I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The world is vast (3)

Vroom!

Yusuf lightly patted the excited horse as he gazed at the enemy formation.

Having trod countless battlefields as Yusuf, this was the first time he felt such a peculiar sensation about a war.

“Is the formation ready?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. All preparations for battle are complete.”

Mehmet wiped the sweat from his brow as he replied.

Although not much time was wasted in Belgrade, the distance to Mohács, about 150 km south of Budapest, in Constantinople was quite considerable.

It was already late June, and the oppressive heat had arrived, leaving the Ottoman army weary from marching a more extended distance than the enemy.

If the enemy were making reasonable judgments, they should have attacked before the exhausted troops could even properly form.

“Your Majesty, do you know why they’re just watching us?”

Mohács is a plain area but littered with swamps, and the Hungarians, who arrived first, had several opportunities to seize the advantage in battle.

If they had attacked while crossing the wetlands or even before their formation was complete, the Ottomans would have started the war from a rather disadvantageous position.

Yet they merely watched while the Ottomans formed up.

“Well, they might think that attacking an unprepared enemy goes against chivalry.”

“Surely in a war, they wouldn’t pass up such a golden opportunity for such absurd reasons?”

The Islamic realm has a concept similar to chivalry under the name of “Futuwah,” but Mehmet looked confused.

It seemed unbelievable that they would commit atrocities in a war where the nation’s fate was at stake while invoking chivalry.

“Or perhaps they just didn’t want to leave the battlefield they had set up?”

Though plenty of irrationalities had occurred in warfare under the banner of chivalry, considering the chaotic situation in Hungary, merely leading their army was a miracle.

Leading in place of Ruyos, Tomori Pal must have been a commander with more than basic competence and couldn’t possibly be that foolish.

Yusuf glanced at the enemy formation.

They had the Danube River behind them, avoiding encirclement, with swamps on one side and hills on the other.

Several tributaries flowing from the Danube complicated the battle, and the Hungarian army, outnumbered, had taken the best possible formation.

“Of course, even considering that, it’s still questionable to choose the plains as a battlefield.”

To wage war on the plains implied delusions about annihilating the Ottoman forces with cavalry.

Especially against the Ottomans, who had roots in nomadic tribes.

“I understand the confusion, but Mehmet.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t overthink it. Just focus on the enemy right in front of you.”

The Ottoman army took up their traditional formation.

Irregular troops, the Azabs and Akincis, were placed at the front, with Sipahis and Janissaries in the rear to conserve the elite forces.

The enemy had infantry and artillery in the center, flanked by cavalry on both sides.

While the center held, cavalry surged ahead, indicating confidence in their troopers.

“Just looking at the enemy formation reveals the truth. My past foes, now in Allah’s embrace, must be laughing at them.”

To even think about a strength contest against the Ottomans on the plains!

If they truly understood the wars the Ottomans had waged up until now, they would never have entertained such a notion.

“Grand Vizier.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Let’s begin.”

As Yusuf’s command rang out, the Ottoman army started to move with the sound of horns signaling the advance.

The battle of the Mohács plains began.

*

With every step, one foot sank into the mud.

The sound of clattering hooves echoed in the ears of the soldiers as they stepped onto the ground trodden by their advancing comrades.

As the Ottoman army advanced, the Hungarian center fired cannonballs, and projectiles from about fifty cannons rained above the Ottoman soldiers.

-Crack!

“Don’t stop! Keep moving!”

Although comrades next to him were crushed by cannon fire, the commander urged them on.

Knowing full well that stopping meant death, the soldiers gripped their firearms tightly, determined to avoid becoming the next unfortunate casualty.

Bearing the falling shells in silence, as they pressed closer to the enemy, a tremendous roar erupted from behind.

With something soaring through the air, the Ottoman soldiers saw hundreds of projectiles passing over their heads.

“It’s our artillery fire! Don’t stand there like a fool, move!”

Bolstered by the relentless rain of cannonballs on the enemy formation, the Ottoman troops quickened their pace.

As the enemy closed in, the irregular raiding cavalry, the Akincis, nocked arrows and charged.

