I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The One Who Came to India (1)

The former Pope, Leo X, caused numerous problems.

Coming from the Medici family, Leo X lacked a sense for money and indulged in immense luxury.

In the early years of his reign, he squandered the finances he had accumulated until then, making a profit of 3 million ducats by selling over 2,000 clerical positions, but left behind a debt of 400,000 ducats after 8 years as Pope.

The fact that he wasted millions in just 8 years is astonishing, especially when considering that Charles V, the colossal Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, bribed his way to that position with a mere 850,000 ducats.

Furthermore, by approving the sale of indulgences to fund the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica, he sparked the Reformation.

In short, the current Pope, Hadrian VI, found himself in the position of having to resolve the innumerable issues left by his predecessor, and he had been doing his utmost for that purpose.

At least, that’s what the Pope thought as he turned to the gathered cardinals.

“Can you hear it? The voices of the citizens.”

Shouts cursing the barbarian Pope allied with infidels loudly echoed inside the Papacy.

“We can hear it well, Your Holiness. But, you can’t possibly stop those citizens, can you?”

“It is the behavior of the ignorant. It will subside with time.”

“We think so too, Your Holiness.”

Looking at the cardinals who laughed, the Pope clenched his fists tightly.

When he tried to abolish indulgences and prohibit the sale of clerical positions, it was the cardinals who resisted the most.

It would have been impossible for the horrific contents of the letter he saw to spread throughout Rome in just a few days without the cardinals’ involvement.

‘The very fact they handed me that letter is their scheme.’

Those passionate about isolating the Pope wouldn’t have shown him the letter sent by the infidel emperor without checking it first.

Suppressing the bubbling anger within him, the Pope asked in an irritable tone.

“Would it have been better if I had favored Emperor Carlos from the very beginning?”

Hadrian, who had worked as a personal tutor to Charles V, had a relationship with him, but he pretended to be neutral to rule fairly as Pope.

The cardinals reacted ambiguously to this question.

“I don’t know.”

“Then was it wrong to arrest Cardinal Soderini, who conspired with the King of France?”

“I don’t know.”

“…So, you think it was wrong to cut off your financial lifeline?”

Seeing the cardinals smirking without even offering an excuse made the Pope feel a tightness in his chest.

For him, who was a deeply religious, ascetic clergyman and highly knowledgeable professor, the decadence of Rome was a beast that was hard to contend with.

It was hard to find a cardinal without at least one illegitimate child, and many seemed to follow money instead of God.

When he was elected as Pope, he was worried about where he would reside, and the Rome he imagined was at least not like this.

“Where truly is the Lord in this place?”

As the Pope lamented in a low voice, the door opened, and a hurried voice echoed.

“Your Holiness! The infidel emperor has sent another letter!”

Once again, another letter from the infidel had arrived, and seeing the cardinals smiling, the Pope grimaced.

Inside, the cardinals, who were corrupted by worldly desires, isolated him, while outside, the citizens of Rome shouted that he was an infidel barbarian.

Feeling as if the world was trying to kill him, the Pope had an epiphany.

“Is this a trial given to me by the Lord?”

The cardinals’ eyes shook at the Pope’s unexpected statement, and as he read the letter, the Pope stood up.

“Satan is trying to obstruct the reform of the Church. If that is the case, then I cannot let go of my hands even more.”

He would burn his last remaining life to achieve reform.

With firm resolve, the Pope looked down at the cardinals.

*

Upon hearing the news from the Papal States, Yusuf smirked.

“This is a more resolute figure than I expected. A great person has become Pope.”

Of course, Hadrian VI was politically inept, but compared to the previous Pope, Leo X, he was much better.

He led a very frugal life, setting an example, unlike his predecessor, who indulged in immense luxury.

To the citizens of Rome, who sought visible opulence over dwindling finances, he might have appeared to be a barbarian ignorant of art.

“The Pope has announced he will attempt Church reform again. He’s trying to change indulgences first.”

“He will inevitably have sharp conflicts with the cardinals again. Did he not fail last time due to the cardinals’ opposition?”

At Suleiman’s words, Yusuf laughed.

He had thrown out the tinder, but he did not really mind how the results would turn out; seeing things unfold was going to be amusing.

“Since it has come to this, I hope the Pope lives long.”

The war with Italy was imminent, and in the Papal States, one of the pillars of the war, the Pope and cardinals were embroiled in disputes.

Moreover, Martin Luther, calling for the Reformation, was also actively moving, making it evident that it would be hard to focus on the Ottomans.

‘I hear he died from overwork and the heat in the original history; I wonder how it will be this time.’

With his mindset changed, as long as he wasn’t poisoned, he could live longer.

For the time being, there was no need to involve himself in European affairs, so Yusuf stopped the conversation and looked ahead.

“Be careful! Move slowly!”

As the wooden-wheeled cannon passed over the wooden plank connected to the ship, creaking noises echoed, and the laborers moving the cannon raised their voices.

The sight of cannons waiting their turn filling the harbor was enough to be exhausting just to look at.

“How is the supply?”

“There are enough siege cannons the French army wanted, but we are short on the naval cannons the pirates want.”

“Demand for naval cannons has been high lately, so there is no helping it. I wish Tahir was still alive.”

Yusuf brushed his well-worn rifle with his hand.

The artisan, who had been with him since Trabzon, had given his all until his back was bent, but he couldn’t fight off time.

The drilling machine for the secret cannon project was spearheaded by Tahir, and the void left by him was felt.

Suleiman, who had studied the drilling machine with Tahir, recalled the coarse voice of the artisan and smiled wryly.

“He left behind disciples.”

“Tch, there’s nothing we can do to bring back the dead to Allah’s side. Tell them to make additional drilling machines for the naval cannons.”

