I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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New Winds (2)

Murad’s victory in Africa shocked Europe.

If one had eyes and ears, it was impossible not to notice the Ottoman’s blatant interest in Africa.

Training that many slaves and mobilizing a fleet to cut off intervention was something one couldn’t overlook.

Still, European powers, including Charles V, had a somewhat optimistic view.

“Slaves as an army? It’s easy to talk, but can that actually work? They won’t be able to be properly controlled.”

They’re not being used as laborers, and even mercenaries, who are paid, could rebel; you think using slaves as soldiers will work?

Using a small group as cannon fodder might be one thing, but a military made of slaves couldn’t possibly operate effectively.

They thought it was arrogance on the part of the prince, accustomed to the elite Ottoman army, and expected a rebellion in the midst of war.

“Moreover, the land in Africa is not suitable for troop movements. It’s not a cohesive army, so it’s bound to collapse in the middle. At least they won’t be able to conquer it in the short term, so we can just watch the situation and intervene.”

It was a perfectly rational and common-sense judgment.

Most who heard the news agreed with this perspective, but unfortunately, Murad’s charisma and leadership were beyond common sense.

After hearing about the dispatch of troops, those who had been waiting casually returned with news that the Mali Empire had been conquered within half a year.

The black storm that conquered even Mali briefly halted its movement.

Yet, no one felt relieved about this situation.

No other nation in this era was as skilled as the Ottomans at stabilizing conquered territories. They were quickly entering stabilization with the massive influx of goods through land and sea.

Merchants that had to be co-opted for stabilization generally complied with the new order.

Losing slaves was a significant blow, but entering the shadow of the Ottomans, who absorbed goods from around the world, wasn’t entirely a bad deal.

Looking at the situation, there was nowhere to flee. It seemed they would eventually lay their hands on all of Africa, no matter how long it took.

While Europe was buzzing about Africa, it was none of the New World explorers’ concern.

To be precise, unlike Portugal, Spanish explorers didn’t yet have a reason to import African slaves on a large scale.

They were too preoccupied with the tasks directly in front of them.

“Damn Antonio.”

Hernán Cortés, who had destroyed the Aztec Empire, cursed Antonio de Mendoza, whom Charles V had appointed as viceroy of the New World.

He had conquered the Aztecs and given Spain a vast territory, as well as a massive amount of gold and silver, but had received nothing but neglect in return.

Summoned back to the homeland only to face attacks from political rivals, he barely returned to the New World, where his colony, Nueva España, was in complete disarray.

If only it had ended there, but he had to oppose the viceroy sent to oust him.

Cortés, scribbling on documents, nervously bit his lip.

“If things continue like this, I might be summoned back to the homeland again.”

The king’s greed for the New World was becoming increasingly blatant.

Sending a viceroy to Nueva España and not appointing him as governor was one thing, but comparing his situation to that of Francisco Pizarro, his distant relative who had conquered the Incas, made it clear.

The Spanish navy had come to suppress a rebellion in the Inca territory, and when news of reinforcements caused the rebels to flee, they simply stayed put.

“Is the king so incompetent that he intends to swallow all our achievements?”

Cortés cursed Charles, whose reputation had plummeted due to ongoing defeats, but, unlike others who suspected, he had no intentions of inciting a rebellion.

No matter how crushed Spain was by the Ottomans, there was no chance of winning.

Anyway, if things kept up like this, it was clear he would be summoned back to the homeland, harassed by various lawsuits and face ruin.

Given that his military power and authority of conquest could disappear at any moment, Cortés felt anxious every day.

-My Lord! My Lord! Urgent news!

Cortés, lost in thought, heard a knocking sound along with a frantic voice.

“Come in.”

Once permission was granted, a subordinate entered and briefly paid his respects.

“What’s going on?”

“We have engaged in combat with a strange ship!”

“A strange ship? Was it an Indian vessel?”

“No! It was a massive galleon. Judging by the soldiers’ reports who captured the ship, it seems to be a vessel from the East.”

Cortés snatched the documents his subordinate offered.

It contained reports of items like pottery and silk, apparently brought as trade goods, and noted that the clothing was similar to that of the Ming Dynasty, as described by the Portuguese.

“…Has the viceroy also been informed?”

“No, sir. You know how much our soldiers dislike the viceroy? He still doesn’t know.”

Cortés’ mind raced.

He had become an Ottoman prisoner in the middle of it all, but Magellan’s fleet had already proven that it could reach the East.

The problem was the routes back to the New World. This news essentially meant that those routes had been discovered.

“Even if there’s a language barrier, use any means necessary to interrogate and find out the route! We must learn it! We need to move before the viceroy does.”

“Understood!”

After his subordinate left, Cortés was alone, and his eyes sparkled.

“The Lord has given me an opportunity!”

*

“Allah has aided us.”

Yusuf leisurely sipped coffee while flipping through a book.

It was written by Hirem and Orhan, and it was outstanding enough to resonate with people’s emotions.

Yusuf said to the two authors, who looked tense while waiting for feedback.

“A well-written tragedy transcends time. This book will endure for centuries. It’s excellent.”

“Thank you!”

While laughter generally stays within the era, sorrow transcends time and resonates with the human heart.

It’s likely why people know Shakespeare’s tragedies but not his comedies.

Yusuf’s highest praise brightened Hirem and Orhan’s smiles.

“Show it to Suleiman. He’ll be astonished. He might even doubt it was written by the same person as the previous ones.”

Hirem, hearing this mischievous comment, lowered his head shyly.

“You’ve worked hard. I’ll call for you later.”

“Understood.”

Having listened to what Shamsi said when he arrived, Hirem took Orhan away.

