Ismail lightly closed his eyes.

In the capital of the kingdom he had built, Tabriz, everything he had ever achieved lay before him.

The beautiful women captured during the Conquest Wars filled his harem, and the delicacies brought in from all over the kingdom always delighted his taste buds.

Everyone he faced knelt in submission, and he could have whatever he desired with just a gesture.

It was as if he had brought the life of paradise down to earth.

‘But, that’s still not enough.’

Ismail gripped the reins tightly in his hand.

As the luxurious life in the capital continued, a sense of emptiness grew within him, whispering where he truly should be.

“Shah, all preparations for departure are complete.”

At his subordinate’s words, Ismail slowly opened his eyes.

Dust puffed up from the dry ground, and he had to chew on tough jerky rather than juicy, spice-laden meat that would leave his jaw aching.

He never knew when he might get hit by a blind arrow, and the smiling companion beside him could become food for wild beasts by tomorrow.

That was the life of the plains and the life of a conqueror.

“This is my true life.”

Ismail murmured softly.

A life that proved that he was indeed the chosen one by Allah, constantly fighting, conquering.

It was a life meant to fill his empty heart, and the pounding of his heart, expectant of the brutal times ahead, sounded like the drums of war.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes, indeed.”

There was no need to be bogged down by unnecessary supplies.

Within the kingdom, he could simply seize what he needed from passing towns, and the plan was set to replenish at Samtskhe once they reached Trabzon.

What he needed to do was tighten the leash before the prey could escape.

‘From now on, there’s no turning back.’

It was a moment of choice, but Ismail spoke without hesitation.

“Let’s go!”

With this declaration, Ismail swung his massive scythe toward Trabzon.

*

It took Yusuf ten years to rise to the position of Sultan from Sanjakbey.

He remained the lord of Trabzon during that period, and the marks he left were far from insignificant.

It wasn’t just about the fortified walls reinforced with cement or the roads laid between major cities.

Like a dynasty that had ruled for centuries, Yusuf’s existence had deeply settled into the hearts of the subjects of Trabzon.

So much so that when they heard the news of an earthquake prediction, they regarded Yusuf as a saint.

‘How unthinkable, a normal Sanjakbey would hate this atmosphere.’

Arda, who became the new Sanjakbey thanks to Yusuf’s favor and past achievements, coldly assessed the situation.

Even if Yusuf was Sultan, the presence of his predecessor was too overwhelming for a Sanjakbey managing the territory independently.

No matter what one did, yearning for the previous ruler was not something to be taken lightly.

However, for Arda, who saw himself as a temporary vanguard preparing for war in Trabzon, it was not a problem.

On the contrary, he felt a strong sense of pride in being able to act as Yusuf’s representative and was carrying out his duties smoothly.

That was, until bad news arrived.

“…It’s my fault. I have no face to meet the Padishah.”

Arda bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Recently, spies in Tabriz had been discovered and obliterated, resulting in a gap in information.

They had only learned belatedly that Shah Ismail was advancing with the Qizilbash after the chaos in Tabriz.

Arda’s self-recrimination was met with quiet reassurance from the judge of Trabzon, Kadı Ömer, who influenced the administration.

“There’s no need to blame yourself for things that were out of your control. Honestly, did we have anyone to send to Tabriz right now?”

“…We didn’t. But if we had pulled personnel out from Georgia…”

“Stop right there.”

Ömer cut him off firmly.

“Reforming the kingdoms of Georgia was the Padishah’s intent. Disobeying orders due to potential risks is nonsensical. If you attempted to do so, I would have stopped you.”

Even though there were indications of a conspiracy with the West, no one expected Ismail to come charging in so aggressively.

There was no logical basis for abandoning Georgia at a time of great importance.

In the middle of their conversation, a soft feminine voice interjected.

“Indeed, Arda Pasha. Your fault lies not among us. Both I and Hatice believe that.”

“…Thank you, Hatun.”

Arda offered his respect to the two women who were gazing at him.

Apart from Valide Hatun, they were the two most noble women in the Ottoman Empire, and regardless of being women, they were deserving to be in this position.

“So what are the movements of the Shah currently?”

At Aishe’s question, Arda spread out a map and drew a line from Tabriz to Erzinjan with his finger.

“The Shah is estimated to be leading 30,000 Qizilbash. His target is likely our Trabzon.”

To the south of Trabzon lay rugged mountains, making it hard to invade, and he would have to cross either Erzurum, Bayburt, or Gumushane to enter.

Alternatively, he might step into the treacherous ground where Yusuf had previously wiped out 5,000 Qizilbash.

Given that it bordered the Safavid region, Yusuf had taken extra care in fortifying defenses, making it difficult for Qizilbash to penetrate.

“The issue is that the Shah appears to be making a significant detour after reaching Erzinjan.”

Ismail was maneuvering in a sweeping motion, avoiding the well-fortified southern and eastern areas.

There was no way to stop the 30,000 Qizilbash in the west, and they were advancing at an alarming speed.

“I estimate it will take no longer than three days to reach Trabzon.”

Arda’s explanation plunged the conference room into deep silence.

In three days, the peaceful land of Trabzon would turn into a battlefield.

Aishe calmly asked, “What about reinforcements?”

“I’ve already sent a messenger. However, do not expect a large number. The pace is too fast, and we risk being picked off one by one.”

Although he had only experienced victories under Yusuf, Arda did not underestimate the power of the Qizilbash.

