I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

Fireball (3)

With the assassination attempt on Yusuf, over a hundred people were executed, and the Sharif of Mecca, identified as the epicenter of the incident, lost a significant portion of his autonomy.

Given the seriousness of the situation, everyone knew it couldn’t end there.

However, not many expected the changes to lead to a relaxation of the restrictions imposed on Muslims, including the Islamic law of Sharia.

As Yusuf’s position as Caliph and the title of Shaykh al-Islam responsible for managing Muslims within the Ottoman Empire became known, confusion certainly ensued.

“Does this mean we can drink alcohol now?”

“Well, the upcoming imperial law won’t include a ban on drinking, so it’s possible.”

Like an elephant that had lived its life tied by a thin rope suddenly thinking it could escape after breaking the string, people found it hard to embrace the sudden freedom.

This push came from Islamic figures who became Yusuf’s right-hand men.

“Allah is merciful, so if you eat or drink forbidden haram foods, you can simply repent and be forgiven.”

This created an escape route for atonement, easily easing their reluctance.

Of course, the idea that repentance would bring absolution has a high chance of becoming a liability; it was emphasized that sins against imperial law, even if religious atonement is sought, cannot escape punishment.

In the past, Islamic dignitaries would have protested vehemently in such situations, but now, with the assassination attempt, few would dare to oppose risking their lives.

Those courageous enough had either gone to meet Allah entangled in assassination attempts or been dragged off to prison for insulting the Padishah.

Setting the stage was sufficient at this point, and word reached Yusuf that more Muslims were beginning to dabble in drinking.

“Drinking, huh? Those who are drinking now must have been drinking all along.”

Historically, numerous reasons led to the prohibition of alcohol, but each time, people always found a way around it.

It could be through bootlegging, smuggling, or whatever means necessary to find a solution.

This also applied to Islam, where alcohol used for medicinal purposes is allowed, leading some to use that as an excuse to drink.

In the capital alone, quite a few Christians secretly crossed over to drink, posing as followers of other religions.

In the past, it meant that even Muslims could drink if they set their minds to it.

“I might need to issue a strong warning against excessive drinking and increase the patrols.”

“Let’s also inspect the taverns. There might be places selling drunk people as slaves.”

In modern times, if someone sprawled on the street in drunken stupor, safety couldn’t be guaranteed, and it was no different now.

It wasn’t uncommon to wake up after blacking out from drinking only to find oneself sold into slavery.

Responding to Yusuf’s orders, Şemsi asked, slightly worried.

“There will likely be quite a bit of turmoil ahead. Drinking isn’t the only issue.”

“Change always comes with pain. We must endure.”

The term haram, meaning forbidden food, wasn’t designated lightly.

Just considering that seafood that changes color or smells bad is categorized as haram shows that things harmful to the body are often labeled as such.

These issues could only be solved through education.

‘Honestly, drinking isn’t great, and there’s no need to loosen the restrictions, but…’

It’s the most suitable means to drive the initial reforms, so it’s unavoidable. All that can be done is manage the situation as best as possible.

Once the dam is breached, as long as the direction is managed correctly, Islam won’t become as rigidly fundamentalist as it once was, and for now, all that’s needed is to observe.

This was a reform for the future, but there was something more urgent at hand.

“Hasan, how do the rumors respond?”

“The negative atmosphere towards Portugal, which had slightly settled due to the assassination attempt, is spreading faster and more widely.”

“Good.”

Yusuf coldly smiled.

A while later, an envoy from Spain arrived in Constantinople.

*

Arriving at the capital and awaiting an audience for four days, the Spanish envoy wore a dark expression.

At first, he didn’t worry much when leaving Spain.

The assassination attempt on the infidel emperor had quelled the call to punish Portugal within the Ottoman Empire.

When departing in this atmosphere, there was even a suggestion that sending an envoy wasn’t necessary, but the situation changed drastically during the boat ride.

– How could the subjects of the empire dare to harm the Padishah unless it was due to the cunning of the wicked Portuguese?!

– It’s said valuable goods from Portugal were found in the house of the ringleaders of the assassination attempt! Isn’t it obvious where the funds for the assassination came from?!

– Haven’t we forgotten the great defeat in the last naval battle? There’s no way we can sit back and let those trying to block the empire’s prosperous sea go unchallenged!

The envoy anxiously watched the loud shouts in the square, met with cheers from the audience.

Just looking at the enraged atmosphere, one could tell that if weapons were handed over, they would rush into battle, and things were worse than expected.

“Make haste.”

The Janissaries, brandishing their swords, hurried along without a hint of consideration, unlike during his previous visit.

The guillotine in the main courtyard of the palace still bore dark red stains, creating a grim atmosphere.

Perhaps due to having heard of a recent execution, given the current sentiment, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t find himself standing atop the guillotine.

Though the notoriety had faded over time, he knew all too well how much blood of envoys had been spilled under the infidel emperor.

Hiding his fear as best he could, he entered the audience room, quickly paying respects to Yusuf, who was casually cleaning his rifle while leaning back in his chair.

Click!

“It’s been a while.”

Setting the cleaned rifle down beside him, Yusuf asked the envoy, “What brings you here this time? If it’s regarding Portugal, you may as well turn back. I have nothing to discuss with you.”

“…Are you waiting for the envoy from Portugal?”

“No.”

At the envoy’s question, Yusuf twisted his lips.

“I will go directly.”

The envoy was taken aback by Yusuf’s declaration.

