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Ismail gazed upon the Trabzon Citadel.

For a moment, he forgot his purpose, overwhelmed by the abundance of Trabzon, with the very citadel before him as its pinnacle.

The castle walls extended from the hills all the way to the sea, encompassing the harbor, and while the enemy soldiers lining the thick walls might show signs of tension, they were not afraid.

“What a magnificent fortress. This won’t be easy.”

Having conquered countless castles, he judged this one to be well-prepared for defense.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, several ships encircling the citadel approached the shore, and Ismail went out to greet them.

The ships, having reached the dock used by fishermen, dropped anchor and, guarded by nervous soldiers due to the surrounding Qizilbash, a middle-aged man set foot on land.

“I present myself, Sha Ismail, ruler of the Safavid Kingdom. I am Sargis from the Principality of Samtskhe.”

Ismail nodded at the grim-faced Sargis paying respects.

“There’s no need for unnecessary pleasantries. I trust the harbor has been surrounded without delay?”

“Rest assured, we have monitored ships departing from the harbor even before surrounding Trabzon, and no suspicious vessels have left.”

“Are you certain?”

The repeat of the question, hinting at doubt, could easily offend, yet Sargis replied in a stiff tone.

“This battle is tied to the fate of our principality. Please do not think that we are approaching it lightly compared to the Safavid Kingdom.”

“To disrespect the Shah is a death wish!”

At Sargis’ words, the Qizilbash gripped their swords and snarled, poised to kill at any moment, but Ismail waved his hand.

There was no need for unnecessary emotional clashes, as this operation was impossible without the help of Samtskhe.

“You’re not wrong. You share the same boat as me.”

“…Indeed.”

From the very beginning, Samtskhe had no choice but to side with Qvirkvare; in other words, Qvirkvare had no option but to ally with the Safavids.

Time waits for no one, and Mzechabuk knew well that power does not last forever.

However, the reason he was forced to go to such lengths was that he was not the only one waiting for Mzechabuk’s death.

Sargis sighed inwardly at the thought of his country stepping onto such a dangerous path.

“If it weren’t for Manuchar, I wouldn’t have betrayed the Ottomans.”

Manuchar was another uncle of Qvirkvare and the mastermind behind this whole affair.

As a pro-Ottoman figure leading troops in the royal succession battle in place of the regent and the puppet, he was openly eyeing Mzechabuk’s position as his successor.

It was clear that the Ottomans would choose Manuchar, who acted like he would give his innermost self, over Qvirkvare, who had likely become a resentful pawn.

“Just how fearful was he that he beheaded Manuchar as soon as he gained power?”

The very fear he felt was evident.

Regardless of the reasons, having crossed an irreversible path with the Ottomans, the importance of this battle loomed large for survival.

He had to accomplish his objectives, even at the cost of his life, and Ismail evaluated the determination in his eyes.

“Good resolve. You have the same look as the Qizilbash.”

To be compared to the Qizilbash, who had weathered many adversities together, was the highest praise for Ismail.

“Do not worry. I too did not come with a light heart.”

To arrive in Trabzon from Tabriz in a short time was no simple task. This did not merely refer to the fatigue of the cavalry.

Speed necessitated leading a focus unit, and he had to advance while securing supplies from the cities they passed.

Receiving supplies smoothly without wasting time in each city was critical, and in the Safavid, only Shah Ismail could accomplish this.

He alone could lead wild Qizilbash into an arduous march.

The fact that Ismail had come out himself already conveyed the importance of this matter.

“This is the only chance to stop the new Ottoman Sultan. You all agree with this thought, do you not?”

“That is correct. He is a formidable opponent.”

“Formidable? It may be an accurate expression.”

Ismail did not expect to utter such weak words, yet he agreed.

The name Yusuf had not been known for even ten years, yet now just mentioning it caused tension around.

The Westerners, who had prided themselves on their status as infidels, hurriedly sought cooperation, while the Mamluks were suppressing rumors to prevent Yusuf from being labeled an infidel.

No previous Ottoman Sultan had been able to impose such a presence just by existing, making everyone realize the importance of binding this monster.

“If we do not restrain him now, he might devour us all.”

“There’s no need to be frightened. What we need is time.”

By turning around the hearts of the Mamluks, who were worried about the Ottoman rise, they just had to endure until the chaos in the West settled.

When everyone around turned their blades toward the Ottomans, they could finally free themselves from this fear.

Thus, they had to seize hostages to buy time.

“Sargis, is all the supply prepared?”

“Of course. Not only our Samtskhe, but other countries will also take charge of the supplies.”

The betrayal of Samtskhe, which was moving to eliminate some Georgian kingdoms, had been exposed, and they turned back to the Safavid.

With their support, there was no need to worry about supply issues.

They would abandon supply and advance quickly, taking what was necessary through the harbor occupied by Samtskhe.

So far, their plans had been proceeding smoothly.

“Your Highness, I have returned.”

While conversing briefly with Sargis, a subordinate, who had received orders to step out, bowed deeply.

“What happened?”

