I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

Chapter 37




#37화. 격돌(3)

From Bayburt to Artvin, along the long river that connects to the sea, a scream echoed through a small village in the middle of the Chorokai River.

The sudden arrival of five thousand Qizilbash warriors was akin to demons from hell for those who led a humble life cultivating grapes and olives.

Men, old and young alike, were dying like toys, while women cursed their reality and bit their tongues, even corpses becoming mere playthings.

The village turned to ruins overnight as the Qizilbash, who enjoyed their spree, mounted their horses, with Nebazar spitting irritably.

“Damn those Samtskhe scum! I’ll kill them later!”

Having advanced near Artvin, the Qizilbash had to turn their heads to face the Samtskhe army blocking their way.

While they could probably break through the wooden barricades and thousands of soldiers, the losses would be catastrophic, leaving them no choice.

Three whole days wasted, and they could only grind their teeth.

‘At least finding a village has suppressed some of the discontent.’

Even if they were united under Shah Ismail, the inner struggles among the various tribes meant that control was not firmly established.

Thus, if dissatisfaction piled up, there could be disobedience to orders, and one never knew how those eager to snatch the Shah’s favor would behave.

This was the reason the peaceful village turned into a wasteland without a single survivor.

“Parktan! We just need to follow this river, right?”

“Correct. If we follow this river and take the northern stream, we can reach the border of Rajistan and Trabzon.”

“If your guidance leads to the success of this operation, I will report your contributions to the Shah.”

“Thank you!”

Nebazar grasped the reins tightly and shouted.

“For Shah Ismail! For Allah!”

“For the Shah!”

With a village of barely a hundred people, their plunder cravings were woefully unfulfilled, and the Qizilbash chanting Ismail began their march.

After marching without hindrance for three or four hours, Nebazar raised his hand to halt as cavalry scouts came galloping back.

“What’s happening?”

“We found a wall being constructed by the enemy up ahead!”

“Enemy’s wall?”

“It seems they retreated during construction. We’ve searched the area thoroughly, but found no traces of the enemy.”

Hearing that it was safe for now, Nebazar led his troops to the site discovered by the scouts.

The wall, about two stories high, would have completely blocked one side of the river if it were finished, and touching the half-completed structure, Nebazar tilted his head.

“I’ve never seen materials like this before.”

Having wandered all his life, he was not ignorant, but he had never encountered such construction materials.

It wasn’t important what the materials were; Nebazar looked around, deep in thought.

‘One thing is clear: the enemy knows our movements, too.’

Since his role was to create disturbances or lure the Erzurum forces, it wasn’t strange for the enemy to know their route.

However, it didn’t make sense that they easily abandoned a partially built wall with no minimum obstruction.

“Master Nebazar, what will you do?”

He couldn’t keep thousands of soldiers waiting forever and had to decide.

“Keep moving forward.”

After all, if this path wouldn’t work, there was no other route, and they hadn’t even seen the enemy yet to turn tail and run.

If they simply ended up being laughed at, it would be fortunate.

Those who pounce on opportunities like wild beasts could use this as an excuse to split their army.

To maintain proper command, they had to push forward.

‘No matter what tricks they try, we can smash them to pieces.’

Having achieved consecutive victories, it was impossible for them to lose to weak Ottoman scum.

“Still, we can’t just ignore something so bothersome. Destroy that wall.”

“Yes!”

With thousands of troops on it, turning the wall into rubble did not take long, and seeing that took away some of his anxiety.

Nebazar shouted vigorously.

“Increase marching speed!”

After the Qizilbash moved faster, Yusuf arrived leading his troops a couple of hours later, whistling.

“They completely smashed it. Was he more cautious than I thought?”

The personality of the opposing commander wasn’t important. Having slipped into the trap, their future was already determined.

Watching the soldiers move rapidly, as if there was no time to waste, Yusuf asked Arda.

“It’ll take time to solidify; we can finish before dark, right?”

“Of course.”

There was no need for anything pretty, strong, or high. They could break it down and rebuild right after this battle, it wouldn’t matter.

Even if it was poorly constructed, it would be despair for them.

Shouldering his matchlock, Yusuf grinned mischievously.

*

“Parktaan! Why didn’t you tell me about that thing!”

“I-I didn’t know it was there until recently!”

“Did that wall just sprout out of the ground?”

With bloodshot eyes, Nebazar glared at the walls standing on either side of the river.

The only gap was blocked by chains and palisades, and soldiers atop the wall aimed their arrows.

On the opposite bank were hundreds of cavalry waiting to cross, bowstrings taut.

‘But I can’t go into the mountains either.’

They couldn’t ride horses up the mountain, and wandering in enemy territory would result in known consequences.

Realizing there was no way to advance, Nebazar drew his sword and beheaded Parktaan.

“Yes, Nebgurk…”

Turning his gaze from the collapsing Parktaan, Nebazar tightened his grip on the reins and shouted.

“Everyone, retreat! We retreat!”

When they discovered the wall, it was evening, and the Qizilbash had to push their horses through the night without resting.

They had to escape this confirmed trap as soon as possible, but there was no time to rest.

“You cowardly wretch!”

The group of about fifteen hundred cavalry that had chased them from the wall kept their distance, and whenever they turned to attack, the enemy would mirror their movements without hesitation.

