Just a few minutes ago, the Supreme Command conference room in Dresden was dead silent, everyone acting like prisoners awaiting a verdict.
But now, while no one dared to cheer loudly, the heavy weight pressing on their chests had largely dissipated.
These high-ranking officials of the Saxon Empire had realized that the failed coup in Vienna today brought more than just bad news.
Instead, it seemed to offer them an opportunity to intervene in the internal affairs of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, binding the latter even tighter to their war chariot.
Meanwhile, more news arrived successively via telegraph lines.
“It seems our Colonel Morin has more than just good luck.”
Moltke the Younger held a freshly decoded telegram, a fascinating expression on his face.
“There are indeed shadows of the Britannians behind this coup, and they even discovered the enemy’s new-type Armored Knights at the scene… Hmph, though one of them was destroyed by the instruction unit.”
Falkenhayn, sitting beside Moltke, also snorted in dissatisfaction: “The Britannians are overreaching in their attempt to break the deadlock… But they’ve shot themselves in the foot this time. Not only did they fail the coup, they’ve given us an opportunity.”
“Not only that, gentlemen.”
Major Nicolai, temporarily pulled in for the meeting, added: “According to Colonel Morin’s detailed report, the main force of the coup was Bohemian radical groups, but there seems to be deeper involvement… The Austro-Hungarian Crown Prince, the young Archduke Karl, had multiple secret contacts with certain radical deputies on the eve of the coup.”
A Crown Prince making contact with radical separatists while the country is at war—in any nation, that is treason.
“Young, naive!”
Albert II, sitting at the head, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, offering his assessment of the young Austro-Hungarian Crown Prince.
“Wanting peace is a good thing, but pinning hopes on the mercy of the enemy and domestic separatists at a juncture like this is simply foolish.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Since the situation in Vienna is under control, what about the emergency assembly of the Eastern Reserve Army Group…” Chief of Staff Moltke asked tentatively.
“No need to execute it.”
Albert II waved his hand, then smiled as if recalling something amusing: “Since Colonel Morin has snuffed out the fire in its incipient stage, there’s no need to make a big fuss…”
“Assembling reserve forces in the border regions now would only provoke our ally’s sensitive nerves, making them think we’re taking advantage of the situation.”
This impromptu emergency meeting quickly drew to a close.
Since the greatest crisis had been averted, there was no need for the Supreme Command to linger. They still had a mountain of messes to handle, from the final signing date of the Gallic treaty to troop deployments on the front lines.
“Gentlemen… although we don’t need to deploy troops, the General Staff must still prepare contingency plans.”
Albert II added as everyone stood up.
“The Austro-Hungarian Empire is currently a powder keg. None of us know how long the mad old Emperor can last, nor what other nonsense the naive Crown Prince will stir up… So I expect you to be ready at all times to ‘help our ally stabilize the situation.'”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
Everyone responded in unison, then filed out of the room.
Soon, only two people remained in the spacious conference room.
Albert II, and Imperial Chancellor Hollweg.
An attendant came in, swapped a pot of hot coffee, and quietly retreated, closing the door behind him.
Albert II didn’t speak immediately. He drew a finely crafted cigar from a silver case and leisurely trimmed it with a cutter.
Snip.
The crisp cutting sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.
Hollweg sat below, quietly observing the Emperor’s actions. Having served this monarch for years, he was all too familiar with this routine.
If the Emperor threw the cigar on the table, it was anger; If he held it in his mouth unlit, it was anxiety; But if he patiently trimmed, toasted, and lit it like now, it meant the Emperor was pondering a major move— A major move still in the conceptual stage, but significant enough to alter the Empire’s course.
The Emperor likely had an undecided idea again… Keeping him behind indicated the idea was still in its early stages.
Because if the idea had reached the implementation stage, the people kept behind wouldn’t just be him, but the relevant personnel involved in execution.
For instance, if he intended to “reason” with other countries, the State Secretary for Foreign Affairs would be kept.
If the Emperor didn’t plan on “reasoning,” the Chiefs of Staff and Ministers of the various military branches would remain.
