The 12,000-strong army of Murad successfully completed its crossing into Anatolia.
This was thanks in part to the Genoese ships participating in the expedition, and also due to the fact that Little Mustafa’s influence had yet to reach the vicinity of the Dardanelles.
Had any of the rebel beyliks or Little Mustafa possessed proper insight, they would have prioritized blockading the Dardanelles.
However, more than a lack of insight, the fact that Little Mustafa’s power was centered inland in the Karamanid Principality proved a hindrance this time. *Karamanid Principality is a place that is now known as Karaman Province in turkey
It wasn’t just a matter of distance. Though many beyliks had turned their backs on Murad, the presence of a few still-loyal lords played a role.
Amid this strategic situation, the swift action of Ishak Pasha, then governor of Manisa, shone brightly.
Believing that securing the entry route for the Sultan’s forces was of utmost importance, Ishak Pasha chose to abandon his own domain to defend the Dardanelles.
Little Mustafa’s plan to swiftly crush Ishak Pasha’s troops and take complete control of Anatolia failed from the start.
Though attacks from beyliks along the Anatolian coast soon followed, Ishak Pasha’s force of 3,000 had already fortified their position well, making them hard to move.
He held the defensive line without retreat until the Sultan’s crossing was complete—allowing Murad to step safely onto Anatolian soil.
Once he arrived, the Sultan fully reorganized his forces and then headed to meet the awaiting Ishak Pasha.
But it wasn’t just the familiar face of Ishak Pasha that awaited the Sultan there.
“So Dragases has finally become Emperor.”
Facing a wind mixed with sand, Murad let out a sigh that bordered on admiration after reading a letter detailing the Empire’s current affairs.
He had been watching this man closely since ascending to the sultanate—early on sensing he might become a rival, which he indeed had.
Now that the man had finally become emperor, it reignited a fire within Murad. Yet he didn’t let the flame show easily. Instead, Murad chuckled quietly and welcomed the familiar face that approached.
“You’ve managed to hold the line well, given your abilities.”
“I am at your service, my Sultan.”
Whether praise or jest, the Sultan’s teasing tone made the man dismount swiftly and kneel in respect. But Murad only laughed louder at the gesture.
“Isn’t it painful to suddenly act so proper, Ishak?”
“…I intend to get used to it.”
“That won’t be necessary. Right now, I speak to you as a friend.”
“Then may I speak more freely?”
“Alas, I just stopped speaking as a friend. Ishak Pasha, report the state of the war.”
“As you command, my Sultan.”
Slowly rising, Ishak Pasha began to share everything he knew with the Sultan.
Despite the complexity of the situation, his calm and measured tone had a settling effect on those listening.
“This current ‘Little Mustafa,’ who claims the throne, has drawn his sword with the backing of the Karamanid Principality. As a result, we could not avoid losing the region around Iconium. Furthermore, the northern principality of Candar has joined the fight, and we now face a multi-front pressure. Admittedly, in terms of sheer numbers, we hold the advantage… however, most of the coastal beyliks—like the one in Izmir—seem content to watch from the sidelines. They’ve responded coldly to our requests for reinforcements and shown no signs of action.”
It seemed Çandarlı Halil’s concerns were justified.
The beyliks likely conspired, fearing the loss of their influence at court.
Murad or Mustafa—who won no longer mattered to them. So long as they could preserve their power, either outcome was acceptable.
“That is actually good.”
“…In what way, my lord?”
“If they want something, they can be made to move. How could that not be a hopeful sign?”
“You already have a way to sway the beyliks?!”
“It was so simple I felt foolish for not realizing it sooner.”
As Ishak Pasha reacted with surprise, a tremor shook the ground from behind Murad. Identifying the cause was not difficult. It was the Sultan’s army.
Seeing Murad’s full force for the first time, Ishak Pasha swallowed dryly.
Among them were poorly equipped men, and others whose discipline was razor-sharp.
But it wasn’t just Turks. Christians clad in full armor and armed with strange, intimidating weapons marched among them.
Each had their own reasons for being here. Yet none of them disrupted the unity of the army.
Their origins didn’t matter.
Their beliefs were irrelevant.
What mattered was that this terrifyingly unified force, gathered here and now, was the Sultan’s greatest weapon.
They were Murad’s blade—an overwhelming force to punish those who stood against him.
This was a glimpse of the true power that the Ottomans had cultivated over the years, now bearing down on the Anatolian Peninsula. Almost as if to mark the beginning of that descent, Murad asked another question.
“Tell me everything you know about those who oppose me, Ishak.”
Ishak Pasha had long known Murad and understood the man well.
Murad was a leader who cherished his own people and respected even the customs of those with different faiths.
He was a man who strived to embody the tolerance taught in the Quran. But the Quran did not only preach tolerance.
It demanded decisive leadership. So it took little time for Ishak to grasp the direction Murad now faced.
“You have truly refined yourself, my friend, my Sultan.”
With deep admiration, Ishak Pasha bowed his head and fulfilled the Sultan’s command.
“I cannot determine their exact size, but the core of the enemy force is made up of Karamanid troops, supported by traitorous beyliks. Because of the sudden turn of events, I haven’t been able to calculate exact numbers, but I estimate their strength to be around ten thousand.”
Ten thousand was no small number.
Especially in a situation where the beyliks could join the fight at any moment, a single loss could be catastrophic.
Yet Murad neither despaired nor hesitated. Instead, the young Sultan welcomed the challenge with a smile radiant with joy.
“That is enough.”
“Enough for what, my lord?”