Understanding Yusuf’s intentions, Suleiman grasped it.

The demand for naval cannons had temporarily increased due to pirates.

Over time, demand would decrease, and the cannons made would become surplus equipment, so the intention to increase the drilling machines could only mean one thing.

“Are you planning to increase the number of ships beyond this?”

“There’s no better time to go further than now. When war breaks out in the West, I plan to send the fleet East.”

The rapid establishment of close relations between the Ottomans and France compared to original history made it uncertain how the war would unfold; it was clear that the war wouldn’t last forever.

Once the war resolves, the Ottomans would be even more wary than now, and by that time, they couldn’t afford to deplete their military power recklessly.

‘We should also prepare for the worst-case scenario where France betrays us.’

Once the Ottomans start to amass gold due to the canal, they might harbor ulterior motives.

Even if they came to attack along with an agreement to divide the Ottoman land among themselves, Yusuf was confident he wouldn’t be surprised at all.

In Aesop’s fables, one doesn’t just cut open the goose that lays the golden eggs without reason.

Greed is not something easily controlled.

“Are you referring to the Ming Dynasty to the East? I’ve heard from sailors who have traveled as far as Malacca.”

“It is a vast empire that can be compared with our empire.”

Though he said that, when it came to sheer strength, the Ming Dynasty was even greater.

Their population was far more substantial, and an empire that had not entered into decline was naturally powerful.

The explosive growth of the Ottomans during Yusuf’s reign meant it would be insufficient to catch up in such a short period.

‘But at least their military power can be matched.’

Until recently, the Ottomans had been actively engaged in Conquest Wars, so their military power was abnormally strong.

“So what scale of fleet do you have in mind?”

“At least 60 ships with Karak.”

“…Are you planning to go to war or something?”

Depending on the size of the Karak, 60 ships would mean over a thousand cannons onboard.

Sending such a number would be enough to astonish the opposition if they thought it was an invasion, so it was understandable for Suleiman to react this way.

“Only by this number will they start showing interest. But of course, the size may change depending on the situation.”

“We should hope it gets smaller.”

At this remark, Yusuf laughed.

Whether it gets smaller or larger is something to wait and see.

“Let’s inform the Ming Dynasty to avoid any unnecessary friction, and preparing for a long-distance voyage will mean we won’t set sail until next year at the earliest. In the meantime, we must lay the groundwork for trade routes.”

“That will be a tough job.”

Even with the Ottomans having absorbed the Portuguese territory, there were signs of backlash.

To suppress their discontent and smoothly proceed with the work would be no small feat.

Not knowing who would handle it, Yusuf patted Suleiman’s shoulder, thinking he would have a hard time.

“So I ask for your support, Suleiman Pasha.”

“…Padishah?”

“Please take care of the fleet going to the Ming Dynasty too.”

Not long after he had finally organized his Ottoman, Suleiman’s eyes shook at being entrusted with another monumental task.

“There is no one more suitable than you. If you are to lead the fleet to the Ming Dynasty, shouldn’t you at least carry some prestige? But I can’t send princes either.”

Most of the princes were still children, and if they were captured or died at sea, the empire would turn upside down.

In comparison, Suleiman had lost his claim to succession but was a nephew of Yusuf, so his status remained high.

Moreover, he was capable enough to represent Yusuf in dealing with the Ming Dynasty.

“Thank you for trusting me, Padishah, but I lack experience in such matters.”

“I am aware.”

Compared to the Suleiman of the original history, who had gathered various experiences under Selim’s favor, there were many shortcomings.

Suleiman worried that he might ruin the Padishah’s plan, and Yusuf understood this concern.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already prepared your assistants.”

“Is that so?”

At the mention of having assistants, Suleiman’s face brightened slightly.

Whoever it would be, it would certainly be someone chosen by the brilliant Padishah Yusuf after deliberation, so he could lessen his concerns.

“So who is it?”

“Your assistant? That person has already set off ahead of you.”

*

“Is this Goa? I’ve finally arrived.”

The man with a large scar on his face looked up.

In the center of the harbor stood a citadel, with the red flag symbolizing the Ottoman Empire waving in the wind.

Once ceded to the Portuguese, Goa had met its new owner, becoming a more vibrant port than before.

“We are not Portuguese! We are Venetian! Venetian!”

“Yes, Venetian!”

Merchants who seemed to be from Venice insisted fervently to the Arab merchants frowning that they were not Portuguese.

Merchants who purchased spices loaded their goods onto the ships with bright faces.

As the man moved through the bustling harbor, he felt a shock against his chest.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!”

As a boy continuously bowed, apologizing in clumsy Turkish, he tried to pass by, but the man grabbed the boy’s arm.

“You’re quite nimble, aren’t you?”

“Uh?!”

Before the boy realized the pocket he had snatched had returned to the man’s hand, his face turned pale.

Caught pickpocketing, the boy struggled to escape, but it was hard to break free from the man’s brutal grip.

The scene of his friend’s severed hand who had been caught earlier flashed before his eyes, and just as the boy tightly gripped the small knife in his arms with his lips pressed together,

“What’s going on here!”

At the shout of the Ottoman soldiers drawn by the commotion, the boy shut his eyes tightly.

It was too late to run away.

As he prepared himself for punishment while trembling, a rough hand was placed on top of his head.

“I will pretend to ignore what just happened, so why not work with me instead?”

At those words, the boy cautiously lifted his head and nodded slightly while looking at the man’s smiling lips.

“So what’s your name?”

“Hassan. I’m Hassan.”

The man clicked his tongue at the name Hassan and lowered his body.

“I’m Hassan too. Nice to meet you.”

The devil’s tongue has arrived in India.