Chapter 106
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: The First Prussian-Habsburg Crisis
-----------------------------------------------------------------
My deliberations didn't last long.
No matter how much I crunched the numbers, with only one body to work with, I had no choice but to prioritize and focus.
Having confirmed that Theresia's capabilities had grown sufficiently, I could boldly dump every field she could handle right into her lap.
Entrusting work to a woman in the final stages of pregnancy?
She's going to be pregnant for at least another ten years or more—what was I supposed to do when she insisted on doing it herself!
It wasn't that I was some trash husband. Theresia kept pushing to work, so for me, assigning her an appropriate workload was the best option.
On the contrary, if I gave her only as much as she could digest, she wouldn't overexert herself and risk her health.
Besides, Theresia didn't seem keen on shipping her kids off abroad en masse like in the old days, so there wasn't much to worry about.
Friedrich suddenly kicking up a fuss about a marriage alliance was unexpected, but I didn't need to take seriously the empty talk from a guy without kids yet.
Anyway, thanks to my capable and enthusiastic wife, my workload had lightened up considerably. Now I could prepare for the era ahead with a clear mind.
Others could afford to be complacent since they had no clue, but I knew better than anyone the massive upheaval on the horizon.
Industrial Revolution.
Those four words alone perfectly captured the era's transformation.
The one and only Industrial Revolution.
The historical turning point that shifted Europe from an agrarian society to an industrial one—the decisive stroke that perfected imperialism.
The Industrial Revolution didn't create imperialism, of course, but it was undeniable that Europe pulled so far ahead of Asia in national power after that period that comparisons were pointless.
No matter how much of a lead we had now, failing to prepare for the coming cataclysm would mean squandering all our current privileges in the blink of an eye.
"Fortunately, we're in a more advantageous position than any other nation in Europe right now."
The artisans seated in the research institute nodded gravely at my explanation, which I'd boiled down as simply as possible for people of this era.
"So, Your Highness predicts that improving the steam engine will bring massive changes to national industry."
"Exactly. Take the new rifles we're developing right now—with an upgraded steam engine, we could churn them out at speeds that make the current pace look like a joke. And it won't stop at rifles; it'll revolutionize nearly every field."
Like all human scientific progress, the steam engine hadn't just appeared out of thin air one day.
Thomas Newcomen's steam engine already existed in this era, with nearly a hundred units installed worldwide.
But the reason it hadn't made real waves?
"But Your Highness, that steam engine is just a massive, inefficient, expensive hunk of junk, isn't it?"
"Yes. I've heard that even similar prototypes ended up being deemed utterly useless."
The current steam engine's performance was downright pathetic.
On top of that, inventor Newcomen guarded his patents fiercely, so other countries were happily trashing the British contraption.
They were whipping up opinion that since it was useless anyway, why pay patent fees to use it?
The man who dramatically improved it was none other than the famous James Watt—and astonishingly, James Watt was already alive in this era.
He was just a little kid for now, but that meant the times were ripe enough.
"As technicians, even if it looks useless now, you have to recognize the value in the concepts it employs. If we make this engine three times more efficient while halving coal consumption or better—could you still call it useless then?"
"Uh..."
"Well..."
"Don't get complacent off our great victory in the recent war. At the very least, anyone working under me needs to use that win as a launchpad to soar even higher. Keep that in mind."
James Watt's improved steam engine was fully feasible with this era's technology.
I could skip the trial-and-error phase and roll out an advanced version right away, accelerating our timeline for proper mass production tech.
With Lorraine secured, iron ore supply was no issue. We'd also confirmed steady access to bituminous coal for engines and pitch coal for coke.
"Our goals from here are twofold: practical deployment of breech-loading rifles and developing the improved steam engine. So, sorry, but..."
They were used to this by now—they could guess the rest without me saying it.
"Overtime for the foreseeable future."
While Prussia and France kept the aggro pulled, we had to surge way ahead!
I was the project lead, after all, and I'd be pulling overtime too—no room for complaints, right?
Take it or leave it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Wars erupting everywhere, noble houses crumbling left and right, the world thrown into chaos.
Shocking headlines broke daily, to the point where most news barely qualified as surprising anymore.
Just days ago, France's Louis XV had declared he'd avoid the Deer Park and faithfully tend to state affairs.
Almost as jaw-dropping as if Theresia announced she was done having kids.
But even that got completely overshadowed by the emperor's announcement of a new Elector.
Ever since Bavaria and Palatinate lost their Elector statuses, every prince in the Empire had been on edge watching this issue.
Appoint someone or not?
And if yes, who?
It was a perfect glimpse into the emperor's intentions—how could they not be on pins and needles?
"The Archbishop of Serbia is hereby appointed the new Elector. The Archbishopric of Serbia, as an Electorate, shall protect the rights of all principalities across the Balkan Peninsula and gather their public opinion. Heed this well."
"...The Archbishop of Serbia as Elector?"
"So this makes four archbishops who are Electors?"
"But the Archbishop of Serbia is Orthodox..."
