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# Chapter 35. Clash (1)

Who dies first in a war?

It’s the infantry who must rush to the walls and hang on them during a siege, or the cavalry who needs to fight against the soldiers equipped with technology similar to modern-day tanks.

Even though they are classified as nobility within the military, cavalry must charge into combat, or face the commander who is the enemy’s top target but holds a relatively stable position.

“The answer is the unlucky fellow.”

You can die in a totally unfortunate way, it’s true.

In the 12th century, nobles gathered at St. Peter’s Church in Erfurt for a meeting when the second-floor meeting hall collapsed, dropping them into a pit of sewage below.

As a result, about 60 people drowned in sewage, including a count and eight princes of the Holy Roman Empire, along with numerous knights.

“I didn’t raise my luck in vain. If someone can die like that, there’s no guarantee I won’t get hit by a stray arrow on the battlefield.”

Even the lucky ones think about when their luck might run out; getting hit by a catapult?

A pebble launched from a catapult can easily kill a person, and if it only results in serious injury, the enemy should consider themselves quite lucky.

“It’s true that it’s good news for the lord to surrender after sustaining only serious injuries.”

They saved time and cement, and there were no troop losses.

As I looked outside, which was getting more chaotic, it could indeed be marked as a great victory, yet it felt like the luck that had laid dormant for three years had suddenly come back into play.

“Isn’t it frustrating?”

I can’t even express how hard I worked to prepare for this siege.

With no cannons to fire and a small troop, the only thing I could rely on was all the cement, which I struggled tremendously to secure.

Hassan had slimmed down significantly while creating a mass production system.

“If I knew it would end this easily, I would have laid roads between cities.”

With the massive amount of cement coming in, there was enough to build at least one fortress, so a few roads could have been paved.

The lost opportunity costs felt wasteful, and with everything settled due to pure luck, it left an uncomfortable feeling.

While I was in this strange mood, commanders approached me.

“It seems that Allah’s will lies with you, Prince. I never expected the lord to be struck by a catapult.”

“The soldiers are awaiting your command, my prince!”

As the excited commanders poured out their words, I raised my hand to calm them.

“You all wish for the rewards of a rightful victory, don’t you?”

“Yes, indeed. That’s what the soldiers desire.”

Yagiz’s words drew nods of agreement from the other commanders.

The army is like a double-edged sword for commanders.

If they fail to placate the soldiers’ dissatisfaction, a mutiny that threatens their lives may ensue.

So much so that when Selim became Sultan and engaged in war with the Safavid Empire, even the Janissaries retaliated by firing blank shots into Selim’s tent as a sign of discontent.

“Well, it can’t be helped. A dull siege is still a siege.”

Things were different than back in Bayburt, where I didn’t swing a weapon even once.

After making a decision, I spoke.

“Who would have thought that this fortress could be taken just with a few catapult shots? This means that Allah is watching over our crusade.”

“That’s right!”

To be precise, it might be more about luck than Allah.

“They may not have recognized our heart to help our brethren in faith, but we opened this crusade to aid them. Thus, I set the pillage to one day only.”

One day of plunder was a proper compromise.

“I cannot ban pillaging when considering the soldiers, but three days of pillaging would be too long if I want to soothe public sentiments afterward.”

It could be manageable in passing occupied territories, but Erzurum was a critical defensive area.

Understanding my will, the commanders nodded.

“One day may feel insufficient, but the soldiers will understand.”

“Then I will inform them as such.”

The commanders left the tent, and shortly after, a frenzy of cheers erupted from outside.

*

Sounds of destruction and screams erupted all over Erzurum.

In the lord’s defensive headquarters, the elite guard in light armor were on high alert while I inquired of my guard, Arda, beside me.

“Arda, it’s fine if there are other guards; you can pursue a good woman if you find one.”

Arda, stepping in time with me, replied bluntly.

“That’s fine. I promised Burka to stay beside you, my prince.”

“Burka, what a nostalgic name.”

It wasn’t a particularly good relationship, but it was one that stuck vividly in my memory.

“Are you alright, Prince? Isn’t this the age when you are highly interested in women?”

“I’m not thinking about that.”

With puberty hitting, there was a drive for desire and I could certainly take any woman if I wanted, but I have purposely distanced myself from that.

“If I embrace a woman with such a troubled mind, I feel like I would fall for her.”

No matter how much I had matured mentally, the uncertainty of when I might die still loomed large and terrifying.

There were days I wished to run far away from being a Sultan and sometimes even considering an escape into the distractions of women.

“If I can get through this war safely, at least I might have some ease afterward.”

Thinking of women could wait until then.

Honestly, my standards had been raised due to Aishe, making it hard to be satisfied with anyone ordinary.

Having exchanged trivial banter with Arda, I entered my destination.

“Welcome, my prince.”

“Ah, this is Abadan, the lord of Erzurum. Sinan, how’s the condition?”

“The right leg was crushed by a catapult and a limb amputation was performed. We need to observe the progress further.”

In an age without antibiotics, you could expect at least a quarter of the patients to die post-amputation.

Fortunately, Sinan had learned about sanitation concepts, so the death rate might be lower, but it would not be unusual for Abadan to pass away at any moment.

While I spoke with Sinan, Abadan’s eyelids twitched slightly and he opened his eyes.

“…You are the prince of Rome.”