Combining the information received all morning with the Emperor’s micro-expressions during the meeting, Hollweg had roughly guessed the reasons.
The blue-gray smoke curled upwards, obscuring Albert II’s face.
“Hollweg,” the Emperor finally spoke. “Do you think a mad Austro-Hungarian Emperor is a good thing or a bad thing for us?”
Hearing this question, the Imperial Chancellor knew the main event had arrived.
He chose his words carefully and answered cautiously: “From an ally’s perspective, it is undoubtedly a tragedy! A massive empire losing its rational helmsman is liable to hit the rocks and sink, but…”
He paused, looking up at the Emperor.
“From the perspective of the Saxon Empire’s interests, this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Oh?”
Albert II raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.
Hollweg nodded, continuing his analysis: “Franz Joseph I has been on the throne for too long. His prestige and authority are sufficient to suppress all dissenting voices within the Empire, but it also makes it very difficult for us to interfere in their internal affairs.”
“But now he is mad… A deranged Emperor cannot exercise power, and a power vacuum will inevitably lead to a scramble among various factions.”
Hearing this, Albert II sneered: “The Hungarians definitely won’t pass up this chance. That bunch of Magyar nobles in Budapest have long wanted to split the double-headed eagle into two single-headed chickens…”
Hollweg: “Exactly, Your Majesty! More importantly, if a major problem occurs in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, our southeastern flank will be completely exposed. Therefore, we must consider intervention!”
Albert II took a deep drag of his cigar, blowing out a long stream of smoke rings.
“Intervention… is a good word.”
He leaned back, staring at the exquisite fresco on the ceiling.
“Before, if we wanted to intervene, it would be considered interfering in internal affairs and would cause a backlash… But now their Emperor is mad, their Crown Prince is suspected of treason… As their closest ally, shouldn’t we lend a helping hand to ‘uphold justice’ for them?”
Hollweg’s heart rate began to accelerate; he understood the Emperor’s subtext.
This wasn’t upholding justice; this was clearly aiming to tie the Austro-Hungarian Empire completely to Saxony’s war chariot, perhaps even… turning it into a Saxon vassal.
“Your Majesty, are you suggesting…” Hollweg probed, “Starting from the aspect of royal bloodlines?”
Albert II turned his head, looking at his Chancellor with a meaningful smile.
“Hollweg, I was right to keep you here.”
The Emperor stood up, walked to the massive map of Europa at the end of the room, and lightly swept his gaze over the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s territory.
“If Franz Joseph I is truly incapacitated, then Archduke Karl should succeed to the throne.”
At this point, Albert II’s eyes turned cold.
“But this little nephew of mine is too disobedient… He wants to play the angel of peace, wants federalism, wants to draw a clear line with us! If he secures the throne, we might be backstabbed by our ally before we even defeat the enemy.”
Hollweg nodded in agreement.
“Therefore, Archduke Karl cannot remain… more accurately, he cannot be allowed to hold actual power.”
“But Your Majesty, Archduke Karl is the statutory heir after all, and he possesses a certain amount of prestige among the Austro-Hungarian populace and the lower ranks of the military.”
Hollweg voiced his concerns.
“If we forcibly intervene to depose him, it might cause a backlash, and might even be exploited by the Britannians.”
“Who said anything about forcible deposition?”
Albert II turned around, wearing a fox-like smile.
He walked back to the table, crushing the cigar into the ashtray.
“Hollweg, don’t forget… Karl’s mother is my biological sister.”
Maria Josepha of Saxony.
The name flashed quickly through Hollweg’s mind, along with the image of the Saxon Princess who had married far away to Vienna.
It was a typical political marriage.
After the Saxon-Austrian conflict years ago, the Saxon Empire took the initiative to attempt an intermarriage with the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
However, the Habsburg royal family arrogantly rejected the proposed marriage for Maria Josepha’s older sister at the time, causing relations between the two countries to freeze.
Later, to mend relations, the marriage between Maria Josepha and Archduke Otto Franz took place.
And Archduke Otto Franz was a notoriously philandering playboy.
In this regard, even Morin’s predecessor would have to bow in defeat.