“When we arrived, we found it in a completely destroyed state. It seems hard to confirm any methods of cement production or research conducted there.”

Hearing that the place they had worked hard to infiltrate had turned into ruins with nothing to salvage, Ismail answered nonchalantly.

“That’s fine. There are bound to be those inside who know the methods. We only need to breach those walls.”

There were hostages for buying time and the techniques that Yusuf kept tightly hidden, all within those walls.

That just added another reason to get over them.

“Prepare for the siege.”

The Shah’s command echoed.

*

“When the Padishah arrives, I will tear the Samtskhe scoundrels apart.”

Arda declared fiercely, and the stern-faced cavalrymen nodded in agreement.

Having to see Samtskhe receiving siege equipment through their supply line, it was no surprise that their anger was boiling over.

“My Sanjakbey, the cement blocking the gates is solidifying nicely.”

Hassan climbed onto the walls, dripping with sweat, and spoke while hastily wiping his brow.

After all, there would be no opening the gates until the Sultan’s reinforcements arrived; the gates were thoroughly sealed with stones and cement.

They were resolved to endure, intending to hold their positions as long as possible.

“Thank you for your hard work, Hassan.”

“There’s no need for such formalities!”

When Arda replied politely, Hassan waved his hand.

There was a colossal difference in status between the newly freed slave Hassan and the Sanjakbey Arda who had received a title.

“Hassan, you are a man of the Padishah, so formalities are due. Once you return to the capital, you may receive a proper post.”

“Would it even be higher than your Sanjakbey position?”

“That is hard to say. The Padishah does not overlook merit.”

Having contributed to the production of cement, gunpowder, and firearms, he was now also responsible for the field research of composition soils.

The tasks he was assigned were far from light, and that was why Arda’s words were not empty.

Looking at the enemy’s catapults, which were slowly being completed, Arda spoke in a solemn voice.

“Thank you for your help thus far. Now, please take shelter in a safe place.”

“It would be even more dangerous to just run away before the battle begins.”

“Hahaha, you’re still in chains, I see.”

Everyone around, not just Arda, burst into laughter.

There was no one here who didn’t know that Hassan was trapped by a certain woman.

“What can I do? I have sinned. If this place falls, she says she will personally kill me. I know too many secrets.”

“Sounds just like her. Are you not saddened by this?”

Hearing she would kill him to keep secrets, it could be distressing even if it was a justified decision.

“It’s fine. I already knew she was that kind of woman. Instead, since I said I’d die following her, I guess that’s my comfort.”

Arda spoke with determination towards the chuckling Hassan.

“Worry not. There will be no such thing. I will hold on to life, even at the risk of my life. Now, please return to a safe fortress.”

With the booming sound of drums, the assembled catapults gradually moved forward.

It was the moment marking the beginning of the siege, and the soldiers clenching their weapons exhaled heavy breaths mixed with tension.

“Now it is our time.”

With that, Arda turned and shouted loudly.

“Prepare the catapults!”

-Attack! Attack!

As the enemy surged forward, the catapults inside the Trabzon Citadel hurled stones.

The siege had officially begun.

*

The betrayal of Samtskhe and the attack of the Safavid quickly became known around them.

Thanks to the rapid messages sent from Trabzon, the news quickly reached the Circassians, closer than the capital.

“How many troops can we gather immediately?”

“With a considerable effort, only 6,000 at most.”

That 6,000 was possible because the Circassians, recently united under the center of the Ottomans, were divided among several tribes.

Maintaining a standing army was not an easy issue within the tribal group of Circassians.

“Then we must send whatever troops we can.”

“Do you think 6,000 will make any difference? Did you not receive the order from Trabzon to not even send reinforcements?”

Trabzon desperately needed every man, but with it completely surrounded, they were unable to send any messengers.

6,000 was not a small number, but there were 30,000 Qizilbash forces, having trampled over 7,000 of them before.

The power difference was vast, and even Ivan agreed with this.

“I am well aware of that. However, we must provide assistance.”

“Even with Aishe Hatun there, it is futile!”

Within the Ottomans, Yusuf was treated like a prophet, while in Circassia, Aishe was regarded as a saint.

However, no matter how much they wanted to save Aishe, they couldn’t afford to waste 6,000 soldiers.

“It’s not just for Aishe Hatun. This is an opportunity for us. Surely you have not forgotten how much has changed since receiving the Ottoman protection.”

“That is…”

Even the shadow of the cruel raider, the Crimean Khanate, had become scarce, and the newly established Astrakhan Khanate barely dared to attack, respecting the Ottomans.

Circassia was enjoying perhaps the most peaceful period in decades.

“This is an opportunity to gain more favor from the Padishah. He is not a man easily shaken by such trivial dangers.”

“So you mean to squander 6,000 troops for nothing?”

At that remark, Ivan raised the corners of his mouth.

“You are under one fundamental misunderstanding. We are not heading to Trabzon.”

“Then where do you intend to go?”

“We plan to attack the harbor of Samtskhe. How about that? Doesn’t it sound feasible?”