The Ottoman Empire isn’t a nation with an official title.

Within the empire, it was commonly referred to as the ‘well-protected land’ and when referring to its dynastic nature, it was called the ‘Ottoman State’; from a religious standpoint, it was termed as ‘the land of Islam’. It was also referred to as Roman because the core regions once belonged to Eastern Rome.

Other Turkic peoples also referred to the Ottoman Empire as Ottoman or Anatolia, or even as Room, which means ‘Rome’ in Arabic.

“So, seeing you here means that Auhn has declared surrender.”

“Hmm, wasn’t that your command?”

“How could an old man who just fainted from a rock command anything?”

Who surrendered wasn’t the main issue.

The crucial detail was the bloodless entry.

With screams echoing from afar, Abadan, with a solemn face, spoke as he gently closed his eyes.

“Because of the stubbornness of a pitiful old man, innocent people are suffering.”

“If you were going to open the gates this easily, it would have been better to surrender quietly.”

It would indeed feel hollow, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the public sentiments of those plundered.

In response to my remark, Abadan gave a bitter smile.

“Prince, may I ask one favor?”

“Speak.”

“How could I possibly continue this pitiful life, having caused so many to shed their blood? I wish to go before Allah and confess my sins.”

Though his words were lofty, the underlying meaning was essentially a plea for death.

Watching him quietly for some time, I finally spoke.

“…You mean it.”

“Of course.”

“Unlike the previous lord I met in Bayburt, you are different.”

“At least it’s better than not causing bloodshed at all; so what do you think?”

Before I could respond to Abadan’s inquiry, there was an interjection.

“No, Abadan!”

“Auhn, you don’t belong in this. This is a matter between the prince and me.”

When Abadan cut him off, Auhn bit his lip in frustration.

As I observed the scene unfold, I spoke.

“Are you truly going to shoulder all wrongdoings for your subordinate and son-in-law?”

If Abadan declared that all wrongs belonged solely to him and accepted death, that would gain Auhn support for swiftly surrendering and minimizing damages.

It was completely achievable to create that sentiment.

“If it’s Auhn, he will be of much help to the prince, so I won’t regret it.”

“That may be true. But what about you? You certainly won’t escape unscathed. The enraged populace will throw stones at you in rage and insult you. Your death will be anything but honorable.”

To be treated that way by those who followed him until recently would be more painful than one could imagine.

Yet, Abadan wore a small smile instead.

“If my death can quell their rage, then I can face Allah with my head held high.”

“You foolish man.”

He was the most foolish person I’ve seen after Burka.

Despite my personal sentiments, there was no reason to refuse such a proposal. It could resolve the headache of dealing with a problem caused by a single death.

“Then I’ll promise you one thing: your remaining family will relocate to Trabzon and live in comfort.”

“…Thank you.”

There was no need for further discussion, so I turned my body.

Both the subordinate who was shedding silent tears and his superior who had accepted death would need their time in solitude.

*

“Balas, why did you let that rumor spread?”

“I-I don’t know anything about it!”

Balas, the ruler of Idhir, trembled on his knees while Ismail, who had recently defeated the armies of the White Sheep Dynasty and earned the title Shah of Iran, wore a cold smile.

Iran meant ‘land of the Aryans’, signifying that he had indeed garnered considerable support.

Despite this favorable situation, Ismail felt discomfort due to a disturbing rumor spreading widely.

“Are you truly claiming you didn’t spread it? That I slaughtered those Sunni dogs and am not a descendant of the Imam, they say?”

“I-I swear, it’s not true! Please believe me!”

Banging his head against the ground repeatedly, Balas yelled, leaving blood smeared on the floor from his split forehead.

Seeing his sincerity, Ismail nodded.

“It doesn’t seem like you propagated that rumor.”

“…Then?”

“But what’s important is that this rumor bears your name.”

Ismail swung his blade mercilessly, and Balas, half-decapitated, fell twitching to the ground.

Turning away coldly from Balas, who was gasping for life, Ismail wiped the blood from his blade with a cloth handed by his subordinate.

“I don’t know who it was, but it’s rather amusing, don’t you think, Nebazar?”

“One day, you shall pay for your sins in front of the Shah.”

“Of course, that’s to be expected. But what about Erzurum? Is it occupied by the Ottomans?”

“Indeed, it is.”

Ismail furrowed his brow.

While the future remains uncertain, launching a full-scale attack on the Ottomans in the present was no small feat.

The one good thing is that the Ottomans lacked the luxury of moving a large army eastward, and this was merely an operation led by one prince.

“What about us? Can we occupy Erzurum?”

“It won’t be easy. It’s a solid fortress, and if the siege drags too long, we’ll have to retreat when winter comes.”

As the length of the siege increases, it would become more difficult to attain Erzurum, so there was no time to waste.

Ismail made his decision.

“Then we must make it difficult for them to hold onto Erzurum, Nebazar.”

“Command me.”

“I will allocate five thousand troops for you. Occupation is unnecessary. Just burn the foolish prince’s land and plunder it.”

Nebazar replied with a face filled with joy.

“Trust me with this.”

*

While I watched Abadan’s head hanging on a gibbeting post, Arda asked.

“What will you do with all that cement?”

Because we conquered too easily, a considerable amount of cement piled up that we couldn’t even utilize, and after pondering, I answered.

“I suppose I should build a fortress at the intersection.”