I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

＃4화. The Stakes are Life. (3)

Saabak

In young Yusuf’s eyes, the road leading to the heart of the empire was always an exciting place.

Even late at night, the lights illuminated the path, and the sight of the Janissaries standing guard with gleaming weapons was simply impressive.

Walking along that road, Yusuf silently cursed.

‘Did I really think that way seeing this scenery?’

Yusuf was certain.

The greenhorn in his memories was definitely a different being from himself.

The Janissaries he once thought were cool now appeared to be mere machines of murder, concealing their killing intent.

For them, his status as a prince and his childlike appearance were no reasons for hesitation; at the Sultan’s command, they could take his life in an instant.

‘Moreover, what’s visible isn’t everything.’

Even the gardener trimming the trees was the Sultan’s eyes and ears, belonging to the Bostanzis unit.

Yusuf walked boldly, enduring the overwhelming pressure that almost made him dizzy.

It was rather fitting. Time was not on his side.

How many times would he get to see the Sultan before his deployment? The more opportunities he had to impress with his changed demeanor, the better, as he aimed to be appointed as a Sanjakbey.

Arriving in front of the Sultan’s residence, Yusuf addressed the eunuch standing at the door.

“Announce me.”

Surprised yet fulfilling his duty at the sight of a completely different Yusuf, the eunuch complied.

“Prince Yusuf of the Sultan Empire requests an audience with the Padishah.”

Padishah is a term for the emperor, while Sultan refers to the king.

Having become an empire by annihilating Eastern Rome, the title of Padishah was more accurate than Sultan, yet just as in Russia where Tsar replaced emperor, it was conventionally used.

In formal settings like this, the term Padishah was primarily used.

– Let him in.

With a low voice, the door opened smoothly, and Yusuf cautiously stepped inside.

Before he could take in the geometric tiles and lavish golden decorations, Yusuf knelt and offered his respect.

“Yusuf stands before the Padishah.”

“Rise.”

Upon hearing the kind voice, Yusuf finally met the gaze of Bayezid II.

The bushy white beard and the white turban covering his head made him appear like a kind old man at a glance, but Yusuf did not let the appearance fool him.

To the Sultan, who treated the succession to the throne as a survival game and viewed his sons as mere tools for a single heir, this benevolent exterior was just a small aspect.

There was no need to be wary, but caution was necessary.

“Come closer.”

As he moved within reach to shake hands, Yusuf could see the cold eyes hidden behind the kind smile.

Looking through him, the Sultan stroked his beard.

“You’ve matured in such a short time.”

“Thank you.”

“Ha ha, to see you transform from such a delicate figure brings me some relief.”

He chuckled pleasantly, yet the Sultan found it rather surprising.

It hadn’t been long since he almost met his end, barely hours had passed.

Not even an ordinary person would regain their composure easily in such a short time after brushing with death.

Still, Yusuf appeared as if he hadn’t just escaped the clutches of death, and this struck him as quite curious.

“I was told you were nearly in a dire predicament. Is your body all right?”

“Thanks to the Sultan’s concern, I’ve merely got a bruise.”

“Is that so? Well, that’s a relief.”

Responding to him, the Sultan gestured to the eunuch beside him, who handed over a finely embroidered silk.

Upon unwrapping the silk, out came the vest he had worn earlier.

“I heard an interesting story while I was on the throne. Did you make this vest yourself?”

The flipped vest displayed five pockets.

Seeing the tiny pouches, which could barely hold coins, Yusuf couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh at the insignificance of it all.

It was far too trivial to bet his life on.

Having succeeded in such an outrageous gamble, now he had to cash in on his stakes, and Yusuf bowed his head to respond.

“I had my maid make it.”

“Why would you do that?”

As the Sultan touched the torn pocket pierced by a blade, Yusuf swallowed dryly.

Now he needed to deceive the Sultan.

“I dreamed a dream.”

“A dream?”

Before the Sultan could question the sudden mention of a dream, Yusuf continued.

“I was walking through a bustling crowd when I was attacked by a sinister figure, but five lights stood guard over me in that dream.”

“The five lights…”

The Sultan murmured with interest.

In Sunni Islam, the number five was sacred.

The five pillars of faith, which must be adhered to, are the declaration of faith, prayer, charity, fasting, and pilgrimage.

‘Hard to believe, but still intriguing?’

If he hadn’t been yelled at to stop making nonsense, he had already succeeded halfway. Yet, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down completely.

With renewed determination, Yusuf caught sight of the Sultan’s furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you saying you’re a prophet?”

“Surely not.”

He quickly denied it.

In Islam, Muhammad is declared the last prophet in the Quran, and uttering ‘Yes, I am a prophet’ could easily cost him his life.

“It is simply due to Allah’s blessing upon the empire, is it not?”

“Indeed, Allah looks after the empire.”

Seeing the Sultan nod, Yusuf let out a sigh of relief inwardly.

It was like walking a tightrope.

One misstep, and he would have to meet Allah sooner than anticipated.

Despite Yusuf’s excuses, the Sultan expressed his doubts.

“Then why were you wandering the streets, knowing it to be dangerous? If you think it’s just for sightseeing, think again. I already heard you’ve been roaming the streets for a long time without a destination.”

It was the question he had desperately hoped for, and Yusuf willingly provided his answer.

“It wasn’t the only dream I had; I needed to verify the truth of that dream.”

“A dream worth risking your life for, you say?”

“Indeed. I dreamed of ten pillars descending in the east of the empire.”

At his words, the Sultan’s eyes widened in surprise.

He knew all too well which group could be represented by ten pillars.

“Are you speaking of the Shia?”

