I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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Unexpected Results (1)

The strait that separates the Mediterranean Sea from the Atlantic Ocean.

To the north lies Europe, and to the south, Africa, where two fleets faced each other.

A Spanish fleet of 12 ships and an Ottoman fleet of 10 ships.

While battles aren’t just about numbers, and the performance of cannons also matters, it was clear who would have the advantage if a fight broke out in Spain’s backyard.

“Admiral.”

“Wait for a response.”

In the central part of the standoff, two galleys faced each other.

As the conversation dragged on, suggesting things weren’t going well, the crew watched the situation with anxious faces.

A moment’s slip could incite an all-out brawl.

Fortunately, perhaps the discussion concluded without incident, the galleys returned to formation, and the Admiral questioned the Captain of the galley taking the lead.

“What did the Ottomans say?”

“…I’m sorry, Admiral. They’re just repeating their demand to either clear the way or have a dialogue between our ships.”

“And if they continue to block us?”

“They are waiting, citing the treaty, but there’s no telling how long that patience will last.”

“Arrogant infidels!”

The Admiral gritted his teeth.

The peace treaty with the Ottomans had prevented the worst-case scenario of their intervention, but as expected, it had resulted in increased pirate activity.

All the burden of that has fallen squarely on the shoulders of the Spanish navy; so, it wasn’t surprising that tensions were high. With the shameless Ottoman fleet riding on the coattails of pirates, anger boiled over.

“Fine! Let me see that smug face of yours!”

While the true reason for crossing the strait remained unclear, there was still some rationality in prioritizing the treaty over a blockade.

Still, seeing the face of the opposing admiral would be somewhat satisfying.

With that decision, the Spanish ship advanced, matched by the movement of the Ottoman ship.

‘Quite large.’

As they drew closer, the other galley towered higher, giving them an advantage to look down upon the Spanish crew.

The Admiral, understanding the significant impact such a height difference could have in close-quarters combat, felt unease but maintained a calm demeanor.

Having come this far, retreat was not an option.

Splash!

The waves stirred as the two vessels drew close enough to hear the creaks of the wooden hulls.

And then the Spanish crew shouted.

“Crazy bastards!”

“Are they out of their minds, trying to collide?! I hope they’re not infidel lunatics!”

The Ottoman galley was so close they could have collided at any moment; the Spanish crew hurled insults in anger.

Just the height difference allowed them to barely see the turbans on the heads of the Ottoman troops.

With the barrels peeking over the railing, it felt like they could be aimed at them at any moment, sending chills down their spines. Then, a dark figure suddenly appeared.

Boom!

With a heavy landing, the deck screamed as a burly man stood up after hopping aboard without permission.

Startled by the sudden appearance, the men brandishing their weapons glanced at him and the newcomer growled.

“If you can’t handle that iron piece, you’d best put it back where it belongs.”

The meaning was clear enough, even if the words weren’t fully understood; seeing dozens of gun barrels trained on them made their intentions evident.

The soldiers, feeling the overwhelming intimidation from the guns that looked ready to belch smoke, were at a loss. The Admiral gave his order.

“Lower your weapons. It seems a distinguished guest has arrived.”

At the Admiral’s command, the Spanish soldiers sheathed their swords, and an Ottoman sailor stepped down onto the Spanish deck for translation.

Despite being aware that the flames of Spain’s matchlocks could turn on him at any moment, the burly man remained relaxed as he asked the Admiral.

“Do you know who I am?”

“With your distinctly larger stature, and being youthful enough to command the Ottoman fleet, there’s only one man it could be, given those rare conditions. What brings you here, Prince Murad?”

At the Admiral’s explanation, Murad smirked.

“You needn’t concern yourself with the Empire’s matters. You must decide whether to fight me here or clear the way. It’s one or the other.”

“…This is our kingdom’s territory.”

“To my eyes, it looks like nothing but the sea. Next time, at least stick a flag in the ground to clarify. If you could peg it in the sea, that is.”

With that mocking response, the Admiral clenched his fists.

Ignoring the Admiral’s reaction, Murad drew his sword from its sheath and slammed it onto the deck.

The solid deck cracked slightly, creating a loud sound, causing the Spanish crew to flinch.

“Make your decision. Will you block me or will you fight?”

“…Since we have a peace treaty, I’ll permit passage for now.”

“‘Permit’ is not how I would phrase it, but I’m not so rude as to let it go past without notice.”

The Spaniards, bewildered by his etiquette up to this point, wore baffled expressions, but Murad received their glares with indifference.

Lifting a foot onto the railing, Murad glanced back briefly.

“Oh, I almost forgot. With more ships expected to come and go, do try not to block the way unnecessarily.”

Without waiting for a response, Murad, moving with a grace that belied his hulking figure, returned to his ship.

Watching the Ottoman galley head back to its fleet, the Admiral clenched his fists and said, “Inform the homeland. Prince Murad of the Ottomans has made his move.”

*

It was serious enough that the Ottoman fleet passed through the Strait of Gibraltar, but the news that an Ottoman prince was on board sent Spain into a frenzy.

They speculated on whether the Ottomans were scheming something new or whether they were eying the newly discovered New World.

Amidst a cacophony of theories, the location the Ottoman fleet arrived at was quite unexpected.

“Why that barren land?”

Places like northern Morocco and Algeria, in the Atlas Mountains, enjoyed a Mediterranean climate, but the south was arid.

When it was once part of the territory of the ancient Roman Empire, it had been relatively fertile, thanks to its irrigation systems, but now it was mostly desolate land.

The locals would have no reason to covet such land, at least not countries like the Ottomans, and Spain’s intentions regarding it caused sharp disagreements.