After all, no matter what, Morin couldn’t pull off “performance art” like jumping naked out a window in a private dining room at the Hotel Sacher in Vienna, right in front of a visiting Britannian noblewoman.
This philandering Archduke ultimately died early from syphilis.
But Maria Josepha, relying on the support of the Saxon royal family and her own shrewdness, established a firm foothold within the Habsburg family.
More importantly, she was a very devout and traditional woman, with a natural affinity for her motherland, Saxony.
“Archduke Karl is Maria’s son, this is true…”
Albert II sat back down, tapping the armrest rhythmically with his fingers.
“But she doesn’t only have Karl as a son.”
Hollweg’s eyes lit up, instantly grasping the crux of the issue.
“You mean… Archduke Maximilian Eugen?”
“Exactly.”
Albert II nodded, a satisfied curve appearing at the corner of his mouth: “Seventeen years old this year, not yet of age, mild-mannered, obedient. And most importantly… he grew up by his mother’s side and is deeply influenced by Saxon culture.”
Hollweg’s brain kicked into high gear, a clear chain of political operations forming in his mind.
“If we can prove that Archduke Karl played a dishonorable role in this coup…”
The Imperial Chancellor couldn’t help but lower his voice, though a hint of excitement seeped through: “For example, that in order to seize power, he colluded with Czech radicals, and even tacitly approved of the house arrest and intimidation of the old Emperor…”
“We don’t need to prove it.”
Albert II waved his hand, interrupting the Chancellor.
“Didn’t Colonel Morin’s report state it? Karl had contact with the coup forces… That is enough! As for the rest, the ‘Loyalists’ within the Austro-Hungarian Empire will naturally dig deeper and make associations.”
“As long as this dirty water is splashed on him, no matter how clean he washes it, he loses the basis of legitimacy for his succession.”
“At least the military faction… such as hardliners like Conrad, will absolutely not accept a ‘treasonous’ Emperor.”
Listening to Albert II, the more Hollweg thought about it, the more feasible it seemed.
Conrad now owed Saxony a massive favor, and his relationship with Archduke Karl was already like fire and water due to their differing attitudes toward the war.
With just a slight hint from Saxony, this Army Chief of Staff would absolutely become the vanguard in toppling Karl.
“Once Karl loses power, the right of succession to the throne will pass to Archduke Maximilian,” Hollweg continued deductive reasoning. “But he is still a minor…”
“Being a minor is excellent.”
Albert II smiled even more brightly.
“A minor Emperor requires a ‘Regent’… And who is more suitable than his mother, my biological sister Maria?”
“A Regent Princess from Saxony, a pro-Saxon young Emperor, plus the troops we’ve been successively transferring into Austro-Hungarian territory recently…”
Albert II, who had suffered from ADHD since childhood, didn’t sit in his chair for long. While speaking, he stood up again, walked to the window, and pushed it open.
A gust of cold wind rushed in, clearing the smoke from the room and bracing his spirits.
“Hollweg, do you know what this means?”
Hollweg walked up behind the Emperor, looking out at the sprawling palace complex, his voice trembling slightly: “It means… we have a chance to turn the Austro-Hungarian Empire completely into a subordinate…”
“No, no, no, no… Not just a subordinate.”
Albert II turned around, staring burningly at his Chancellor, his eyes blazing with the fire of ambition.
“Think about it. If we achieve comprehensive economic, military, and diplomatic integration… then that dream from back then, the dream strangled by the ‘Kleindeutschland (Lesser Germany) Solution’…”
“Greater Saxony…”
Hollweg felt his throat go dry in that instant.
The Greater Saxony (Großdeutschland) Plan. That was the grandest blueprint in the hearts of all 19th-century Saxon nationalists.
Uniting all Saxon-speaking regions, including Austria, under one banner.
But back then, due to various practical reasons, this plan lost to the “Lesser Saxony Solution”—of course, the territory the Saxon Empire gained from this so-called “Lesser Saxony Solution” far exceeded that of the Second Reich in the other world.
And now, with the decline of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and this sudden upheaval, this ghost that had slumbered for half a century seemed to have a chance of resurrection.
