I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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Prince of Africa (1)

Fortifying the port on the island of Taiwan wasn’t an easy task.

The inevitable friction with the indigenous people wasn’t the biggest issue. The biggest problems were the pests encountered in the unfamiliar environment and the unpredictable weather.

Still, with a stable supply of goods through Malacca and India, fortifying went smoothly, and we managed to capture pirates roaming the seas from time to time, extracting useful information from them.

“The Portuguese are everywhere. They’ve got a wide reach.”

Suleiman clicked his tongue while observing the soldiers standing guard with fearful expressions.

At a glance, the sturdy-looking walls and cannons trained on the sea seemed quite threatening, but it was just a small fort intended for stalling rather than stopping anyone.

If he wanted, with a fleet of thirty ships, he could turn it into rubble in no time.

Of course, he intended to forge peaceful relations, so he had no plans for such atrocities.

“By the way, this is taking a while. I wish they’d at least send a response.”

“From what I hear about the surrounding circumstances, they might have a hard time making a decision.”

Suleiman nodded at Ibrahim’s words.

Tribute trade, known as the “Ganhap Trade,” was going on between the Ming and the Shogunate, but a conflict broke out between the Ouchi and Hosokawa clans in Ningbo.

As if burning ships wasn’t enough, they even murdered officials from the Ming Dynasty, causing significant friction between the two countries, leading to the Ningbo Incident.

On top of that, the Japanese pirates, who had received weaponry from the Portuguese fleet, started using them, prompting the Ming to impose a severe maritime ban.

“It’s a tough decision with such a marine embargo that doesn’t allow for proper smuggling. I’ve heard news that the Portuguese have invaded recently, too.”

“And rumors suggest that Joseon has been suffering from pirate attacks lately as well, which only adds to the difficulty.”

“But I hope they won’t test our patience for too long.”

The Ottoman fleet had quelled a few incursions by Japanese pirates along the route, but frankly, they were not difficult opponents.

Most of them were small and fast boats, and they were wiped out before they could even set foot on an Ottoman ship.

There were many who were growing impatient waiting for a foe that could make them fumble against even those pirates.

“How about pushing into their stronghold and talking it out? Sometimes, cannons can be good conversation starters.”

Suleiman shook his head at the bold suggestion of his brother Barbarossa’s younger sibling, Hacir.

Perhaps unable to shake off the days as a pirate, he had a bit of a radical edge.

“Let’s just wait a little longer. I believe a response will come.”

It wouldn’t be too late to decide after the response came, but how long had it been since he had to wait?

Just as he was buried in thoughts disappointing at the lack of a proper response today, he heard—

“Pasha, an envoy has arrived from Joseon.”

“Finally, they’ve come.”

Suleiman climbed up to the deck, spotting a man in unfamiliar attire alongside soldiers escorting him.

The man, sporting a turban, greeted Suleiman, familiarizing himself with the attire of the soldiers.

“I am Yun Eun-bo, appointed as the Deputy Prime Minister of Joseon. I didn’t expect to meet a Hui person here on Korean soil.”

Suleiman nodded as he received the words translated in Ming language.

“Pleasure to meet you. I am Suleiman Pasha from the Ottoman Empire. I’ve heard there were once followers of Allah in this land.”

“In the past century, we have assimilated with the Korean people. It’s unsuitable to maintain our clothing and culture as it would create a disconnect.”

The Hui, who practiced Islam, had a long history in the Korean peninsula, and back in the early Joseon period, they lived while maintaining their religion and attire.

During his audience with King Sejong, the King received Hui blessings for his health through recitations of the Quran and Islamic prayers amidst the ranks of civil and military officials.

However, during Sejong’s reign, in response to a request from the Ministry of Rites, the difference in Hui attire was prohibited and the blessings were abolished, leading to the assimilation of many Muslims into Korean society.

Yun Eun-bo shared this fact and quickly surveyed Suleiman.

Those who opposed this meeting cited religion as a reason, claiming it was unfortunate.

“That’s a sad story, but there’s little we can do. This land is yours.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Yun Eun-bo felt relieved to find that his counterpart was more accommodating than he expected.

Given that he had come back as a Ming envoy after facing a Portuguese raid, he was aware of the fleet right before him that had turned Ganghwa Island into shambles with just five ships before vanishing smoothly.