Along with the cavalry that was pursuing them like cowards, the sounds of nearby footsteps and arrows suddenly falling were enough to get on their nerves.

The Qizilbash were furious.

‘How dare they treat us like prey.’

There was no way they wouldn’t know it was an open hunt, and they returned along the path vowing revenge.

Furious and retreating, the Qizilbash reached the spot where the wall had been the next morning, left speechless.

“…Is this some wicked trick of the jinn?”

In Islam, the wicked jinn were considered to be Satan, believed to use bizarre sorcery.

The scene before them was so incomprehensible that it reminded them of that jinn, as the demolished wall stood tall.

It looked as though large stones had been haphazardly thrown together, causing fear with its strange shape.

Unlike the other Qizilbash who were dumbfounded, Nebazar glanced around, biting his lips hard enough to draw blood.

‘I don’t know how they did it, but we can’t pass without losing anything.’

The sides of the wall that could be considered gaps were tightly barricaded with wooden stakes, and on the opposite bank, thousands of cavalry waited to cross.

In the front were the walls and barriers, in the back were fifteen hundred cavalry, to the left was a mountain, and to the right were more thousands of cavalry waiting to cross.

“Damn it!”

Cursing in a completely surrounded situation, Nebazar reluctantly acknowledged it.

The operation had already failed, and his remaining task was to minimize troop losses and escape this trap.

Holding out any longer would only result in starving to death, so Nebazar made a quick decision.

“Hodaram! Take five hundred soldiers and attack the cavalry from the rear.”

It was practically an order to become bait and die, but Hodaram gladly accepted the mission.

The five hundred cavalry under Hodaram’s command turned their horses around, and Nebazar shouted loudly.

“Do you think they can block us with just this palisade?”

“No way!”

“Let’s go, brothers! Salvation is with us!”

The Qizilbash responded with a thunderous voice, charging without fear.

As they charged toward them, Yusuf issued the order.

“Fire!”

A rain of arrows poured down upon the advancing Qizilbash.

—Heeiiing!

“Ghk!”

Even as a comrade who was hit by an arrow fell from his horse and became a chunk of meat, the Qizilbash didn’t slow down and split into two, slamming into the palisades with their bodies.

Stakes filled with corpses performed their role poorly, and those charging in followed on, trampling over the barricades.

Crushing the four-layered barricade into a mound of corpses, the Qizilbash caused hundreds of sacrifices but broke through the dreadful barrier.

However, what awaited them was not the end.

“Raise your spears!”

At the command of their leader, Yusuf’s guards, equipped with light armor and long spears, raised their weapons simultaneously.

The wall made of hundreds of spears bared its vicious teeth, and the commander shouted.

“Charge!”

“Flee, flee!”

The Qizilbash, caught unprepared, tried to resist hurriedly, but before they could even get a shot off, the guards stormed in.

Pooof!

With a grotesque sound that tore flesh, spears nearly five meters long pierced through several men simultaneously, and the Qizilbash speared like kebabs rolled on the ground.

As the guards withdrew their spears, a second wave rushed in to sweep away the Qizilbash again.

“Uaaaa!”

They were dying in vain. Those who had to assist the Shah in achieving greatness!

Nebazar, drenched in the blood of the soldiers trampled over, surveyed the surroundings with a devilish expression.

Those who had turned the reins uphill to dodge the cavalry charge ended up necks broken from rolling down the steep slopes, while those trying to escape to the opposite bank fell prey to arrows shot by the lurking cavalry.

The river was already stained with the blood of fallen soldiers, and screams and cries to the gods echoed from all around.

Amid the nightmarish scene, Nebazar almost lost his mind as he saw a boy looking down at them from the wall.

“It’s you!”

Nebazar cocked his bowstring.

*

Firing a matchlock is really hard.

By the time he finished preparing to fire a shot, the battle was almost over.

‘Am I going to get PTSD?’

The smell of blood from thousands and the horrific carnage was something he had caused himself, yet it was nauseating.

As he slightly frowned, Yusuf noticed that a commander among the enemy was aiming an arrow at him.

As the arrow flew towards him in slow motion, his vision turned black.

Pooof!

“Are you alright?”

With a heavy voice from Arda, his vision cleared, revealing Arda with an arrow stuck in his shoulder.

Before Yusuf could reply, he pulled the trigger at the enemy commander who was pulling out another arrow.

The ignited fuse touched the gunpowder, and moments later, a great recoil and thick smoke obscured his sight.

“Looks like I missed.”

It wasn’t a matter of shooting skill; the gun was to blame. It was true.

Shifting his gaze from the enemy commander who fell from the arrow, Yusuf asked Arda.

“Did it need to hit perfectly? I could have just parried it with a sword.”

“If you’re okay with it hitting by accident, I’ll do it that way next time.”

There was no need to be overly concerned.

“Thanks. I’ll ask again next time.”

Honestly, he was still short enough that he probably would have missed anyway, but he didn’t point that out.

Arda’s ears turned a bit red, as if she understood that too.

Seriously sulky.

“That guy must be the commander. Arda, take his head and send it as a gift to Ismail.”

“Understood.”

Turning his gaze back to Arda, Yusuf looked around.

‘If Ismail had been here, we wouldn’t have won so easily.’

It was hard to imagine that such a monstrous human would fall for such a trick.

Well, nonetheless.

“It’s a great victory.”

The victor was himself.


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