twenty years, Selim wiped the subtle smile from his face.

He turned to his son, who had followed him into the room, and asked,

“Suleiman.”

“Yes, Father.”

“How did you find it?”

There was no need to ask who he was referring to, and Suleiman fidgeted with his hands as he pondered.

He didn’t feel like his father’s brother when he first saw him.

Although he had heard it before, seeing it in person felt quite different due to the vast age difference, and Selim was probably quite sorry, but their appearances were too dissimilar.

This difference sparked curiosity, and his maturity for his age was enough to inspire admiration.

As Suleiman continued his thoughts, his hand unknowingly reached up to his head.

‘It felt warm.’

The warmth of the hand that had patted his head still lingered.

“He seemed like a good person.”

“A good person, you say… Suleiman.”

At Selim’s suddenly stern voice, Suleiman flinched.

Seeing this weak appearance displeased Selim, who slightly furrowed his brow and said coldly,

“A good brother for a prince is only a dead one, like your brothers.”

Suleiman merely nodded slightly at Selim’s words devoid of any paternal affection.

With Suleiman’s head bowed, a cold hand was roughly placed upon it.

“Just follow your father’s words. Then, you will become the next ruler of the empire.”

“…Understood.”

As he watched his son nod obediently, Selim’s expression became one of satisfaction as he sent Suleiman away.

Left alone in the room, Selim stroked his beard as he reflected on the day.

Trabzon was a place of mixed feelings for him.

Ever since he had inherited it, after the death of his older brother Abdullah, whom he hadn’t even seen properly once, he had spent most of his life in Trabzon.

He had come to feel that this place, now more than the faded memories of the capital, was his true home.

But this place had now become a prison to him.

In a far-off land far from the capital, a border where no one took much interest.

When he realized he had to slowly wither away here while worrying about his other brothers becoming sultans, an agonizing suffocation enveloped him.

No matter how he struggled, he felt like he was trapped in a swamp from which there was no escape, filled with rage and despair.

‘At that time, a command was issued.’

That a young brother who had never seen the position would fill it.

When he later heard that the brother had volunteered for this position, joy was overshadowed by a dreadful suspicion.

So he waited and met him.

“Prince Yusuf, should I kill you or spare you?”

If a mysterious death occurred, the first person suspected would definitely be himself, so it was a risky move.

“Every instinct of mine tells me to kill you.”

Selim looked up at the night sky, which reflected not a single beam of moonlight.

Should he ignore his instincts or take the risk?

As Selim’s worries deepened, he recalled the words Yusuf had spoken for Selim’s slave, and made his decision.

“Brother, do not covet that which is not in your hands.”

If you wish to live even a day longer.

*

Yusuf patted the shoulder of Aishe, who had followed him to the room with an excited face.

“I didn’t mean to put you through such a rough situation.”

“No, I’m worried that it’s because of me that your relationship with them has soured. Rather…”

Her hands clutching her skirt trembled, and Yusuf responded to her courage.

“Eek!”

“If you’re going to blather nonsense, just go take a nap.”

Addressing Aishe, who rubbed her forehead after receiving a light slap, Yusuf continued brusquely.

“Just because you’re told you’re pretty, don’t think you’ve become something special; you’re still a slave, you know? Do you really think a mere slave could ruin the bond between princes?”

No, there was never any bond to begin with.

If there had been a bond, their lives wouldn’t have temporarily swayed like this.

“And as I said, I’m not the kind of person who would easily let go of what I have.”

He was someone who would turn the Ottomans upside down and aim for the sultanate to protect his own life.

If someone wanted to take what was in his hand, they naturally would have to risk their lives.

Without saying a word, Yusuf brushed Aishe’s hair as she kept her head down.

“Don’t think about pointless things and go rest quietly. Once you become the owner of this place, you’ll have plenty to do.”

“…Understood.”

Aishe, unable to lift her face until the end, rushed out of the room, and Yusuf clicked his tongue briefly.

“Selim, I really don’t like this guy.”

Neither of them had any intention of trusting each other, yet their actions reminded him of radioactive tea from Russia.

Well, it wasn’t entirely fruitless.

He certainly got a clearer idea of the atmosphere in this place.

“Indeed, it seems necessary to clearly establish who the master is going forward. It will be painful, but there’s no other way.”

If he missed the previous owner, then he couldn’t help it; he would create a situation so reminiscent of the previous one that he’d go completely insane.

Of course, if he just barged in, the lodger would push him out, not the stone stuck in place.

So, he had to start splitting this group that had become unified.

“I have a few ideas that come to mind, but I need to investigate before laying out any plans.”

As Yusuf toyed with a ducat gold coin while lost in thought, he decided to set this matter aside for now.

He had plenty of time to move after Selim left.

“Let’s set that aside for now. As for Selim, that’s one thing, but Suleiman is the real dilemma.”

Should he spare him?

He looked cute now, but in a decade when succession battles broke out, he’d become a nephew.

Who knows if that innocent face would ask, “Uncle, can I measure how deep your blade goes into my neck?”

Succession was fundamentally about brotherly conflict, but even a nephew would be killed if he became a nuisance; that was how succession wars worked in this era.

“I still don’t know.”

He decided to think simply.

If Suleiman became an obstacle to him becoming sultan, he would have to kill him. If he could possibly spare him, he could use Suleiman like a laborer.

He came to a tidy conclusion, but if there was a desire, it was that.

“I hope I can spare him.”

That was because the bright face of a 6-year-old child lingered in his mind.

Tiredness washed over him following the long journey and power struggles with Selim, and just as he thought of going to sleep, a notification appeared.

[Assassination Avoided, Score +1]

“…What the hell, this damn brother?”

Selim would definitely attempt to kill.

Yusuf promised himself.