‘This is a dangerous opponent if turned hostile.’

Having arrived in this place and scanned the ship, his concerns grew even larger.

Turning the Japanese pirates into enemies was on a completely different level of complication. Feeling Yun Eun-bo’s tense demeanor, Suleiman gently asked,

“So what kind of answer have you brought with you?”

Yun Eun-bo swallowed dryly.

Originally, there were plenty of opposition opinions, and they had planned to reject it, but due to urgent reports from the south, the response from the court had flipped.

“I hear you are of royal blood in your homeland. Is that true?”

“Indeed.”

“Upon hearing this news, His Majesty was willing to grant a meeting, but due to a large-scale invasion by the Japanese pirates from the south, there arose no time for it.”

As Yun Eun-bo subtly assessed the atmosphere, Suleiman twisted his lips into a grin.

“Do you think of the imperial fleet as mercenaries?”

“Please consider this a process to establish a good relationship.”

Suleiman, who had been stroking his beard in contemplation, nodded.

He thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to flex military might once, for undermining Japanese pirates was a common interest for the Ottomans.

“Very well. I shall accept your proposal. However…”

Suleiman cut off mid-sentence and bared his teeth dangerously.

“If this leads to results diminishing the Empire, be prepared to bear the consequences.”

Yun Eun-bo nodded at Suleiman’s warning.

A little while later, word spread that the foreign fleet had not only defeated a hundred pirate ships without a hitch but also increased its numbers by twenty, reaching a total of fifty ships. The court, which had been inclined to place the blame on Ming, shifted its stance.

With the permission secured, Suleiman boarded the ship, which sailed upriver against the Han River, marking a Hui’s entry into the palace for the first time in a century.

*

Yusuf took a sip of coffee.

“Isn’t it nice?”

He spoke to Şemsi, who looked tired, while observing the newly painted portrait that rested on the chair.

With so many people to include in a family portrait, the chances of having another drawn like this were slim, making it quite a treasured piece for Yusuf.

Knowing the secret of that portrait, Şemsi voiced his concerns.

“If it gets known who painted that portrait, it will cause an uproar.”

“That’s fine.”

Yusuf replied nonchalantly, having insisted that Michelangelo paint it.

Only a very few knew it was painted by Michelangelo, and there was no one left to gossip about it until they joined him in the grave.

Even if it were to be discovered.

“At that point, we could always just resort to castration.”

Of course, it was a joke. No one’s authority was weak enough for a man painting a royal family portrait to cause a stir.

The reason he had been advising Michelangelo about castration was to avoid any small noises, but now that didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Such minor concerns were now likely to go unnoticed.

“Right, it’s noisy because of the abdication, isn’t it?”

“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? There are strong opposing voices against the abdication.”

“It’s not as if it’s unprecedented.”

Back during his great-grandfather Murad II’s time, there was a precedent for signing a humiliating treaty and abdication of the Sultanate to Mehmet II.

When the news that the 13-year-old Mehmet II became Sultan reached Hungary, they broke the treaty and invaded, allowing him to be reinstated.

“Doesn’t that imply that the Padishah is beloved by the subjects?”

“If there had been no reaction at all, I would have found it upsetting.”

“I would like to relay that answer to the officials struggling with the flood of protest letters coming in from all over the Empire.”

“You’re quite mischievous.”

Yusuf chuckled lightly.

Those capable of sliding protest letters to the officials were esteemed individuals, and their correspondence couldn’t simply be brushed aside.

The appropriate officials had to reply, inevitably increasing the workload.

If they had personally heard this response, many would surely have found it hard to handle.

“Fifteen years. This surge of chaos will surely settle down someday.”

While the situation might worsen again when the time for abdication approached, he believed the current unrest would calm down after some time.

“Hassan, how is the reaction from the West?”

The gathering of princes in the capital wasn’t something that only the Ottomans noticed.

The West, which would be significantly impacted by the movements of the Ottomans, would undoubtedly be keeping a close eye on this and would have swiftly received shocking news.

“The Padishah’s fifteen-year term isn’t short, so there hasn’t been any dramatic reaction. However, there seems to be hope for the future in fifteen years.”

“There will be many who would feel quite discouraged if the promise is broken.”

“You’re right.”