It was natural for confusion to arise from the Sultan’s sudden and unprompted remark.
Another man might have been punished harshly for questioning him, but Murad valued and respected his trusted friend.
Hands trembling with excitement, he looked at Ishak Pasha and explained:
“It means their numbers are sufficient to inspire belief.”
“….!”
Only then did Ishak realize what the Sultan meant.
It was a decision some might call ruthless. Yet compared to the greater bloodshed that would follow from half-hearted leniency, it was but a tear falling into a river.
To honor that decision, Ishak Pasha respectfully stepped back.
The Sultan watched him with approval, then pointed to someone within his ranks.
“Let the brother of Dragases come forth.”
At that command, there was movement among the commanders.
A still-youthful boy, barely steady atop his horse, cautiously approached the Sultan. Whether from the nearing war or something else, his face was pale with tension. But Murad paid it no mind as he calmly spoke.
“I’ve received word that Dragases has finally been crowned Emperor.”
“…At last.”
Hearing the long-awaited good news, the boy—Thomas—let out a deep sigh of relief.
A visible shift came over his expression. Murad’s gaze as he looked at Thomas was complex, but only for a moment. The young Sultan turned his eyes back toward the battlefield and asked:
“What did you see in your homeland’s thousand-year history?”
“…What kind of answer are you expecting, my lord?”
“All I wish is to know what you think.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes warily, suspicious of any hidden intent, but he soon let down his guard.
If the sultan had planned to make a move, a threat to his life would have come long before now. The sultan was not one to gamble politically, and so long as his focus remained on threats to the rear, Thomas would be safe.
There was no need to provoke him—but even so, Thomas remained silent.
What the sultan made of that silence, he did not show.
Instead, he spoke again, accepting Thomas’s silence without comment.
“I do not know what you saw in that thousand-year span. Even if I did, I doubt I could understand.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because we looked at the same place and saw different things. That intrigued me.”
With those words, Murad recalled the Oath of Osman.
But the oath that had truly stirred his heart was not the one made by the first Osman.
Rather, it was the vow made by Orhan—who once crossed into Greece to help a friend—that had given rise to the empire of today. Orhan had not seen a thousand years of glory.
*Osman was the founder and Orhan was the second Sultan of the Ottoman Empire
What he saw were the deaths of people suffering under a thousand years of faded splendor.
People perishing pointlessly amid political turmoil.
“What we saw in your thousand years… was a thousand years of despair and defeat.”
Yes.
The Muslims, including Orhan, who came hoping for a thousand years of prosperity, found only ruin—land ravaged by war and disaster.
The deaths that unfolded in a land without the words of the Prophet moved Orhan’s heart. And when he saw the scorched ashes with his own eyes, he betrayed his friend.
That is how the Ottomans rose.
And now, the Ottoman Empire poses a question to the thousand-year-old empire:
“Wasn’t a thousand years enough?”
Thomas gave no reply.
Murad slowly closed his eyes at that silence. Then, with a voice just loud enough for himself, he recited the faith held by himself and countless other Muslims and subjects under his rule:
The old age has ended.
When Murad opened his eyes again, the enemy forces were beginning to take shape in the distance.
Thousands in number. While Murad estimated their strength, his expression hardened with chilling resolve.
“To those who cannot believe in me—I shall show the sharpest blade I possess.”
It was not the sword passed down from the first Osman.
Nor was it a peerless legendary weapon.
It was the most powerful weapon of all—tempered not by a blacksmith, but by time itself. A blade forged of will and conviction.
“If you cannot believe… then I’ll make you believe.”
With those words, Murad’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw.
The blade, honed to a razor’s edge, waited patiently for its moment to cut down the enemies of the Sultan. As his fingers curled around the hilt, he calmly swept his gaze across the battlefield.
—Now, a new era approaches.
“Send word to Turahan: he is to lead the sipahis and draw their attention. Meanwhile, the Genoese and Epirote troops will form the left flank. Those assigned to the center will drive in the stakes we’ve prepared to hinder their cavalry. The right wing will use archers to prevent their advance.”
At the sultan’s command, the army began to move. Though young and inexperienced, Thomas was still part of this force—and could not defy the order. And yet, the fact that he had been unable to answer the sultan’s question gnawed at him. He bit his lip in frustration.
Just before parting from the sultan’s side, Thomas—his voice still that of a boy—finally replied.
“I do not know all that the sultan has seen. But whatever it is you’ve seen… from now on, the Empire will change. That is my answer.”
With those words, Thomas returned to his unit.
Murad did not stop him.
Change, he says.
Hearing Thomas’s answer, the young sultan stared at the battlefield and muttered softly:
“No… you will not change.”
His troops and the enemy forces gradually fell into formation.
Watching the two armies prepare for battle, Murad could only let out a hollow laugh.
Change, now?
After squandering centuries of chances and time?
Isn’t it far too late for that?
The thousand-year empire was given more than enough time. But now, the just Allah has granted another people their opportunity.
The time has come to fulfill the Prophet’s prophecy, as reflected in the tide of history.
It is far too late to speak of change now.
“You cannot change.”
The Ottomans have already risen.
Now that a new order stands to replace the crumbling thousand-year empire, what reason is there for that empire to continue? If someone were to ask that question, how many could answer with pride?
“It is the Ottomans who will open the doors to the new age.”
The old age has ended.
Now, only its remnants remain, weathering the winds of time.
The Ottomans will bring that age to a complete close.
By the Ottomans, the old era ends. By the Ottomans, the new begins.
That is Allah’s will, the prophecy of the Prophet—
—And the resolve of the Sultan.
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