I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

＃Episode 38. Aftermath

With Ismail taking Tabriz, the White Sheep Dynasty fell into chaos, and seizing the opportunity, he also took Erzurum.

Ismail, who wouldn’t let anyone take his meal, sent 5,000 Qizilbash in an attempt to reclaim Erzurum.

“I really cleaned up.”

Ismail thought of the worst outcome, but there wouldn’t have been a one-sided annihilation ending. He probably considered only severe damage to both sides.

His judgment wasn’t wrong.

While the numbers were similar, when it came to combat power, the Qizilbash, with their multiple experiences in wars, were superior.

“The casualties among our side, mostly three hundred, were due to the five hundred elite troops.”

Despite receiving orders to avoid fighting as much as possible, they sustained such losses because the enemy relentlessly charged.

Although the narrow width of the battlefield meant they couldn’t fully utilize their numbers, it was evident how outstanding the Qizilbash’s abilities were.

“Still, most of them died without even shooting an arrow.”

This was a significant blow to Ismail. The Qizilbash were immensely valuable troops for him.

To the extent that if asked to choose between one of the five thousand Qizilbash and one of his left testicles, he might cautiously present his left nut?

Of course, it wouldn’t cause him to crumble that easily, but it would hit him hard enough to keep him awake at night.

“Dealing with the aftermath is a hassle.”

Letting wild animals feast on carcasses is a concern only when there are a few bodies. If you leave thousands of corpses, disease can spread.

And then there were the spoils of war to deal with, which were no small matter either.

The weapons used by the Qizilbash and even the horses that died with their owners hold great value.

“Those that have died this way aren’t halal, so the Muslims can’t eat them, but others can certainly feast. We can also obtain horsehide.”

Moreover, with thousands of healthy reserve horses acquired, even distributing the spoils among the soldiers who fought would leave plenty left over.

Above all, the greatest joy was going with lovely gifts.

“I want to give Ismail the gifts quickly.”

Yusuf, laughing as he looked at the box containing Nebazar’s head, grabbed the reins.

Except for the 4,000 cavalry required for the aftermath, the rest of the soldiers headed towards Erzurum.

Ismail’s troops had almost arrived, so they moved rapidly within reasonable limits, and after five days, Yusuf reached the destination, which was half an abandoned Erzurum.

“If reinforcements hadn’t been sent, they wouldn’t have lasted long, right?”

“The commander seems to be extraordinary.”

Indeed, it was Ismail.

While besieging, he wasn’t neglecting his surroundings, for when they arrived it was midday, and he was pulling back his troops.

From this alone, one could glean his capability, and with Yusuf planning to ambush as he was distracted by the siege, he found himself licking his lips.

“Just give him the gifts.”

One cavalryman, following Arda’s orders, left the box near the enemy position, and shortly after, a cavalryman from Ismail’s side opened the box and returned in a hurry.

“It’s a shame I couldn’t see him jump with joy over the surprise gift.”

He probably would have leaped and cheered.

*

Thud!

“Aaaaah!”

Ismail, having smashed Nebazar’s head, shouted in anger.

The sight of Ismail losing his composure left the commanders with somber faces, and he slumped down into his chair, raging with a sense of dizziness.

The news that the enemy cavalry that had gone out to face his soldiers returned with Nebazar’s head meant one thing.

“Annihilation. Annihilation.”

Since most of the enemies had returned, even if there were any survivors left, they wouldn’t be a threat.

What on earth had they done to not have inflicted proper damage and been annihilated, leaving him wanting to question that shattered head?

Finally calming the boiling anger, one of the commanders cautiously spoke to Ismail.

“Your Excellency.”

“I know. We must retreat.”

Ismail made a rational decision.

No matter how furious he was, he wasn’t so irrational as to engage in a siege while thousands of cavalry stood beside him.

And what he was contemplating now didn’t involve retreating.

“Was the enemy commander a prince named Yusuf?”

“That’s correct.”

“That guy.”

“…What do you mean?”

Ismail looked frostily at the confused subordinate.

“The one spreading odd rumors.”

It wasn’t a conclusion backed by logical reasoning, just a hunch, but Ismail had no doubt in his judgment.

His instincts, which had saved his life multiple times, were telling him.

“Only 14 years old, huh?”

That age didn’t matter.

He was only two years younger, and at that age, he had achieved a great victory against Faruk’s 27,000 troops.

Recognizing his opponent clarified the reasons behind this defeat.

“Unlike the thoroughly prepared enemy, I fought without fully knowing the opponent, so it was inevitable.”

Thinking that way, Ismail asked.

“His older brother is seven, right?”

“Yes.”

To others, he might seem like a prince without any chance of becoming the master of the Ottoman Empire, but Ismail didn’t think it would be easy.

If it would be a long-standing feud, it was wise to prepare in advance.

“You can use traders heading for Trabzon or bribe people living in his territory. Gather as much information as possible.”

The arrogant king readily accepted the appearance of his rival.

“And recruit allies living in Rum. We’ll repay them in kind.”

The Shia allies would shake their lands according to Ismail’s footsteps.

Predicting Shia movements within the Ottoman realm, Ismail stood up.