It seemed to be a matter that neither he nor Prince Orhan could intervene in.

After sending them off, Yusuf closed the book.

“The Ming ship has reached the New World?”

“It seems so. Among the goods that reached Spain, there were pottery and silk.”

Understanding the items presented to the king was a difficult task, but such items arriving so suddenly would undoubtedly spread rumors.

They were certainly unexpected items.

“Let’s sort things out. If pottery came from the New World, then the arrival of a Ming ship is indeed confirmed. The natives wouldn’t have made them.”

“That’s right.”

“Crossing the sea without any experience shows they were lucky.”

No one knew what hardships they had faced along the way, but somehow they reached the New World.

Yet, it seemed like they had exhausted all their luck simply by arriving.

The information provided was scarce, but sufficient to speculate about the situation.

“If the Ming ship and Spain had normal contact, would only goods have crossed?”

“No, they would have visited Spain in a diplomatic capacity.”

“Yes, under normal circumstances, that would be the case.”

The Ming Dynasty also knew that Spain existed in the New World, so this fleet was likely a diplomatic mission as well.

To properly source items from the New World, it would be wise to establish friendly relations.

“But there are no people, just goods that arrived. This suggests there’s a problem with the people. Don’t you think?”

“There could have been combat involved, or perhaps illness struck them while at sea, or upon reaching the New World.”

“It might take some time to learn that, but that part is irrelevant. The current information is enough for sowing discord.”

Even if they sank during their voyage and never reached the New World, there would be an opportunity to pin the blame on Spain, which was very convenient.

“I should reach out to the Ming Emperor then. I’ll inform him that the fleet that reached the New World was attacked by Spain and perished.”

If Charles heard this, he would inevitably mutter that it was an act worthy of Satan.

“Charles will be furious.”

“Why? If we think about it, I was the one who crafted Hasan. All the infamous deeds he has done were commanded by me.”

“That’s true.”

The idea that granted Hasan the reputation of being the ‘devil’s tongue’ came from Yusuf’s head, and Shamsi realized this once more.

Feeling Shamsi’s impure gaze, Yusuf waved his hand dismissively.

“Let’s stop the jokes here. What we need to do now is get the news to the Ming Emperor.”

How will the Ming Emperor react upon hearing this news?

To send a ship with high expectations only for it to be attacked would inflict a significant blow to his pride.

The relationship between Spain and the Ming Dynasty would not easily mend after this.

“Murad is doing well in Africa, and Kasim has started bridge construction with support.”

Considering that not only Ferdinand but also Charles’s aid had been extracted, Kasim was doing well, even if he was overshadowed by Murad.

“Mustafa is appropriately bringing the natives into the fold, and Mehmet will probably move his army soon. Time is passing faster and faster.”

“As one gets older, time tends to fly by.”

“I’m still young enough. With Murad by my side, I must look even younger.”

“That would surely sadden the prince.”

Yusuf chuckled softly at Shamsi’s words, which weren’t outright denial, and stopped the jokes.

“There’s six years left. Soon I’ll be able to count on one hand.”

With the results of the assignments given to the princes coming in, the remaining time decreased correspondingly.

“There aren’t many days left to take a break.”

“Right, once I abdicate, I’ll need to take a break for a while.”

The abdication would come after reigning for 34 years.

It wasn’t a short period, and considering how he had run straight ahead during that time, the desire to rest was indeed strong.

‘But I guess I can’t rest too long.’

He wasn’t the type to do that. At the very least, he would do something small for the empire.

Though others might consider it small.

He already planned for a fulfilling retirement, so he had to ensure it all ended well.

“Keep a close watch on the Spanish fleet’s movements. Something is bound to happen. And let Barbarossa know that the time for him is coming.”

Yusuf’s eyes sparkled.

Everything was going according to plan.

*

Cortés took a deep breath.

His life had always been a series of dangerous bets, and this time was no different.

Cortés unfolded a map drawn according to the routes obtained from interrogation of the prisoners.

“We will carve out a new history.”

The route connecting the New World led to Manila.

From what he heard through Portugal, it was a major trading hub, connected not only to the Ming Dynasty but also to India, with goods flowing in.

‘If we can seize this place, we can trade in the East as well.’

In the current situation where the Ottomans effectively controlled Eastern trade through the canal, it was the only way to break free.

The only lingering concern was the issues with the Ming ship that had come across the New World.

If only it hadn’t been a misunderstanding that led to combat, he could have felt more at ease; however, what was done couldn’t be undone.

‘It’s impossible that the Ming Dynasty doesn’t know about what happened in the New World.’

Even if they did, they could solve it with compensation. Through the prisoners, he learned that the emperor was quite interested in New World artifacts.

“My lord, the preparations are complete.”

Cortés looked up and scanned the surroundings.

More than twenty ships floated on the sea.

They were the fleet he had persuaded Charles to support, a clear indication of their keen interest in this venture.

“Let’s go! For our future!”

As Cortés declared, the flagbearers waved the flags to signal the start.

A great challenge for the future had begun.

*

“Your Majesty! This is terrible!”

“What is it? Why the fuss?”

Charles clenched his fist tightly.

Not a single piece of good news had come from the commotion, and it seemed his body had sensed the ominousness, as cold sweat trickled down his neck.

“Is it about Prince Murad starting to move south again? Or is it something else?”

Trying to ease the shock, Charles mentally rummaged through all the possible scenarios, only to realize he was wasting his effort.

He wasn’t just unprepared; the news was one that would have shocked him no matter how much he braced himself.

“O-oh, the Ottomans have sent their Eastern fleet again.”

Charles murmured in a dazed voice.

“…Why now, of all times?”