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### The Prince of Africa (2)

Phosphorite refers to sedimentary rock that easily contains rich phosphorus (P).

“Simply put, it’s just a lump of bird poop.”

The term guano, which is another name for phosphorite, derives from the word for excrement used as fertilizer.

When growing plants, the three essential inorganic elements are nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. While nitrogen can be synthetically produced, phosphorus relies on phosphorite, making it significant even today.

This bird poop has been the catalyst for wars and turned small island nations into immensely wealthy countries, thus it is an important resource.

Notable areas rich in phosphorite include Morocco and the Sahara Desert.

Shamsi sighed while gazing long at the land designated by Yusuf.

“Surely, the Padishah didn’t mention any fertilizer without reason just to bother Prince Murad.”

“Why would I needlessly trouble Murad?”

“I can’t say that’s entirely untrue. You once gifted a young beast to Princess Hasna.”

“At least it’s fortunate I only brought back a cub.”

With Murad, it wouldn’t have been strange to drag in a full-grown lion.

“Or there’s also the issue of having a child with a woman of dark skin.”

I was surprised when I first heard this news.

The Ottoman aesthetic preferred blonde, white women like his mother Fatima or Aishe.

But it was merely surprising due to the unexpectedness.

“What’s unusual about a grandson born with a slightly unique skin color? As long as he has the ability, that’s what’s important.”

Yusuf replied while resting his chin in thought.

He believed, regardless of race, religion, or gender, as long as someone was of help to the Empire, it was okay. However, unfortunately, it was still early for the Ottomans to break out of such prejudices.

Allowing the prince and hatun to enter the capital while not allowing the grandchildren was also out of consideration for Murad.

If the firstborn was of mixed black descent, there were plenty of officials who would look at him through colored glasses.

‘I wonder if he has caught on to my consideration.’

Although he was his son, the intelligent Mehmet might not have noticed due to his nature of not caring much about his surroundings.

Even if he seemed oblivious, he was perceptive enough to potentially catch on.

‘It’s not like I did it just to look good in front of my own son, so it’s fine if he doesn’t notice.’

Yusuf relaxedly gave his instructions.

“Inform Murad. He should conquer that land and incorporate it into the Empire. Tell him to request necessary aid through Barbarossa in Algiers.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

This was enough direction for Murad.

It was a campaign for the future of the Empire while also assessing Murad, so it was best to leave the resolution of the task to him.

Yusuf quickly thought of other princes aside from Murad.

‘Mehmet will handle things well on his own. I’ll need to keep an eye on Mustafa’s company establishment since he will hold a majority share.’

In an age where merchant ships needed to prioritize their own defenses, as a company grows, it would become a group equipped with capital and military power, so holding on to shares was necessary.

‘Kasim’s scheming personality means he knows what to do.’

Foreign interference in the Ottoman succession was common, and now that the stage had been set, surely the West would also intervene.

Kasim would probably show a supportive attitude because he was the easiest to contact and appeared friendly to the West.

If one underestimated him and provided support, they would be greatly harmed by the crafty Kasim.

“By the way, I wonder how Suleiman, who went East, is doing.”

“He’s a brilliant individual, so he must be doing well. Didn’t we receive word not long ago that he’s fortifying the harbor?”

If he had successfully settled all the way to Taiwan, that meant half the mission had been accomplished, so even with curiosity, there was little choice but to trust and wait.

*

-Your Majesty! Suleiman Pasha, a Hui from the Ottoman Kingdom, has arrived.

“Let him in!”

Once Jungjong’s permission was granted, the doors of the Geunjeongjeon Hall in Gyeongbokgung opened.

The civil and military officials closely observed those entering through the wide-open doors.

It wasn’t just the exotic attire draped in turban and colorful silk. The overwhelming show of strength from the fleet posed a risk of turning against them.

‘The pirates shouldn’t be so easily subdued by our fleet; if they used Ming as an excuse…’

The coastline would have surely turned to ruins.

Hiding his cold feelings, Jungjong spread his arms wide in welcome.

