LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 182
Fireball (1)
When a typical Ottoman evaluated Yusuf, it didn’t really matter whether he was a true prophet or not.
His evaluation was capped like a cup that couldn’t hold any more water.
Considering the achievements Yusuf had accumulated over a little more than 20 years since he first became Padishah in 1509 until 1531, it was only natural.
He expanded the empire’s territory massively by conquering Ottoman headaches and rivals like the Safavid, Mamluk, and Hungary.
He abolished the Devshirme, which enslaved male Christian subjects, and the discriminatory tax known as Jizya, swiftly addressing various systemic issues.
Moreover, the wealth benefits from new agricultural practices and the opening of canals began to reach even the lowest subjects.
Through the intelligence agency led by Hasan, such facts were secretly and swiftly promoted, ensuring that public support surged sky-high.
Thus, news from Portugal could only incite rage among the majority of Ottomans.
“Is it reasonable to insult the Padishah sent by Allah for the empire as a devil?!”
In a coffeehouse, a man shouted with an angry face, prompting a chorus of agreement.
“How merciful is the Padishah? He would personally send troops for the Pope who slanders the empire and perpetrates numerous schemes!”
“What kind of devil acts like that? I couldn’t help but feel enraged upon hearing such rumors!”
“Isn’t it really the Portuguese devils? Considering all the things they’ve done so far, it’s only natural for them to face divine wrath!”
Although coffee production was at its peak, causing prices to drop significantly, it wasn’t a drink that common subjects could enjoy easily.
Those gathered in the coffeehouse had accumulated some wealth and knew well of Portugal’s misdeeds.
If this had happened in far-off England, there wouldn’t have been such a strong backlash, but Portugal had racked up immense sins in the Indian Ocean.
“How foolish do they think the empire is, allowing such nonsense to spread publicly?! We must deliver immediate judgment upon them!”
The grievances against Portugal and the agreeing remarks in the coffeehouse were relatively the intellectual reactions of the wealthy.
In places like the plaza, where common subjects gathered, much rawer reactions emerged.
“Let’s arm ourselves, everyone! It’s time to deliver judgment upon the Portuguese who insulted the Padishah!”
“Now is the time to repay the favors we’ve received from the Padishah! Let’s fight!”
Responding to the man stirring up the plaza, the people stomped their feet and erupted in a rallying cheer.
With merely weapons in hand, they seemed ready to head to the battlefield immediately, and although there were regional differences, this atmosphere quickly spread throughout the Ottoman Empire.
Many were enlisting as Azabs, promising to serve as soldiers during the war, and there was no way Yusuf could not be aware of this situation.
Inside the massive Divan Meeting Hall.
Though it was a gathering of officials led by the Grand Vizier discussing the state affairs, Yusuf, who usually only received meeting results, sat at the highest seat.
“Report.”
At Yusuf’s short command, the Grand Vizier Şemsi stood up.
“I will report, Your Padishah. Currently, the subjects’ response is narrowed down to revenge against Portugal. Already, there are over a hundred thousand applicants to become Azabs from across the empire.”
Though considering economic and physical requirements, that number would likely be halved, the atmosphere was clearly charged even without an official notice for Azab recruitment.
The empire was taut like a bowstring, ready to snap.
“Hasan, what precisely is the situation regarding the subjects’ response?”
“If this keeps up, there could be individuals arming themselves and charging in directly. Particularly, many among them have combat experience or military service.”
Those who had served in the military would mostly know at least how to handle a matchlock gun, making this no light matter.
They might be capable of rallying together for warfare or plunder.
“Is this a crusade or what?”
Of course, the roles would be reversed.
“Your Padishah, how long do you plan to observe the situation?”
“Anyway, it won’t be resolved just by calming the subjects while the causes remain unaddressed.”
Calming the unrest arising in the Ottoman would not be a difficult task for Yusuf.
If he proclaimed to step in and calm things down, the already charged atmosphere would relatively settle.
“Still, if the situation in Portugal doesn’t change, it will just repeat.”
If the Portuguese continued their slander, it was clear the Ottomans would erupt again, presenting even greater challenges for control than before.
“How about sending an envoy to Portugal to protest?”
“Envoy? Şemsi Pasha, you must also be aware—Portugal’s royal family turns a blind eye to the situation.”
Cleaning up the aftermath from this earthquake would already be burdensome, but it would be true that the royal family was complicit as well.
Shifting internal discontent onto outsiders or the weak has long been a common practice, and blaming it on the Jews was something even historically seen.
Besides, due to the prophecy, I got dragged into it.
“But if the protest envoy arrives, won’t they at least pretend to calm things down? If it’s too difficult to send one directly because of the situation in Portugal, sending one to Charles V could also be an option.”
“For now, I’ll continue to observe.”
Due to the growing sentiment to punish Portugal, the atmosphere within the empire had grown tense, but it wasn’t to a problematic extent yet.
Moreover, in such a sudden situation, maximizing the empire’s profits would be a skill in itself.
Having made that judgment, Yusuf stood up, followed by Şemsi and Hasan.
They were among the few allowed to have a private audience with the Padishah Yusuf, which meant discussing matters not suitable in a public setting like the Divan.
Once inside the audience room, Yusuf commanded.
“Everyone, step back.”
At Yusuf’s command, all the Silahtar assigned to guard him retreated, leaving only Şemsi and Hasan in the audience room.
