Thank you to Haydar_Hassoun, Pankaj_Sharma_1099, and DaoistYnQbSm for your support with the Power Stone. Before publishing this chapter, I saw your support, and as I pressed the publish button, I truly felt your encouragement. It made me so happy. I am really grateful. Thank you again.
The spacious courtyard of the Enderun Academy bore the marks of discipline and determination in every corner. Enclosed by high walls, the sounds of young men destined to be the future leaders of the Ottoman Empire echoed across the grounds. The faint scent of earth and stone, carried by the breeze, was a reminder of the intense training and orderly practice that filled the academy. In the center of the courtyard, under ancient plane trees, the sounds of swords clashing and the rustling of iron armor in the fencing area were reminiscent of a battlefield. These students were the lifeblood of the empire; some were sons of state officials, while others were talented youth selected through the devshirme system. The privilege of being at Enderun was both a source of pride and a heavy responsibility for all of them.
As Prince Osman stepped into the courtyard, all the boys immediately stood at attention, setting their swords aside. Osman, with a seriousness beyond his years, looked around, acknowledging their salutes before speaking confidently:
"At ease, you may continue."
With these words, the lively atmosphere of the courtyard resumed. Kemal and Hasan, who had been sparring, resumed their match with Osman's approval. Aware that they were being watched by the prince, they fought as if testing the limits of their abilities. Both thought to themselves, "What a perfect chance to catch Prince Osman's eye," and became even more focused on their fight.
Kemal seized every opportunity to taunt Hasan, trying to break his concentration. However, Hasan remained calm, countering every move without being distracted by the provocations. The match grew faster, and the students watching held their breath in anticipation. Finally, Hasan overcame Kemal with a decisive move, winning the bout. A smattering of applause broke out from the crowd, and someone called out enthusiastically:
"Hasan wins again! Kemal never gives up, does he? But Hasan's never been beaten. Sometimes, you just have to accept being second."
Osman, smiling slightly at these words, called out to Hasan:
"That was an excellent match, well done. I haven't stretched my muscles in a while. Let's spar for a bit if you're up for it."
His tutor beside him sighed, lost in admiration as he watched Osman. "You're nearly skilled enough to defeat me, a sword master, at only ten years old," he thought. "And now you're eager to spar with the boys here, as if you're not even aware of the authority you're establishing for yourself. What a remarkable young man! But this child is talented not only in swordsmanship but also in politics… If only his father, Sultan Ahmed, were as bold and skilled, perhaps the state wouldn't be in this situation now. Thankfully, at least the next sultan will be a prince like Osman… assuming, of course, they don't let 'Mad Mustafa' seize the throne."
Breaking his thoughts, the tutor spoke respectfully, "My Prince, you're not yet even ten, while Hasan is fourteen. Your strengths are unmatched; it wouldn't be fair for you."
Hasan respectfully turned to Osman and said, "If you wish, my prince, I can go easier on you."
Osman replied decisively, "No, come at me with all your strength. When you lose, don't regret it; on the battlefield, you must strike your enemies with full force so that you crush them with a solid blow."
Some of the students watching wondered to themselves, "Is the next candidate for sultan really so spoiled?" Yet, faced with Osman's confident stance and bold words, they felt ashamed and abandoned such thoughts.
Osman picked up his training sword, displaying a warrior's skill beyond his years. Hasan took his position, and the clash began. The initial moves were careful and measured; both of them were testing each other's skills. Soon, however, Osman noticed Hasan was holding back, and he suddenly shouted:
"Didn't I tell you to come at me with everything?"
Following Osman's words, Hasan grew serious, and the strikes became sharper and quicker. They wielded their swords as if dancing, with every student around captivated by Osman's skill. After several moves, Osman executed an unexpected strike, forcing Hasan to withdraw in astonishment; at last, Hasan had to concede defeat, and the match ended.
With Hasan's defeat, all eyes turned to Osman. Instead of showing off his triumph, Osman simply turned, smiling humbly at the gathered students. Taking a deep breath, he spoke with a serious tone:
"I'm very pleased with your training today. Well done, everyone. As long as you work with such determination, our state will grow stronger. Together, we'll push this empire forward."
Osman's words echoed across the courtyard, and a glint of pride appeared in the students' eyes. They felt the prince's faith in them and were inspired by his ambition. Many began to think that, under this young prince's leadership, the Ottoman Empire could indeed regain its former strength.
As Osman's impactful speech lingered, one of the boys, Yusuf, glanced not just at Osman but also gave a mocking look to his tutor. Yusuf had a frail physique, unlike the other boys, but he stood out with his sharp mind. "Is Prince Osman really this clever, or is it the tutor giving him these ideas?" he wondered.
Osman noticed Yusuf's skeptical gaze. Stepping over to him, each step resonating in the stillness, Osman reached out and gently touched Yusuf's shoulder, smiling as if he could read the boy's thoughts.
"It's not what you think," Osman said, with a twinkle in his eye. "But to have noticed even that, you must be very sharp. You'll need to work hard… perhaps one day I might take you by my side."
Blushing, Yusuf looked down and confessed softly, "But my prince, my body isn't as strong as the others." A small hint of embarrassment showed in his eyes, clearly self-conscious about his frail build.
Osman, sensing Yusuf's shyness, replied with a warm smile, "Sometimes, a sharp mind is far more powerful than a sharp sword. Remember, a strong mind is always the greatest weapon."
Yusuf's face brightened with newfound courage, gazing gratefully at Osman. After a final nod, Osman bid farewell to the students and left the Enderun Academy.
As he departed, he overheard a few students whispering among themselves:
"What a wise and skilled prince…"
"When he becomes sultan, it will be good for all of us."
"Someone like him will surely restore the empire to its former glory…"
Hearing these words, a satisfied smile appeared on Osman's face, and with renewed confidence, he continued on his way, leaving the courtyard behind.
I want to take a moment to thank Haydar_Hassoun, Pankaj_Sharma_1099, and DaoistYnQbSm for your incredible support. Your encouragement truly means a lot to me. Knowing that you're behind me makes all the hard work feel worthwhile. Thank you for being a part of this journey and for believing in what I do.