“Archbishop!”

“Get ready!”

Tomori Pal, the Archbishop of Károly in Hungary and a key commander in the war, quickly assessed the battlefield.

The flames of battle, which began at the center, quickly spread to both flanks.

Employing the nomadic tactic of hit-and-run known as “Swarm,” the Akincis and Sipahis pushed the Hungarian forces back with support from infantry.

Surveying the rapidly changing situation, Tomori lowered the faceguard of his helmet.

The Rumelian Sipahis, equipped similarly to European knights, seemed to retreat to regroup, and Tomori brandished his spear.

“Charge!”

“Charge! Charge!”

With Tomori’s command, the heavy cavalry on the right wing launched their charge.

Unexpectedly, the sudden push from the Hungarian cavalry threw the Ottoman right into chaos.

Assaulting like a wave powered by iron, the heavy cavalry’s onslaught was tough for the poorly trained irregulars to withstand.

-Thud! Bang!

Hastily loaded and fired bullets often missed their target, and the slushy ground made it difficult to firmly plant bayonets.

Unstopped, the Hungarian heavy cavalry penetrated straight through the Ottoman front lines.

-Whee!

“Ahhh!”

The heavy cavalry’s thrashing was a lethal weapon, and as the infantry and cavalry spilled blood, Tomori pushed straight through the opening.

‘If I can just kill the infidel emperor, there’s still a chance!’

For this one move, Tomori braced himself, battering away the thrusts from aimed bayonets with clenched teeth.

The world seemed red from the blood of comrades and foes alike, and the heat pouring from his clingy armor dulled his senses.

Mechanically swinging his arms as he broke through the enemy’s front, Tomori looked forward to an open view when blood splattered prominently on his face.

“Hahaha! How could my father have known!”

Murad, with a pistol shorter than a musket, blasted the enemy’s head apart and stowed his gun before raising a large sword.

Staying put here had proven to be an excellent opportunity.

The somewhat blunt sword sent the knight reeling back, and before anyone could marvel at the strength of a man, another gunshot rang out.

“Follow Prince Murad!”

“Kill at least one more, even at the cost of our lives!”

The black soldiers, with bloodshot eyes visible against their darkened faces, pulled the triggers while eying the swords descending overhead.

They had to prove their worth for the future of their kin, likely to be captured and turned into slaves like themselves.

Tangled in with the fleeing soldiers, the heavy cavalry struggled to find footing while Murad threw his sword directly at Tomori, clad in the finest armor.

“Gak!”

The sword pierced through a gap in the resilient iron armor, driving straight into Tomori, and the Hungarian cavalry gasped in horror.

“Archbishop!”

“The Archbishop?”

Remembering that there was only one person among the enemy known as the Archbishop, Murad roughly yanked the blade from Tomori’s chest.

Shaking with pain, Tomori’s body slumped, and Murad swung his sword at the Archbishop’s neck.

“Nothing too special.”

As he carelessly raised Tomori’s head, the cavalry quickly lost their fighting spirit.

*

As Hungary’s anticipated breakthrough on the right wing was thwarted, their forces rapidly collapsed.

The central troops, barely holding out against the devastating gunfire from the front lines, began to retreat frantically upon hearing of Tomori’s death.

With nothing but the singular resolve to survive, the fleeing Hungarian troops cared not for rank or station, resulting in chaos before Yusuf.

“Tsk, foolish.”

Yusuf clicked his tongue upon seeing the body of Ruyos II, drowned with a terrified expression on his face.

Just like in history, he fled and ended up drowning after falling from his horse, another result of panic.

Though the outcome of drowning was the same, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

‘It’s highly likely that a young coward in his early twenties would fall into a river.’

He must have turned into the fleeing mass of soldiers, and with the weight of his armor, if he didn’t receive help at the moment of falling, drowning would be inevitable.

“Grand Vizier, what’s the battle report?”

“We suffered about a thousand casualties, and the enemy over twenty thousand. It’s a great victory.”

For a battle lasting less than two hours, those were substantial casualties, while the bulk of enemy losses came as they retreated.

