“Everything is settled, Your Majesty.”
The words came from a loyal Janissary, part of the Sultan’s elite guard. At that moment, Murad, seated on the throne, knew that all preparations were complete. For a full month, he had worked relentlessly to solidify his position, purging potential rivals. This had the unified support of the entire Ottoman court.
They had learned from past experiences what their greatest vulnerability was.
Reflecting on the events following the death of Bayezid, a formidable conqueror, it was inevitable. The Ottomans had been forced into a decade-long rest, held back by succession laws that were not properly established due to their nomadic roots. Even the Sultan did not have the authority to alter centuries-old traditions swiftly.
But with multiple claimants to the throne, conflict was inevitable.
Thus, only one remained.
Murad was, by all accounts, the most suitable successor, armed with ambition, exceptional abilities, and the trust of his subordinates from a young age. Unlike the weak-willed Mehmed, Murad knew how to wield power.
He had also pledged to fulfil an ancient prophecy, promising to one day transfer the thousand-year-old city to the Muslims.
A ruler of true tolerance, destined to spread the true faith among the Christians who still clung to their old beliefs.
The court’s theologians and nobles praised him as such, and the Janissaries, too, preferred Murad over the soft Mehmed, who shied away from conflict. Hence, despite the suspicious circumstances surrounding Mehmed’s death, they easily supported Murad.
Determined to prove that their decision was right, Murad had devoted himself to eliminating other claimants as soon as he became a prominent contender.
The result was clear.
No one remained within the country who could threaten Murad’s position. Yet, even Murad could not completely dispel the shadows cast by the former ruler’s weak resolve. The Christians had a chance to unite against the Ottomans once more, and two claimants to the throne—both coincidentally named Mustafa—had fled.
One Mustafa, having already been defeated once, might not inspire much awe among warriors. However, Murad’s younger brother, who had yet to prove his worth, remained a formidable threat.
His favouritism by the late ruler and his youth were enough reasons for him to eye Murad’s position. Naturally, as Sultan, the right decision was to eliminate such a danger.
“You won’t easily kill your brother.”
Their father, the former Sultan, had mocked Murad one last time before closing his eyes. Despite the hurried blockade of Edirne and the ruthless killings, Mustafa had not appeared, just as their father had predicted. Murad deduced that Mustafa had fled to their enemies, reinforcing his belief that his actions were correct.
Their father had prioritized the safety of his favoured child over his duties as a ruler, making him unfit for the Sultan’s throne. Yet, Murad closed his eyes, feeling a dull ache in his chest.
What words could express the complex emotions left behind, mingled with disappointment toward his father? Unable to answer this question, Murad rose from his seat.
Soon, everyone in Edirne would learn of the new Sultan’s ascension.
Without anyone to oppose and with overwhelming support from the court, Murad sat on the throne once more, gently stroking the sword of the first Ottoman Sultan in his hand. Who would have thought a mere band of wanderers could forge an empire? What seemed impossible had been made possible by divine will.
But the divine never allows success to come lightly, always arranging trials to test the faith of believers. As Murad mentally reviewed the state of affairs, he posed a question to the court’s scholars, retainers, and warriors.
“Your Sultan asks you, who are our enemies?”
The elderly theologian was the first to respond.
“If you ask who our enemies are, I would say the atheists. But if Your Majesty asks about your personal enemies, then it is the Christians.”
“I would name Porphyrogenitus of Rome (born to the purple), the one reigning as the Despot of Morea, as His Majesty’s enemy.”
( TL : Porphyrogenitus is a title of respect shown towards Byzantine Empire )
“Are you referring to Dragases?”
Though Dragases’ power and reputation might not yet match those previously mentioned, Murad found himself nodding in agreement with the Janissary’s response. Surprisingly, others also seemed to acknowledge this notion. However, a rationale was needed. At Murad’s inquiring glance, the Janissary began to elaborate on their thoughts, speaking slowly and deliberately.
“It’s a fact that many did not believe, but it was Dragases, only twelve years old at the time, who led the unification of southern Greece. He persuaded the Emperor to unify Morea and spent the last seven years reorganizing it, driven solely by his hatred for us.”
“He also benefited from the indecisiveness of the late ruler.”
“Yet, had we struck Dragases, we would not have escaped without significant losses. The timing of Venice’s and Sigismund’s interventions was no coincidence. Moreover, the swift control over Athens and Thebes was nothing short of astonishing.”
( TL: Sigismund is the King of Hungary )
“…You’re suggesting that the rebellion led by the elder Mustafa was likely a scheme orchestrated by the Empire.”
“And it’s undeniable that Dragases is intricately involved at the heart of this sinister plot in some form.”
Only then did Murad understand why he so readily accepted Dragases as an enemy. Dragases possessed capabilities that had almost been overlooked due to the prior ruler’s poor judgment. From a young age, he had vowed to save his crumbling nation, honing his blade of vengeance for nearly a decade.
Consider his skill in leveraging surrounding circumstances to achieve the best possible outcomes. His quick judgment and decisive actions in the face of adversity were qualities that could not be overlooked.
The more Murad pondered, the more he realized that Dragases was, in many ways, his rival.
As the ruler of the Ottomans, aiming for global dominance from humble beginnings,
Conversely, Dragases appeared as the “last lighthouse” at the twilight of a fallen thousand-year empire.
True honor can only be claimed by defeating a worthy adversary. If Murad sought to become the new sultan, he must first dismantle the remnants of old glory. He felt his heart swell with anticipation. The stronger and more honorable the opponent, the more brightly he would shine.
Indeed, Dragases was his “rival.”
A divine ordeal, seemingly arranged by fate itself. The inevitable clash between two forces at the brink of history, stirring the fervor of youth within him.
On this day, Murad realized with clarity who his true adversary was.
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