“Isn’t there a Portuguese fortress on that land? Are they trying to completely cut off the way to India?”

“Nonsense! Do you think Portugal has the capacity to fight the Ottomans again? They can’t even look at that route now.”

“Currently, Portugal is focused on the route that was used by their former Governor of India. The Ottomans must know this too, so there’s no reason to push it.”

In any case, if they planned to block the route, they could conquer southern Africa.

If they blocked the Cape of Good Hope, no one would dare to sail.

While Spain was wasting time with conflicting analyses about the Ottomans’ strange behavior, their fleet made several round trips to Algeria, transporting goods.

This open display led some to voice concerns.

“It seems they’re goading us to break the peace treaty.”

At the suggestion of one noble, others groaned in agreement.

With the Ottomans having already occupied Hungary, and amidst the wars between France and the Habsburgs in Italy, it began to make sense.

“But would they really use a prince as bait for provocation?”

“That’s uncertain. Peacefully coexisting might have caused them to forget, but the nature of the infidel emperor is cruel. Even if he granted a 15-year period, there could still be those already scheming.”

“Hm, so the 15-year period might be to eliminate princes who pose a threat to succession.”

It was entirely plausible that arrangements would be made well in advance to prevent power struggles.

If such cunning was being employed amidst noble families, it was more so within a colossal empire.

In the end, the consensus was one.

“We must send an envoy to the Ottomans to discern their true intentions.”

With the command from Charles V, a Spanish envoy set out for the Ottomans.

*

Yusuf chuckled while stroking his beard.

“Just like Murad.”

Though it seemed reckless to others, underneath lay many safety nets.

The peace treaty had been formed at the behest of the Habsburgs, thus they couldn’t attack the Ottoman fleet rashly; but with a prince aboard?

‘They could never attack.’

Attacking a ship with a prince on board would be less favorable than simply killing the Ottoman envoy.

After Murad landed in Africa, Spain could lose their nerve and blockade the strait, or Portugal could attack without the constraints of the peace treaty, but at that point, Murad could just return to Algeria by land.

It would be difficult, but with someone like Murad, who could likely survive even dropped in the middle of a desert, his life wouldn’t be a worry.

If they found themselves isolated from their fleet, they could always circle back around Africa, as Portugal’s influence had nearly evaporated in Africa after their defeat in India.

‘If it were Mehmet, even with these secure conditions, he wouldn’t act that recklessly.’

While the odds of safety might be high, only someone like Murad could gamble their life in a chaotic situation.

That’s why there was no one better suited for the unpredictable environment of Africa than Murad.

“Padişah, the Spanish envoy has arrived.”

“Let him in.”

Yusuf asked nonchalantly as he observed the Spanish envoy bowing respectfully.

“Why did Carlos send an envoy to me?”

“The king is deeply concerned about the movement of the Ottoman fleet. If the peace treaty, which was painstakingly obtained, were to be broken, it would be a loss for both nations, wouldn’t it?”

At the envoy’s words, Yusuf smirked.

“A peace treaty, yes. There’s no need to spill unnecessary blood. However, that does not mean you can meddle in the empire’s affairs.”

“It’s not meddling. It’s merely the passage through the strait…”

“If you want to block the strait, you should have occupied Fas. How dare you assert rights while only gripping half the strait? Are you mocking me?”

Feeling a shiver run down his spine at Yusuf’s cold tone, the envoy felt his back dampening.

The Moroccan region is very close to Spain, significantly impacted by the Reconquista to expel Islam from the Iberian Peninsula.

It was the region that received the most Muslim and Jewish refugees fleeing due to the Reconquista, yet despite being continually invaded by Christian nations, it had somehow endured those assaults.

By pointing out that Spain had failed to conquer Moroccan territory, Yusuf got up and walked toward the envoy.

Meeting Yusuf’s ominous shining eyes at a distance made the envoy’s heart race, and Yusuf coolly stated.

“The empire didn’t forge a peace treaty; it was granted. If the cost of signing a peace treaty that bears no benefit is to repay it with blood and flesh, then let it be so.”

While they acquired the means to send a large fleet to the Ming Dynasty through the treaty and smoothly occupied Hungary, they had already reaped the benefits.

With newly constructed vessels, they had reached a level capable of defending the Mediterranean, and the incorporated territories were stabilizing.

There was no reason for the Ottomans to clench the treaty anymore, and sensing this, the envoy bowed his head.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding, Padişah. I merely hoped to prevent an uncomfortable situation from arising between our nations while crossing the strait.”

As the envoy spoke, Yusuf grasped his shoulder.

The strong grip made the envoy wince, and Yusuf let go.

“It’s human error; mistakes can happen. But there won’t be a second time.”

As the envoy sweated profusely watching the Silahdar troops with their hands hovering over their swords, Yusuf returned to his seat and casually smiled as if the atmosphere had never been tense.

“I neglected to offer coffee to a guest who traveled such a long way. Please, have a cup before you leave.”

The envoy, drinking the jet-black coffee served to him as if it were poison, returned home with a serious expression.

“Looks like the Ottomans want to provoke a break in the peace treaty.”

Upon hearing the envoy’s report, Charles V pondered and issued an order.

“Let the damage be significant. Arrange to conclude the war in Milan as soon as possible.”

The order to wrap up the protracted war with France was issued, and the fighting in Lombardia, northern Italy, intensified.

Shortly thereafter, urgent news arrived in the Ottoman Empire.

*

Upon receiving the urgent news, Yusuf drummed on the armrest.

“This is unexpected.”

Even after glancing at the message, the content remained unchanged.

– King François of France, the warrior.

The aftermath of Murad’s involvement had taken a strange turn.