Episode 103
Tekish, having boldly declared his intentions to the Eastern Roman Empire, was half-drunk on his own audacity.
Things he once couldn’t even dream of had now become reality.
A dozen years ago, anyone claiming that Khwarezm would become the dominant power in the Eastern Islamic world would have been dismissed as insane.
But now, look at the situation.
The Western Xia were wary, the Ayyubids were courting favor, and the Eastern Romans were in a panic.
Khwarezm was no longer the peripheral state it once was.
It was a monumental shift that swelled the heart with pride.
In truth, the letter sent to the Eastern Romans was, in some ways, a diplomatic faux pas of the highest order.
Many officials had expressed concerns that it would come across as too arrogant.
Yet, the reason it was pushed through was because the Sultan’s resolve was unshakeable.
“What if they find it arrogant? There’s nothing the Eastern Romans can actually do.”
In the harsh world of international relations, the most important thing is a nation’s power.
Without power, no matter how unjust the situation, a small nation can only suffer in silence under the tyranny of the strong.
And currently, Khwarezm was the strong one, while the Eastern Romans were weak.
Tekish couldn’t hide his excitement, feeling as if he already had the world at his feet, even though all he had done was send a single letter.
“Any news from the Eastern Romans?”
“They keep repeating that Anatolia has been their territory since Roman times and that Khwarezm’s claim that it’s Seljuk land is factually incorrect.”
Al-Sid, who played a key role in the Sultan’s territorial expansion, continued calmly.
“We’ve received confirmation from the Ayyubids that while they can’t send troops if war breaks out, they will assist with supplies.”
“Good, good. Everything is going so smoothly, it’s almost frightening. How about the Western Xia?”
“Proceeding step by step as planned.”
“And we’ve told the Mongols that if they attack the Western Xia, we’ll support them at the right moment?”
“Of course.”
Tekish closed his eyes and slowly reviewed the current situation.
It was a moment of swelling pride, but the smoother things go, the easier it is to stumble.
“Let’s go over it again. We can’t afford to miss anything.”
The relationship with the Eastern Romans was now beyond repair.
The die had been cast, and there was no avoiding the outcome.
War with them was now a given, so it was crucial to secure the rear.
The capital relocation was proceeding smoothly, and they had secured the Ayyubids’ support.
In other words, the northern front was secure.
That left the east, where Tekish had invested the most effort.
“The key is to discreetly leak information to the Mongols when they push into the Western Xia. If the Mongols catch on, it could become troublesome, so it must be done secretly.”
“We’re preparing thoroughly. The Western Xia have repeatedly stated they don’t wish to antagonize us, so there shouldn’t be any issues.”
Of course.
Unless it was the Khitan Liao dynasty in its prime, how could the defeated remnants pushed westward handle the current Khwarezm?
The Western Xia were likely racking their brains over how to contain Khwarezm’s terrifying expansion.
Tekish seized this opportunity to send envoys to the Western Xia.
“We don’t wish to oppose the Xia. Let’s acknowledge each other’s borders and avoid conflict. As proof, Khwarezm will move its capital westward and will not shy away from mutual cooperation.”
With such sweet words, the Western Xia welcomed the proposal with open arms.
They praised the wise and enlightened decision of the Sultan.
If the Mongols questioned why they were backing out, they could simply say it was a ruse to deceive the Western Xia.
“By the way, what are the Mongols up to now? Didn’t they boast that they would soon unify the steppes?”
“Surprisingly, it wasn’t just bluster. There are hardly any major forces left to oppose Temujin on the steppes. Only Buyruk Khan of the Naiman remains, but his forces won’t hold out for long.”
“Fast… faster than we anticipated.”
“Isn’t it dangerous…?”
When setting deadlines, it’s common to overestimate, but these people defy all logic.
How is it that every time they go to war, the actual duration is shortened by several months?
Initially, Tekish had scoffed at Al-Sid’s alarm, but now he was beginning to sense the gravity of the situation.
Of course, he wasn’t frightened or overly intimidated.
A slight adjustment in strategy would suffice.
“I acknowledge that the Mongols are stronger than expected. That’s why we’re cozying up to the Western Xia.”
“Yes, I think it’s a brilliant strategy. They won’t suspect your intentions, Your Majesty.”
“Of course not. The Western Xia might not, but the Mongols are barbarians unfamiliar with civilization. They might be good with their bodies, but they can’t match the civilized in intellect.”
Tekish’s plan was as follows:
First, pretend to be friendly with the Western Xia to put them at ease.
By moving the large army concentrated in the east to the north, the Western Xia would come to trust them.
The Western Xia were already uneasy about the Mongols rapidly expanding right next to them.
They wouldn’t foolishly antagonize Khwarezm.
Then, they would incite the Mongols to attack the Western Xia.