Yusuf smiled gently at Şemsi, who appeared to have accepted the insight.

“The Padishah doesn’t make false promises.”

People can tell a lie once in a while, but going back on something of such significance wasn’t considered wise.

Yusuf tapped his fingers on the armrest.

“Fifteen years.”

With this declaration, the constraints of fifteen years were not just on the princes but also on Yusuf himself.

Though it might feel lengthy at first, considering that it takes at least several years to implement any system, it was absolutely not long.

‘No matter how short it may feel, I must not let impatience take over.’

For impatience breeds greed.

Setting a fifteen-year limit while calming chaos, conducting the ceremony, and transitioning formally would make 1-2 years pass in a blink.

It would take around seventeen years for the princes to receive full authority, so the maximum time granted was indeed fifteen years.

The die was cast, and it was up to Yusuf to accomplish as much as he could in the span of fifteen years before handing over the keys.

Looking at Şemsi, he said, “Fifteen years isn’t long. It will be impossible to retire during that time.”

“…It would be quicker to die. Please keep in mind my age.”

Being in the early sixties, Şemsi’s lament was no exaggeration, but Yusuf remained firm.

“Rest can wait until after death.”

“Hassan, would you care to offer your title to the Padishah?”

“That is rather rude, but I was thinking along those lines myself.”

Yusuf grinned at the two’s banter about devils.

Having endured all sorts of hardships together since Trabzon, it was a joke that could be made.

If it had been anyone else, they would have found their heads on the gibbet.

“That’s enough joking for now; there’s a lot of work to come. So, the next fifteen years will be chaotic.”

Though Yusuf was filled with all sorts of knowledge, he had no intention of forcibly introducing it to the Empire.

‘The development of weaponry is constrained to flintlock rifles at the moment.’

In actual history, it took over a century for flintlock rifles to fully replace matchlocks.

This was due to price and production issues; even the Ottomans, who had adopted flintlocks much earlier, had not yet moved to full replacement.

Introducing rifled guns, which would require even greater costs and time, would be out of the question, and pushing for anything beyond that was utterly useless.

‘Scientific and technological advancement follows a similar pattern.’

Once capital accumulates, and education expands, talent will naturally emerge.

Rushing for rapid development could lead to bizarre situations.

Ultimately, it was considered best to leave such development to the tide of time, and Yusuf turned to Şemsi.

“Şemsi Pasha, how do you perceive the current institutions of the Empire?”

“There are many small areas that need adjustments, but I think they are the best for now.”

“Then there’s no need to alter the larger framework. We only need to be prepared for when the current systems become outdated.”

No matter how good a system or law is, it has a lifespan. Laws must change as the situation of the nation changes.

‘The issue lies with my reputation.’

Yusuf’s reputation was so prominent that when the time came for necessary reforms, it could be challenging to enact them.

Outdated reasoning, that he had to carry on the will of the great Padishah, could weigh heavily.

‘For now, there’s no choice but to leave warnings.’

Failing to change a worn-out system and maintaining it could lead to the Empire’s collapse, turning it into an object of ridicule.

Contemplating what needed to be prioritized first and what could be postponed, Yusuf broke the lengthy silence.

“We need to focus on agriculture first.”

“Agriculture?”

Şemsi had an expression of surprise.

Given that introducing new farming methods would be the least troublesome area, agriculture was in fact the most stable field.

“Yes, with the growing population, there will eventually be limits to food supply.”

The Ottomans had vast territories, but many of those lands were difficult to farm.

With the population growing explosively, there would eventually be food issues that would catch up.

“Is there a solution?”

Rising from his seat, Yusuf pressed his hand against a large map hung on one wall.

“We must seize this area.”

Pointing to the northwestern region of the African continent, Şemsi let out a sigh.

“I don’t know why, but it won’t be easy. Spain will resist fiercely.”

“I’m not trying to come out through the Mediterranean via the strait. This land is worth capturing even if it means going overland from Algiers.”

“What exactly is there to make you think that way?”

“It’s fertilizer.”

This was land known as the Sahara Desert in modern times, rich in guano, a nitrogenous mineral.

Though it might not be useful immediately due to extraction technologies, it was crucial land to secure for the future.

‘I should assign this to Murad.’

That’s exactly what a prince is for, isn’t it?

And the first task has now fallen upon one of the princes.