“Murad, I heard your role in this war was significant. Well done.”

“It was nothing important.”

It hadn’t been difficult to catch the cavalry slowed down from breaking through the front lines.

“We need to ensure proper rewards and punishments. I’ll arrange a bonus separately.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Responding this way, Murad stole a glance at Mehmet.

Though it would be reasonable to show some emotion since his rival had distinguished himself, Mehmet appeared indifferent.

“Brother, I’ve achieved some merits here.”

“Good job.”

Receiving such brief praise, Murad wore a glum expression while Yusuf chuckled lightly at the two’s silent rivalry.

It seemed both of them understood that competing for achievements on a battlefield was utterly pointless.

“Mehmet, what do you think the next steps should be?”

“Under usual circumstances, we need to suspect the enemy might set traps.”

Had Murad failed to properly defend the right wing, they might have felt a chill down their spines, but overall the situation seemed like a suicide charge by the cavalry.

That Hungary, which had held back the Ottomans for decades, could end like this was astonishing, and the ministers nodded in agreement.

“However, even if we suspect there’s a psychological trap, from a rational perspective, the losses this time are too great to just be a trap.”

Mehmet’s gaze shifted toward the dead Ruyos.

Even if the Hungarian monarchy was at its weakest, it would be absurd to bait traps using a king as bait.

“The only threat to the Empire is time. Let us advance directly to Buda.”

“That’s an excellent suggestion.”

They shouldn’t be swayed by the fame that Hungary had built over decades.

Following Mehmet’s advice, the Ottoman army, leaving some of their troops to tidy up the battlefield, advanced straight to Budapest.

*

In the future, Hungary’s capital, known as Budapest, would be a city formed by the merging of two cities, Buda and Pest, separated by the Danube River.

Before the bridge connecting them was built in the 19th century, the two cities were linked solely by water, existing in complete segregation.

Buda, as the center of Hungary, resembled a poor district in proximity to Pest.

Budapest, the capital of Hungary that first embraced the Renaissance, excluding Italy, was a beautiful city.

With Buda Castle, built in the 14th century, as its centerpiece, magnificent architecture showcased Buda’s splendor.

When the Ottoman army, contemplating a siege to conquer Buda, arrived, they were greeted by wide-open gates and a nearly ghost town Buda.

“Your Majesty, it seems most citizens have fled.”

While the defenders of beleaguered Belgrade still held out with seven hundred men, the fact that not a single troop remained to guard Buda, Hungary’s capital, left the commanders uneasy.

There were no defenders, let alone Hungarians; the only ones left were the Jews.

“Ah, they all ran away, didn’t they?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

Salamon, who came as a representative of the remaining Jews, bowed his head, while the ministers gazed at Buda with anxious expressions.

“Your Majesty, is it not strange for the capital to be left like this?”

“Perhaps it would be better to consider withdrawing the army with caution.”

They reacted with unease rather than delight at an easy bloodless entry, which showed just how suspicious they felt.

“Very well, if it feels suspicious that it’s too easy, then that’s just Hungary for you.”

That anxiety had continuously haunted Suleiman in the original history, but Yusuf, aware that Hungary’s irregularities were the norm, gave the order.

“Let’s absorb the lands held by Ruyos before others lay claim.”

Due to the familial links among royalty, the dual monarchy system where one individual governed multiple countries, like Charles V, happened frequently.

Ruyos II was the king of Hungary, Croatia, and Bohemia. With Ruyos’ death, many would be eager to lay claims on the vacant territories.

None could imagine that Hungary would fall so easily; thus, as much land as possible had to be seized.

Receiving Yusuf’s command, the Ottoman forces promptly set to work.

*

“…Hungary has collapsed? So quickly?”

Ferdinand I, governing on behalf of the Holy Roman Empire, appeared flabbergasted.

“Is it true?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Really?”

“…Indeed.”

Ferdinand pinched himself, unsure whether he was dreaming or awake.

The rush of pain confirmed reality, yet he still found it hard to believe.

The same shock was felt throughout the Western nations that received news of this rapid development, hitting them hard.