“I am Suleiman Pasha from the Ottoman Empire.”

“Pleasure to meet you! Thanks to your people’s help, we were able to avoid significant damage to our citizens.”

“It was merely a light assistance for the sake of our friendly relations.”

On the hundred ships of pirates, there were over four thousand of them, yet they appeared relaxed, and Jungjong felt a slight chill of fear.

In place of the frightened Jungjong, Prime Minister Jeong Gwang-pil stepped forward.

He was one of the few wise ministers from Jungjong’s time, renowned for his straightforwardness and practicality in managing the country.

“I am Prime Minister Jeong Gwang-pil. Our country is unfamiliar with this nation called Ottoman; may I ask precisely where it is located?”

“I happen to have a gift with me that will help you see, Ibrahim.”

“Yes, Your Pasha.”

Ibrahim, who had been standing behind Suleiman, handed over a long tube he was carrying on his back.

Being a dangerous object, it couldn’t have been brought in so the civil and military officials including Jungjong gazed at the tube with curiosity.

Suleiman opened the tube and pulled out a rolled-up piece of leather.

“This is a simplified map drawn of the Empire.”

“Show it to me.”

As Jungjong took the map, his face showed slight shock.

Joseon had a world map made in the second year of Taejong, called the Honilgangni Yeokdae Gukdoji, which included Africa and Europe.

However, in that map, the land of Ming occupied nearly half of it, while the map brought by the Hui depicted even that vast Ming as just a small piece.

Although he knew the map Joseon held was exaggerated, realizing how exaggerated it was struck him deeply.

“How accurate is this map?”

“It should be accurate enough for navigation based on it.”

While it contained some exaggeration due to simplification, his words were not entirely incorrect.

After staring at the map for a long time, Jungjong asked with a glimmer of hope.

“What’s the area marked separately?”

“That entire area is territory of the Empire.”

Jungjong let out a faint moan at the territory that wasn’t greatly lacking compared to Ming.

He couldn’t arbitrarily use the term ‘Empire’ but called it a kingdom instead; feeling that self-referencing as an Empire would not be shameful at all.

Just the fact that such massive ships could be sent to this faraway place already implied substantial power.

Handing the map over to Jeong Gwang-pil, Jungjong then asked with a slightly fatigued expression.

“Thanks to you, I now know a bit about the country called Ottoman. So what can you provide us?”

“Just tell us what you wish for.”

“Is pepper possible?”

Jungjong’s eyes glimmered slightly.

In Joseon, pepper was used more as a medicinal herb than a spice, and the import of pepper surged after Yeonsangun, making it accessible for the people, but it was still an expensive item.

‘If I can obtain pepper through these people, then there’s no reason to maintain an unfriendly deal with the pirates.’

With Joseon relying on the pirates for pepper imports, expectant looks gathered, and Suleiman leisurely asked.

“What quantity do you need?”

“The most recent import from the pirates was about ten thousand gyeong. Can you provide such volume?”

“Ten thousand gyeong, how much is that?”

The inner court attendant, upon receiving Jungjong’s gaze, returned shortly carrying a small pouch.

“This is about one gyeong.”

As Suleiman felt the pouch handed over by the inner court attendant, he burst into laughter.

Seeing the Hui suddenly break into laughter startled everyone, and after calming down, Suleiman returned the pouch, saying,

“I was surprised because one gyeong is too light. Did you say ten thousand gyeong? We could easily bring back a hundred times that if we put our minds to it.”

Considering the route from India through Malacca to Taiwan, bringing in pepper was a simple task.

The mention of sesame pepper reaching as much as 600 tons left the Joseon people in shock, and Suleiman smiled brightly.

“We accept anything useful apart from silver and gold.”

That day, the people of Joseon felt the world expand before them.

*

Murad sheathed the sword he had been wielding.

It was a blade that had recently cut down nomads recklessly disturbing the coffee plantations not long after he had briefly stepped away.

“Father continues to handle you sons harshly.”

“What can I do?”

“What can you do? Orders have come down, so I must follow them.”