Even if they gathered troops for reinforcements, the maximum they could muster was just a few thousand, and that number would likely be shattered before they could even set eyes on Trabzon.

Facing 30,000 Qizilbash with the pure forces of Trabzon would not be an easy fight, and Arda spoke with a resolute voice.

“The Shah’s targets are likely the two Hatuns and Princess Hasna. Therefore, you must escape while you still can.”

No matter how much the Safavid might be a rising sun, the difference in national power between them and the Ottomans was overwhelmingly significant.

Ismail had also risked immense danger with this attack, needing to inflict a serious blow to the Ottomans.

This involved the three women remaining in Trabzon, and Hatice, who had been quietly silent, answered in a stiff voice.

“Fine. I shall follow your wishes.”

Carrying a child not yet a year old like Hasna was a dangerous act, but staying here was becoming an even more perilous situation.

“Thank you. The preparations for the ship are already ordered. We can leave at any moment, so please ready yourselves.”

This was the reason for hastily summoning the two Hatuns after receiving the urgent news.

Thank goodness, the clever women did not stubbornly resist, and Arda felt a slight relief.

– Sanjakbey! It’s a disaster!

“Come in!”

With Arda’s permission, the hastily entered soldier knelt and shouted.

“The fleet of Samtskhe has appeared in the harbor!”

Samtskhe, ruled by Mzechabuk, who had a strong bond with Yusuf, was firmly allied with the Ottomans.

But without requesting assistance, hearing the fleet’s arrival instilled a sense of foreboding in Arda.

This sense of unease was proven correct.

“The fleet of Samtskhe has blocked the harbor and is attacking any departing ships.”

“Damn it!”

Anger surged in Arda, leaving him feeling dazed as if someone had reached inside his head and stirred it furiously.

Samtskhe has betrayed? Mzechabuk? What should he do?

As complex questions swirled in his head, a sharp voice cut through.

“Arda Pasha!”

“Yes, yes! Hatun!”

Responding to Aishe’s reprimand, Arda was finally able to meet her calm green eyes.

“Stay composed. The only person we can trust right now is you.”

“…I apologize for showing such a disgraceful manner.”

“It’s alright. Since the harbor is blocked, boarding a ship will be difficult, right?”

After a moment’s contemplation at Aishe’s words, Arda nodded.

“If Samtskhe has betrayed us, then the ships at the harbor cannot break through their encirclement.”

“Then what about moving overland?”

“I regret to say it, but that seems difficult as well.”

Although the main force would arrive in three days, the vanguard galloping day and night was expected to reach Trabzon even sooner.

Moreover, with Ismail’s army advancing from the west like a scythe, the chances of being caught before escaping to another city were high.

Having waged war, there would likely be many spies watching the area around Trabzon, making it even riskier to leave the city.

“Then there’s only one answer. Let’s hold out here in Trabzon until help from the Padishah arrives.”

They would have to withstand against an enemy of about 30,000 with a mere 4,000 troops they could gather in a short time.

While waiting for reinforcements that could arrive at any moment.

In three days, a scythe would be aimed at Trabzon.

*

Yusuf clenched the report from Trabzon in his hand.

No one dared to meet the gaze filled with rage that made his knees ache.

‘Ismail, you’ve finally made your move.’

Had he been careless? No, that wasn’t the case.

His opponent was Ismail, after all. Not in a state of defeat, but the state of a conqueror who could be called a god.

Yusuf was not foolish enough to let his guard down against such an enemy.

However, the current situation occurred due to two reasons.

‘First, I was blinded by the cleanup of spies starting from Tabriz, and second, Samtskhe’s betrayal. These two are the problems.’

In the Safavid empire, spy activities had dwindled, and while it was difficult to run prominent messengers, discreet intelligence deliveries would be manageable.

The gap in spy networks hadn’t been lengthy, either.

It had only been about three months since he had received news that all spies in Tabriz, save one, had been killed.

It was an absurdly short amount of time to recollect personnel and reorganize the intelligence network.

‘Even if spies were operational, it wouldn’t have been easy to avert this one blow.’

If he were in Trabzon, it would be different, but he couldn’t handle the affairs happening in Tabriz from a distance equivalent to five times that between Seoul and Busan.

‘And Samtskhe’s betrayal was the biggest issue. Without that, it wouldn’t have posed a threat.’

While it may sound cold, Trabzon was merely one of many Sanjaks.

Even if it were to be occupied, it wouldn’t pose a significant threat, nothing that would accelerate a dire day unless the two Hatuns and the daughter were indeed at risk of being taken hostage.

In any case, it seemed Mzechabuk, who was to hold power for another five years, had been ousted from Samtskhe, and the situation had already unfolded.

Yusuf coolly issued orders.

“Grand Vizier!”

“Yes, Padishah!”

“Dispatch the fleet in Gallipoli with urgent news. The destination is Trabzon.”

Fortuitously, the fleets gathered from Venice and the Papal States hadn’t yet moved, meaning they could be dispatched right away.

If the fleet arrived before Trabzon fell, Ismail would be left empty-handed.

“And ready the Janissaries. I will directly lead the campaign.”

“Understood!”

The fact that the Padishah himself would lead the troops indicated the battle’s significance and showcased just how furious he was.

Looking at the hurried officials moving about, Yusuf wore a fierce expression.

‘Ismail, do not cross the line. If you don’t wish for your kingdom to become a pile of rubble.’

The beacon that rose in the east awakened the Sultan’s fury.