If he, Hollweg, could facilitate this great enterprise with his own hands…
Then he would no longer be a clumsy imitator merely following in Bismarck’s footsteps.
He would become an existence rivaling that “Iron Chancellor,” becoming one of the greatest politicians in Imperial history!
“This requires extremely delicate maneuvering, Your Majesty.”
Hollweg took a deep breath, suppressing his inner excitement and restoring his rationality.
“We cannot act too boldly, otherwise it will absolutely invite intervention from other countries, and might even spark resistance within Austro-Hungary.”
“That is exactly why I kept you here.”
Albert II glanced at the Chancellor he had personally appointed.
“Diplomatic rhetoric, political co-optation, and how to utilize that mad old Emperor… these are your specialties.”
“By the way, send a telegram to the Crown Prince… It’s time for him to pay his aunt a visit.”
Meanwhile, these high-level officials of the Saxon Empire weren’t the only ones experiencing emotional roller coasters due to the news arriving successively from the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Major Sakasi of the Austro-Hungarian Army, responsible for coordinating military train transports with the Saxon military, was also riding the “roller coaster of life” right now.
He was currently staying in the hotel where the Austro-Hungarian officer delegation was lodged. However, the curtains in his room were tightly drawn, making the room as dark as a cellar, and several empty liquor bottles littered the floor.
Major Sakasi slumped in his chair, two buttons of his uniform undone. His usually meticulous hair was now messy as a bird’s nest.
He clutched a telegram from a day ago in his hand, his eyes as hollow as a dead fish’s.
“It’s over… It’s all over…” he muttered to himself.
Two days ago, upon his suggestion, Morin led the regimental headquarters aboard the Austro-Hungarian military train. Soon after entering Austro-Hungarian territory, it experienced three mechanical failures.
While handling these three mechanical failures, the train crew also had people find telegraph stations deployed along the railway line, asking them to synchronize the information with Dresden and Vienna for dispatch convenience.
When Major Sakasi received the telegram for the third time and discovered that the station sending the telegram was on the railway heading towards Vienna, he realized something was terribly wrong.
Despite his repeated warnings and exhortations, it seemed this military train still headed to Vienna according to the original plan.
This Austro-Hungarian Army Major immediately felt his life had entered a countdown.
That was a f*cking military train supposed to go to the front lines! It carried elite allied troops going to provide support!
And it ended up sent to the capital?
What is this called?
This is severe dereliction of duty! This is the unauthorized transfer of allied troops into the capital!
If taken a step further, it could even be interpreted as a military mobilization coordinating with some conspiracy.
Major Sakasi could already visualize the tribunal of the military court, and the dark muzzles of the firing squad.
Since yesterday, he had hidden in his hotel room, cutting off contact with the outside world, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, waiting for the verdict of fate.
“Major! Major!”
A frantic pounding on the door shattered the deathly silence in the room.
Sakasi shuddered all over, almost sliding off his chair.
Is it here? Are they finally here to arrest me?
“Major! It’s me! Leitner!” His adjutant’s familiar voice came from outside, sounding exceptionally anxious.
Sakasi swallowed hard, forcing his weak legs to support him as he shuffled to the door and tremblingly opened it.
“What’s wrong? Did… did the arrest warrant from above come down?” Sakasi asked, his face ashen.
“What arrest warrant?”
Lieutenant Leitner was taken aback, then excitedly waved a piece of notepad paper with some hand-copied content.
“Major! Don’t you know? Something huge happened! Monumental!”
“I knew it…”
Sakasi’s vision went dark; he grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling.
“I knew this couldn’t be kept hidden…”
“Keep what hidden?”
Leitner looked utterly bewildered, then grabbed Sakasi by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.
“Sir! A coup happened in Vienna! But it was suppressed! Suppressed by Colonel Morin, whom you sent over!”
“Ah?”
Sakasi’s brain crashed for two seconds.
“What did you say? Coup?”
“Yes!”
Lieutenant Leitner was so excited his face was red. He felt like he was meeting Major Sakasi for the first time.