“I will retreat. Revenge will come next time.”

Yusuf’s victory was certain.

*

Ismail was not an easy opponent to the end.

“I didn’t expect him to retreat to Erzinjan.”

Knowing he was being greedy, Ismail retreated to Erzinjan and entered without bloodshed, planting his banner.

Erzinjan had to choose between the Safavids and the Ottomans, but the army driven mad by defeat from Erzurum came knocking with axes, so they had no choice but to open the gates.

Just asking who they were would lead to immediate annihilation.

“Poor us for just watching the retreat without action.”

Already having gained everything, why poke at the tail of a venomous snake?

They just had to see him off to avoid any nonsense.

“What’s more, Ismail can’t collapse like this. He needs to create chaos in the Empire.”

Although he had achieved tremendous results, there were many conservative elders who were cautious about succession, so it was correct to see him only as standing at the same starting line as the other brothers.

To surpass the other brothers required finding a gap to squeeze through.

Additionally, there were benefits to be had.

[Great Victory, Score +10]

Though the score seemed low for a great victory, that’s how the system worked.

Adding to the previous 30 points from the smallpox earned, it now totaled 40, enabling him to procure yet another trait, and for now, that was satisfactory.

Next would be 80 points, but when would he gather that?

“Anyway, what’s important for now is that the war has come to an end.”

Trabzon, already hearing the news of the great victory, was in a festive mood, and he entered to loud cheers.

There were those waving gold acquired from dead Qizilbash, while others patted their horses received as their share and flirted with women.

Well, they intended to increase the population; he had no intention of stopping them. As long as they didn’t commit crimes.

“Come here.”

“I’m back.”

Fatima, looking much leaner than when he left, gently took Yusuf’s hand, while Aishe, standing elegantly beside her, said.

“The Hatun prayed every day in the mosque for the prince’s safe return.”

She might have bid farewell calmly to her son going to war, but it seemed her true feelings were otherwise.

She had cared enough to lose weight.

At Aishe’s words, Fatima frowned slightly.

“Don’t say unnecessary things. More importantly, you’ve grown quite a bit while I wasn’t around.”

“Is that so?”

Perhaps it was the age when one grows; it had only been a few months, yet he had noticeably grown taller.

Thanks to that, he could now climb onto a horse without help, though he was still panting.

For some reason, Arda, who had bandages wrapped around his arrow-wounded spots, sulked, “Burqa, the prince has grown this much.”

“One would think Burqa were my father or something.”

To be honest, they weren’t that close while he was alive.

Having casually enjoyed a reunion with Fatima, Yusuf quietly looked at Shamsi.

“Pasha, was everything fine in my absence?”

“What problem could there be for me at the rear?”

Though Shamsi feigned modesty, managing supplies from the rear was no ordinary task.

Since an experienced Pasha like Shamsi was in charge, Yusuf hadn’t worried about supplies even once and could focus entirely on the war.

“I know it is thanks to you that we conducted the war safely. Your contributions in this war are by no means small, and I will reward you for that.”

“I won’t refuse.”

Yusuf chuckled at Shamsi, reminiscing about the hardships of the past months.

Though the results had been good, given how long it took to prepare, the knowledge that one could die at any moment remained mentally taxing.

He was back in a house where he could rest.

“But not all wars are over.”

Yusuf’s eyes sparkled.

*

Even after winning the crucial battle against Ismail, this wasn’t the end.

“If I received help from Samtskhe, I owe them a reward.”

Even though Mzechabuk had a strong relationship with them, taking without giving would surely offend them.

The reward was punishing those other Georgians who were collaborating with the Safavids.

“Anyway, Ismail, having lost a substantial number of Qizilbash, will have no energy to worry about Georgia.”

Teaming up with Samtskhe to conquer other Georgian territories and extract taxes meant he would have fulfilled his tasks.

This war didn’t even require his direct participation.

Just leaving it to Arda to send troops would suffice, and the cowardly Georgian states would automatically cough up money.

“That makes Selim’s steps nearly identical.”

Selim had taken Erzinjan, while he had captured Erzurum—though he had achieved results five years earlier, which made a difference.

While lying in bed and sorting out thoughts, Yusuf heard a knock at the door, and upon granting permission, the door opened.

“Aishe, what’s going on?”

Aishe, who came late at night, approached softly and carefully sat at the edge of the bed.

“I thought we hadn’t talked much since you returned, so I came to see you. In fact, I’ve been praying with the Hatun every day for your safe return.”

“I see.”

Shyly twirling her blonde hair with her fingers, Aishe smiled and gently loosened her outer garb from her shoulder.

Dressed in a form-fitting gown that revealed her figure, Aishe embraced Yusuf tenderly.

“The Hatun said I should relieve the prince’s fatigue.”

Feeling her warm scent tickle his nose, Yusuf placed his hand on Aishe’s slightly trembling shoulder.

“Tonight will be short, I suppose.”

At that, Aishe mischievously replied.

“There will be more days to come, won’t there?”

That’s true. Once the reins were loosened, they could never be tightened again.

“Come to think of it, I think one of the traits was about having children.”

But that wasn’t the main priority right now. Soothing the excitement of his adolescent body came first.

The night deepened.