“I believe it signifies that a Shia state will emerge in the east soon.”

“Ha!”

The Sultan displayed his displeasure openly.

Just as Christianity has its sects, Islam can largely be divided into Sunni and Shia.

As seen today, Saudi, a Sunni nation, and Iran, a Shia one, have a strained antagonism that dates back to the seventh century, shortly after Muhammad’s death.

While Sunni nations don’t always get along, Shia states are bound to be enemies.

“The White Sheep Dynasty will soon collapse. They’re already in ruins from civil war, so it’s not impossible.”

“…Yes, I think so too.”

The Sultan fell into deep thought.

The instability of the White Sheep Dynasty allowed for a carefree western expedition, yet if a new state truly emerged, it could become a significant obstacle later on.

The Sultan would surely want to dismiss it as nonsense.

‘The birth of the Safavid Empire on Iranian soil is an unstoppable trend.’

He didn’t want to put himself at risk for no good reason, eyeing Trabzon.

To become Sultan, he needed to win the favor of military forces such as the Janissaries and the cavalry and achieve merit.

Just like how Selim I, the next Sultan, had done.

“I will go to Trabzon. I will guard the empire from its enemies there. I believe this dream indicates that I must be the empire’s shield.”

“Trabzon? Isn’t that where Selim has been serving as Sanjakbey for a long time?”

“Indeed.”

Yusuf nodded.

Prince Selim, who would later become Selim I, the next great Sultan.

“I feel it’s inappropriate to say this, but I’ve heard there are complaints about Trabzon being far from Constantinople. I worry that they might rebel later due to this dissatisfaction.”

“…Nonsense.”

Though he spoke decisively, it was sufficient to shake the Sultan’s mind.

‘In actual history, there were indeed rebellions.’

Though such matters would happen a decade later, he could well anticipate it.

“Perhaps you should place my brother in Teke; that would alleviate some of the discontent.”

Teke was a port city on the Mediterranean coast, later known as Antalya.

After a moment of contemplation, the Sultan exhaled lightly and said.

“I will think about that a bit more and get back to you.”

Though he delayed his response, he hadn’t outright refused, so it seemed like at least half of it was accepted.

The Sultan’s mind became complex with the unexpected discussion of the princes’ fates, and he changed the subject.

“What do you wish to do about the guards who were responsible for your protection?”

It wasn’t merely granting the right to life and death; it was a test of sorts, and Yusuf bowed his head to respond.

“We’re facing a great war. All involved must be executed to set the military discipline straight.”

To say that a single word could determine someone’s life was nauseating, yet it was the response the Sultan desired.

In a family where even brothers kill each other for survival, compassion was merely a symbol of weakness, and it marked a complete farewell to Yusuf’s past self.

Satisfied with the answer, the Sultan nodded approvingly.

“I shall respect your wishes. It’s getting late, so you may go for now.”

But before leaving, there was one last play left.

“Before I depart, there is something to present to the Padishah.”

What Yusuf pulled out was a silver coin.

More accurately, it was the lowest-value currency, the aqche.

With puzzlement in his eyes, the Sultan examined the coin, noticing a large wound in the center.

“This is the aqche that saved my life today. I shall take my leave now.”

Just to be safe, he had layered the coins, and thankfully they hadn’t pierced through.

After bowing to the Sultan, Yusuf left, and after some time had passed in silence, the Sultan commanded the eunuch.

“Call the Grand Vizier at once.”

“Understood.”

As the bowing eunuch departed, the Sultan turned his attention back to the silver coin.

On the front was inscribed “Sultan Bayezid, son of Mehmet,” indicating that it was issued by him, while the back had another inscription.

“May you always be victorious… What a fine gift you’ve left behind.”

A small smile lingered at the corners of the Sultan’s mouth.

*

The devil lies in the details.

The inscription on the coin, which had become a symbol of fortune rather than some mystical prophetic dream, was minor, yet it resonated more deeply.

“For now, I’ve done all I can.”

He didn’t recklessly trust in luck alone to plan his moves.

Had the assassin not shown up, he would have considered the risk of hiring one himself.

While his survival was solely due to luck, it was not an improbable gamble.

‘There’s also a saying that beginner’s luck exists, and it’s said that shamans who just receive divine inspiration are at their strongest.’

He had bet on luck tenfold, believing it would at least grant him his life.

Of course, he could also just as easily die a miserable death.

‘Then I will die. If I wait idly, death is inevitable; I might as well risk my life for a chance.’

Honestly, narrowly escaping wasn’t exactly a tremendous stroke of luck.

For instance, the odds of survival for the Islamic hero Saladin could be deemed unrealistic in narrative terms.

Dragged into the Egyptian campaign, the Grand Vizier died after two months of food poisoning during a meal, and Saladin was appointed as the Vizier of the Fatimid Dynasty.

Six months into his Ministry, the Crusader-Byzantine coalition invaded Egypt, but internal strife and material shortages caused the coalition to collapse on its own.

When Nureddin commanded the deposition of the Fatimid king, the king died suddenly while hesitating due to popular sentiment.

While Nureddin was preparing an expedition against Saladin, he passed away, and even the Lord of Jerusalem, preparing for an Egyptian expedition, died along the way.

In comparison to Saladin’s unjustified fortune, narrowly escaping death didn’t even rank as a major stroke of luck.

‘Even if I have the ability, without luck like Saladin, it’d be impossible to become the Sultan.’

If luck was against him, it’d be better to die in this endeavor.

Fortunately, it seemed the heavens had not forsaken him.

“Now, I must prepare for the next step.”

What this gamble has given him wasn’t just the Sultan’s interest.

[Assassination Defense, Score +8]

Finally, the score reached 10 points.