“An armed coup occurred in Vienna this morning. The General Staff and the Royal Palace were both occupied!”
“At this critical juncture, Colonel Morin descended like a god from heaven with elite troops! Like an angel sent by God to protect the Habsburgs, he stormed the palace directly, rescued His Majesty the Emperor, and annihilated the coup forces!”
Leitner shoved the notepad paper into Major Sakasi’s arms: “This is a broadcast telegram sent from Vienna that I just copied down! Now all of Dresden knows! This Colonel Morin has become the hero who saved the Austro-Hungarian Empire!”
Sakasi stared blankly at the notepad paper in his hands. He recognized every word on it, but strung together, they made him feel like he was reading a mythical tale.
A mistakenly routed military train… happened to catch a coup… and then conveniently suppressed it?
This… this works too?
Sakasi felt his heart being violently squeezed by an invisible hand, then abruptly released.
The vertigo of instantly ascending from hell to heaven made him lean against the wall, gasping for air.
A few seconds later, the rusted gears in his brain began turning furiously.
Wait.
If Colonel Morin became a hero…
Then what about the person who sent Colonel Morin to Vienna?
That “erroneous” dispatch order, didn’t it now become…
Sakasi abruptly raised his head, an astonishing brilliance instantly erupting in his previously dead-fish eyes.
He shoved Leitner aside and rushed into the washroom.
Splash!
Cold water splashed on his face, washing away two days of decadence and grease.
Sakasi looked at himself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and straightened his back.
With utmost speed, he buttoned his uniform, smoothed out the wrinkles, and used wet fingers to comb his messy hair until it was slick and shining.
When he stepped out of the washroom again, the decadent loser had vanished.
Replacing him was a strategizing, far-sighted Austro-Hungarian Major.
“Lieutenant Leitner.”
Major Sakasi walked up to his dumbfounded adjutant, his tone becoming deep and magnetic, an unfathomable smile on his face.
“S… sir?”
“Did you also think previously that it was merely a dispatch error?”
As Major Sakasi spoke, he walked to the window and pulled open the heavy curtains.
Blinding sunlight instantly flooded the room, dispelling all the gloom.
“Ah?” Leitner’s mouth dropped open. “Wasn’t it? Weren’t you just saying two days ago…”
“That was acting! Idiot!”
Major Sakasi turned around, looking at his adjutant with the exasperated gaze of one whose expectations had not been met.
“How could such a top-secret operation be allowed to be seen through by others? The more panicked I appeared, the more I could conceal the true intent of this deployment!”
“True intent?” Leitner felt his brain couldn’t process this.
“I actually knew all along that the situation in Vienna was unstable…”
Lieutenant Leitner: “Wait, when did you know?”
“That’s not important!”
Sakasi paced the room with his hands behind his back.
“I had long foreseen that those separatists were going to cause trouble! But my rank is low and my words carry little weight; if I reported it directly, no one would believe me!”
He stopped pacing, staring at Leitner with blazing eyes: “So… I could only take a massive risk! Using this transfer opportunity, I sent Colonel Morin’s most elite unit to Vienna under the guise of an ‘error’! It was precisely to deal a fatal blow to those separatists at the critical moment!”
“So this is the ‘political investment’ you spoke of?! My God, I thought you meant investing in Colonel Morin back then!”
Leitner gasped. All his doubts were instantly swept away, and the adoration in his eyes practically overflowed.
“So you had planned all this long ago? My God, sir, you are simply… a master of anticipation!”
“Keep a low profile, keep it low profile…”
“High profile! High profile! We must let everyone know of your far-sightedness!”
Major Sakasi waved his hand, but the corners of his mouth couldn’t be kept from rising.
“This is all for the Empire, for His Majesty! Although the process was a bit thrilling, the result is good… isn’t it?”
Saying so, he walked to the table, picked up the unfinished bottle of brandy, poured a glass for himself and his adjutant, and raised his glass toward the direction of Vienna.
“To Colonel Morin.”
“To the Empire!”
The two downed their drinks, and Major Sakasi added a silent toast in his heart.
And to myself, and this damn good luck!