There was no way the Padishah of the empire would visit Portugal as an envoy, meaning he was going to launch a direct expedition.

This was practically a declaration of war, and the envoy spoke in a hurry.

“Your Majesty, there seems to be a misunderstanding between the two nations.”

“A misunderstanding? What sort of misunderstanding are you speaking of?”

“The rumor that Portugal colluded with the assassins of the Padishah while staying here is false. There’s no way that could be true.”

No matter how much the Portuguese were running wild without sharing a border with the Ottoman Empire, they wouldn’t be that bold.

Who would believe that a nation would send almost a hundred pirate ships as escorts when sending a princess as an envoy to France?

Hearing the envoy’s defense, Yusuf swept his rifle and asked, “Are you willing to take responsibility for that statement? If not, both you and your family will have to remain wary of the empire’s grasp for the rest of your lives.”

“Your Majesty?!”

“Answer me. Are you willing to take responsibility?”

Under Yusuf’s pressure, the envoy hesitated to say yes.

No matter how intertwined Spain and Portugal were, how could one be so sure?

If it were the plot of a deranged noble sneaking in schemes, his entire family would suffer the consequences of Ottoman wrath for life.

“Is there any evidence?”

“There are valuable goods from Portugal among the confiscated items.”

“But that could easily be explained.”

“True, and there was a witness. Though now, they’ve gone to Allah. We couldn’t keep the assassins alive till now.”

While he wasn’t incorrect, if the witness was dead, the testimony lost its significance.

The envoy knew that well, and it was evident he was trying to hide how unreasonable he sounded, biting his lip in frustration.

Yusuf raised a finger and said, “Speak only what you can handle in this place.”

Hoping there might be actual evidence beyond what had been said, the envoy stammered for a moment, and Yusuf, intrigued, spoke.

“Let’s set aside the matter of the assassination. What about the insulting remarks about me spreading in Portugal? Are those misunderstandings too?”

“They’re just words from foolish, ignorant people.”

“If only a handful were saying that, it could be overlooked.”

Since when has the Ottoman Empire had a good image?

Now that he’s being insulted, the envoy felt wronged, but he couldn’t just say “calm down” in front of the involved parties.

“The royal family and nobles of Portugal are working hard to ensure such ridiculous rumors do not spread, please give it a little more time.”

“Time, huh? I can wait.”

Upon Yusuf’s words, the envoy looked more tense than relieved.

There was no way someone who had seemed eager to go to war against Portugal would suddenly change his mind.

And the envoy’s expectations proved correct.

“I can wait, but I don’t know if the subjects of the empire can.”

“If Your Majesty steps in!”

“The subjects aren’t just those making noise in the square; it includes the officials of the empire as well.”

He couldn’t govern the country alone, and if the opinions of his ministers aligned, it wouldn’t be easy to suppress things.

As Yusuf raised the corners of his mouth while speaking, the envoy clenched his fists.

“…Are we truly headed to war?”

“Then I would take that as Carlos siding with Portugal.”

It was something the envoy couldn’t confirm, but Spain couldn’t just abandon Portugal.

Even if they weren’t related by blood, the sight of the Ottomans establishing themselves on the Iberian Peninsula would be nothing short of dreadful.

Ultimately, the envoy couldn’t say yes or no.

“I will return to my country and report the situation.”

With the envoy leaving with his respects and the doors of the audience room closing, Yusuf rose and walked to the wall, which was covered with a massive map.

“Şemsi Pasha.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Şemsi, standing like a shadow, bowed his head, and Yusuf, hands clasped behind him, gazed at the map.

“Do you think we can absorb Portugal?”

“Conquering is possible, but maintaining it will be difficult.”

There was no road connecting all the way to distant Portugal, and they had to pass through the Strait of Gibraltar to reach Portuguese territory.

Even if they succeeded in capturing it with great effort, transporting supplies and troops would be challenging, making it tough to hold onto for long.

“You’re right. Even if we conquer it this time, it won’t last for decades.”

They would struggle fiercely to regain their land, and the more intense the resistance, the greater the resources wasted.

It wasn’t ideal land for the Ottomans to swallow up, and Yusuf never intended to occupy Portugal from the beginning.

He just needed a pretext for invading Portugal.

“In order for the empire to smoothly invade Portugal, we need to pave the way, don’t you think?”

“Indeed.”

Already aware of Yusuf’s plans, Şemsi smiled faintly, and Yusuf pointed at the map with his finger.

“Malta.”

An island that could have become an impregnable fortress after the Knights Hospitaller were ousted from Rhodes, but it had become a history of their defeat and disappearance.

A central island in the Mediterranean, much of its coastline was cliff-faced, making it a significant stronghold, and since it was Spanish territory, capturing it wouldn’t be difficult without the Knights Hospitaller.

“Tunis.”

A region in North Africa closer to the Italian Peninsula than Algiers, it belonged to Spain and was land that needed to be seized to dominate the Mediterranean.

If they could absorb Tunis, they could also secure Algiers, which was much closer to Spain.

Yusuf’s finger moved westward across North Africa and landed on a spot beyond Algiers.

“And this place too. It’s land the empire should obtain during this opportunity.”

Yusuf spoke decisively, sparking a fire somewhere.

*

Two dynasties were waging war over Morocco.

The Wattasid dynasty and the Saadi dynasty, with an Ottoman envoy arriving.

“We must open a path to invade Portugal.”

It was a shocking proclamation out of a clear sky.