Replying briefly to Yagiz Pasha, Murad suddenly hugged a child running toward him.

“Father!”

“Ali, you’ve become quite heavy in just a few days.”

Though not as much as Murad, Ali was bigger than the other kids in his age, and as the beard tickled his face, he burst into a bright smile.

In comparison to his own sunburned skin, Ali’s clearly darker complexion made Murad playfully mess with him before passing the boy to his concubine who approached.

After observing the two, Yagiz carefully stated,

“Prince Murad.”

“Don’t worry about unnecessary things.”

Knowing what his supporter, Yagiz, was thinking, Murad spoke firmly.

“Honestly, I wasn’t pleased with my father’s consideration. He is my child, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“The Padishah thought of you.”

“And while I may not like it, I’m grateful nonetheless.”

Though he felt prideful, had they visited the capital, both would have surely struggled against discriminating glances.

Even without taking them along, the officials hinting subtly at new women to share was evidently a given.

“After visiting the capital, I definitely realized the Empire still has a long way to go.”

There’d be no chance for disagreements if discrimination stemmed from skin color, let alone language and religion.

It indicated that they had not yet united under the name Ottoman.

“If you become Padishah, you could change the Empire.”

“Well, I can’t be certain I can achieve what my father has yet to accomplish.”

Even the self-satisfied older brother, Mehmet, awaited their father’s acknowledgment, so Murad doubted his own abilities.

“Still, isn’t it worth trying with a life dedicated to it?”

Murad smiled refreshingly, and Yagiz bowed his head.

The driving force behind managing a land mingled with fierce sailors, cruel Arab nomads, and Africans with drastically different cultures, might just be that heart.

“If so, I have to complete the task entrusted by my father. Yagiz Pasha, prepare the ships. I shall head to Algiers.”

“Understood.”

As Yagiz withdrew to carry out orders, Murad shut his eyes.

Today, the sunlight felt heavier than usual.

*

In the region surrounding Algiers and parts of North Africa, Uruji Barbarossa had received the position of Beylerbey of the Ottomans.

Having been informed beforehand to support Murad, Uruji welcomed him and held a feast.

Enjoying the dancing courtesans along with lively music, Uruji offered a drink to Murad.

“Is the food to your taste?”

“Compared to the food eaten in the warzone, it’s a luxury. The meat is alright.”

“Haha, thanks to the canal that the Padishah opened, spices have come in cheaply.”

“There’s a limit to what can be covered with spices. Even with spices, lion meat had a strong odor.”

Pointing to the lion skin he had brought as a gift, Uruji nodded.

“The scent of a beast is difficult to handle.”

“Though eating might make one accustomed to the odor, there isn’t much reason to hunt just for that.”

Murad gulped down some strong alcohol.

As the atmosphere thickened, he asked Uruji, who was flirting with a scantily clad dancer.

“What’s the situation in the territories we need to conquer?”

“I do not understand why the Padishah wants such lands. They are almost abandoned wastelands. However, the country of Fas along the route is currently caught up in a conflict between two factions.”

Though referred to in English as Morocco and in Arabic as Maghreb, in Ottoman it was named Fas, derived from its capital, Fez.

Upon hearing Uruji’s words of two factions in conflict, Murad asked with interest,

“Is there no opposition to occupying the destination?”

“Though they are indirectly governed, they are blocked by mountains, and since the two factions are embroiled in conflict, they hold little interest in such lands. Resistance shouldn’t be too strong.”

“Good news.”

Nodding in agreement, Uruji hesitantly asked,

“But how do you plan to get there?”

The northern part of Africa was dominated by the lengthy Atlas Mountain range stretching 2,400 km from Morocco to Algeria, Tunisia.

Crossing it to reach their destination wasn’t an easy task, and in response to Uruji’s question, Murad answered lightly.

“There’s no need to overthink it. It’s an easy task.”

*

“Captain! It’s the Ottoman fleet!”

The Spanish admiral stood with a bewildered expression as he watched the fleet passing through the Strait of Gibraltar, boldly displaying the Ottoman flag.