Having promised the Mongols that they would support them if they attacked the Western Xia, the Mongols would likely trust them and boldly start a war.
Initially, Tekish had planned to do just that.
By attacking from both sides with the Mongols, they could swallow the Western Xia with minimal bloodshed.
However, witnessing Temujin’s astonishingly rapid rise in power, he decided to tweak the strategy.
When the Mongols attacked the Western Xia, they would discreetly inform the Western Xia of the Mongols’ movements.
What would happen then?
The Western Xia and the Mongols would tear each other apart, depleting their national strengths.
“Whoever wins will be left in tatters.”
“Exactly. And by the time their war concludes, Khwarezm will have secured most of Anatolia, making the timing perfect.”
Once they extracted a hefty indemnity from the Eastern Romans, raising another army wouldn’t be difficult.
“Whoever wins, we’ll crush the tattered Western Xia or Mongols, and that will be the end of it. We’ll have subdued both the north and the east.”
“Then, no ruler in the world will compare to Your Majesty’s grandeur.”
A super-empire stretching from Persia to Anatolia, the Caspian Sea, the Western Xia, and the Mongolian steppes.
Even the Seljuk Empire of the past hadn’t ruled such vast lands.
“As soon as the capital relocation is complete, we’ll declare war on the Eastern Romans. Coordinate the schedule with the Mongols as well.”
“Yes. How should we respond to the Eastern Romans’ protests?”
“Tell them that their claim to be the heirs of Rome is baseless, as their roots lie in Greece, not Rome. Therefore, their claim to Anatolia is unfounded. They should quietly protect the Greek territories inherited from their ancestors. We’ll acknowledge that Greece is theirs.”
While it was somewhat accepted that the Eastern Romans were the heirs of Rome, Tekish had no intention of acknowledging it.
The name Rome was a symbolic title for the strongest nation of the time, the leading nation of the world.
The self-proclaimed Eastern Romans didn’t deserve it.
If any nation deserved to bear that name, it would likely be Khwarezm under his leadership.
Though they might be lacking now, in a few years, this ambition would become reality.
Until the day Tekish, the Sultan of Khwarezm, stood as the greatest ruler in Islamic history.
Just one more step remained.
While Marshal observed the union of the Catholic and Orthodox churches in Constantinople, and Tekish fanned the flames of ambition in Khwarezm, Temujin finally subdued the northern tribes of the Mongolian steppes, putting an end to the long-standing division of the Mongols.
With the emergence of an unprecedentedly large power, Temujin held a historic Kurultai at the lower reaches of the Onon River.
The great chieftains who swore allegiance to Temujin accepted that it was time for the Mongols to unite under a single, absolute ruler.
“Should the true ruler of the Mongols continue to use the same title as before?”
“Indeed. Even the title of Khan falls short of encompassing the great achievements of our lord.”
“Absolutely! A title greater than Khan, a true Khan, should be used.”
“The idea of a title greater than Khan sounds good. I’ve heard that in the west, they call a king ‘Shah,’ and an emperor, greater than a king, is called ‘Shahanshah,’ or king of kings. Let’s find a fitting name for our Khan.”
“Well… there’s no need to go that far.”
Though he said that, Temujin was secretly eager, paying close attention to his subordinates’ conversation.
Despite having achieved the great feat of unifying the steppes, it hadn’t quite sunk in yet.
It hadn’t quite sunk in.
Looking back, it seemed like a stroke of luck, with everything falling into place at just the right time.
Without the support from Khwarezm when it was most desperately needed, the unification war might not have concluded so swiftly.
Perhaps that’s why it still doesn’t feel like the war is truly over.
Maybe it’s because I know that the battles so far were merely the prelude, and that far greater conflicts lie ahead.
As I tried to calm my racing thoughts, Munlik’s son, Kukuchu, suddenly stood up and launched into a passionate speech.
“While the title ‘Khan of Khans’ sounds impressive, we shouldn’t be overly concerned with Western titles. Instead, we should create a name that’s uniquely ours, a title that only we can use.
A great ruler who has united the steppes! I propose we call Temujin Khan ‘Genghis Khan,’ a name that signifies the ruler of the world and the lord of the four seas!”
The response was immediate and enthusiastic, with voices rising in agreement, chanting the name of the new ruler of Mongolia, echoing along the banks of the Onon River.
“Genghis Khan! Genghis Khan!”
“The new master of the steppes!”
Though Temujin had claimed the vast steppes, neither he nor his followers were satisfied.
The Great Mongol State.
The nascent Mongol Empire was only at the beginning of its journey.
Even if mountains of corpses were piled high and rivers of blood flowed, nothing could stop them now.
Genghis Khan, who united the still-hungry descendants of the Blue Wolf.
Temujin, the Great Khan of the Mongol Empire, was only twenty-seven years old.