When the sound of water gently flowed from the faucet, heard by a manager suffering from hearing impairment, Yusuf finally spoke.
“Grand Vizier, what do you foresee will happen if the current atmosphere continues?”
“Charles V of the Habsburgs will likely send an envoy to mediate, won’t he? He won’t sit back and watch Portugal being attacked.”
Given that Spain and Portugal were neighbors, and Charles V was closely related to the King of Portugal, João III.
They were not only cousins, but João married Charles’s sister, and Charles married a Portuguese princess.
With France allying with the Ottomans and their troops pillaging Rome while taking all the blame, Charles couldn’t afford to abandon Portugal.
“To assist Portugal in waging war against the empire is out of the question, so he will send an envoy.”
Unless they had seized legitimate spoils from Rome, it wouldn’t matter. Because of the intervening Ottomans, they were left with nothing but ill fame.
They gained nothing from pillaging Rome while giving the infidel Ottomans a chance to meddle, all the while failing to make a proper protest after losing their army.
“What remains now is the choice of the Padishah.”
Ignoring mediation and attacking Portugal would make Charles do everything in his power to block the Ottomans.
After driving Islam out of the Iberian Peninsula for seven centuries during the Reconquista, he absolutely couldn’t stand to see Islam re-entering in less than half a century.
“If the Padishah intends to conquer the whole West, then attacking Portugal would be permissible.”
“I have no such intention.”
I certainly don’t know, but unifying all of Europe would necessitate waging a great war while turning allies like France against him, which would only devastate the empire.
It would be fine if successful, but should there be failure or the war drag on, the hard-won empire could fall to pieces due to financial ruin.
It’s better to create a sturdy empire lasting for hundreds of years than a massive one that won’t last a century.
Such a course also conflicted with my goal of prioritizing the subjects’ lives.
“But there are definitely gains to be made that can be taken without a great war. I have something in mind, so let’s put that aside for now. Hasan.”
“Yes, Your Padishah.”
“What about the Islamic factions?”
Honestly, the issue with Portugal was a secondary concern. The core issue lay with the Islamic fundamentalists within the Ottoman realm.
“The atmosphere doesn’t look good. Those who have pledged allegiance to the will of the empire, like the Shaykh al-Islam, won’t pose a problem.”
“I’m sure there are many who believe the rumors about me being a prophet challenge Muhammad.”
The standing of the Shaykh al-Islam, as the highest authority in Islam within the Ottoman realm, was no different from that of the Archbishop of Constantinople.
They were merely limbs to be used, posing no need for concern.
‘Fundamentalists, huh.’
No one in this world is without value, and even someone who dares to dissect the principles of religion has value in his own right.
Since religion is prone to distortion, a certain level of stubbornness from those individuals is necessary.
The problem, however, lies in crossing the lines that should be protected in the name of religion.
“Hasan, keep a close eye on the situation.”
Yusuf smiled a deadly smile.
*
As the sentiment for war with Portugal escalated, the long-silent Ottoman dynasty finally took action.
When Yusuf announced that he would meet the subjects directly in the capital’s plaza, it shook the city.
Though he wasn’t holed up in the Topkapi Palace, it was nearly impossible for common subjects to meet Yusuf face to face.
With news of being able to see Yusuf openly in such a situation, the plaza overflowed with people.
“…Calling himself a prophet while insulting Muhammad.”
Abdul clenched his teeth as he looked at the large crowd gathering in the plaza.
Seeing people fervently following someone who claimed to be a prophet just because their lives had become a little more comfortable made his anger boil.
“But this ends today.”
For this day, a faction including himself had gathered, and they would return the distorted and twisted Islam to its original form.
Convinced of this, Abdul, along with the crowd, paid their respects as Yusuf appeared with the band playing music.
Packed with people, it was hard to kneel, and only when Yusuf told them it was alright to lift their heads could they finally see the face they could only meet in portraits.
Had it not been for the oppressive atmosphere weighing down on them, he appeared youthful, not much different from the portraits of him as a young man.
-My proud and beloved subjects, I am glad to meet you all. The reason for this direct encounter with you is…
Most of the assembled subjects couldn’t hear Yusuf’s voice, but nobody complained about it.
While the people observed Yusuf with a pious heart, Abdul, after a minute passed, quietly pulled out a gun that had been wrapped in cloth.
Thanks to four comrades around him, bringing the gun this far wasn’t difficult, and as two minutes passed since his speech began, it was time to act—he lifted the gun.
Bang!
-It’s a gun! Protect the Padishah!
A commotion erupted, and as Abdul was ready to pull the trigger toward Yusuf, he felt an ominous gaze fix upon him.
‘…Did he see?’
Just then, a tremendous sound exploded, and the acrid smoke of gunpowder spread.
“Ahhhh!”
It seemed the gun had jammed and exploded upon firing, and as Abdul’s hand flew off, he rolled on the ground.
In confusion, not understanding what was happening, all he could do was scream, hearing a cold voice.
“He is the sinner attempting to assassinate the Padishah. Capture him.”
As he was bound by those hiding among the common subjects, Abdul feared the eyes of the one pointing a gun at his head.
The one pointing the gun at his head was one of his comrades, and the comrade he believed was on his side twisted his mouth into a sneer.
“To save the empire, one must even become a devil.”