⚙ IMPERIAL DECREE ⚙ The Archbishop of Serbia is hereby appointed the new Elector. The Archbishopric of Serbia, as an Electorate, shall protect the rights of all principalities across the Balkan Peninsula and gather their public opinion. Heed this well. After the official announcement, the princes racked their brains trying to interpret the emperor's decision.
Existing Electors were at least satisfied that no secular prince had been elevated.
Shifts in precedence among secular princes struck at the pride of Holy Roman nobles.
Soon enough, the princes concluded the emperor had played it smart: showing care for Balkan principalities without riling up the mainland ones.
Needless to say, Balkan public sentiment was through the roof.
"Oooooh! Long live His Majesty the Emperor!"
"This is as good as His Majesty personally declaring no discrimination against us Orthodox faithful!"
"Totally different from those Ottoman bastards who just pay lip service to religious freedom! This is the real deal!"
People are hypersensitive to discrimination.
Even kids at home pick up on parental favoritism toward a sibling—what about in a nation?
The emperor had even directly instructed the Serbian Elector to accommodate other principalities and collect their views.
The new Serbian Elector, graced with this honor, came to Vienna in person and bowed before the emperor.
Pledging loyalty was mere formality—the real point was giving me time for a private audience with him.
"Long time no see, Archduke Franz... but your under-eyes look shadowed. Are you unwell?"
"No, just overdid it lately."
"Ah... I heard you're working hard to protect noble rights. Must be taking its toll. No wonder the nobles' loyalty to Your Highness runs so deep when you go this far for them."
It was a wildly off-base conclusion, but I lacked the energy—or need—to correct it. I just nodded vaguely and took a seat.
"You're busy too, Archbishop, so let's skip the fluff and get to it. What's the mood in the Balkan principalities lately? I hear it's good, but any shady stirrings?"
"It's true some griped about unstable Danube logistics when the French war first erupted. But after Archduchess Theresia's policies for the affected states kicked in, it all dried up."
Hmm, quick thinking as always. Whoever her husband is, the guy's lucky.
"Any bitterness from Bulgaria over not getting the Electorate?"
"I'd be lying to say none at all, but since I—an archbishop—got it, they seem resigned. Another prince, and they'd be stewing inwardly."
"Good. Let me be clear: neither His Majesty nor I will exploit or discriminate against Balkan folk. No persecution for being Orthodox, either."
"I'm simply grateful."
"But the world runs on give and take, right? Nothing grandiose—just lend me the justification to keep pushing policies for your principalities."
To keep the narrative of 'rewarding loyal Balkan states that obey the emperor,' they had to show that loyalty in turn.
Thankfully, the new Elector got the subtext from the real power behind the throne and nodded at once.
Yeah, that's right. Communication is key.
"Going forward, we won't pick unnecessary fights with the Ottomans."
"...Pardon? Then recovering Constantinople..."
Damn, do Orthodox folks have a honey pot stashed in that city or what?
It wasn't even called the City of Longing yet, but to Orthodox bishops, Constantinople might as well have been their one true love.
I got the nostalgia, but going full 'My beloved is the paradise of Constantinople!' put me in a bind.
With our current power gap, reclaiming the city with a little strain was doable—but that'd straight-up collapse the Ottomans.
If the Ottomans fell, Britain would ditch propping them against Russia, letting Russia swallow the Black Sea whole.
We couldn't let that happen. For now, the Ottomans needed to hold the Black Sea.
"Archbishop, we're building invisible strains from back-to-back wars. Regrettably, we need at least five years to dial back major conflicts and shore up our foundations."
"Ah... I see. Three massive wars in a row does add up."
"True, overwhelming victories each time with huge gains. So if we methodically build strength, the fading Ottomans won't catch us."
"I see. Not abandoning Constantinople's recovery—just stockpiling power first, then taking the city..."
"Exactly. The Balkans are Orthodoxy's heart now. Orthodox must reclaim Constantinople. I'll personally return Hagia Sophia—from mosque back to the Lord's house. Have faith and wait."
Of course, I didn't specify when, so no lie there.
Once the Austrian navy sails steamships, we'll have the edge to seize the Black Sea. Worth a shot then?
Assuming a solid pretext, anyway.
"Your Highness truly is the liberator God sent for Orthodoxy! We Balkan faithful will never forget your grace."
"Yes. But don't go public about reclaiming that city—it just alerts the Ottomans or buys them prep time. I'd appreciate holding off on such speeches."
"Understood. Ah, and also..."
Bang!
"Your Highness! Your Highness!"
The Serbian Archbishop froze mid-sentence as the messenger burst in.
Even if it was urgent, this was beyond the pale—barging in on a private chat between the King of Germany and an Elector?
"What is this rudeness? I said it was an important guest and vital talk."
"Your Highness! You must see this..."
Interrupting me and shoving paper in my face... come on.
What the hell had happened to warrant this? Now I was getting anxious.
Praying it was overblown hysteria, I took the note from the messenger.
🚨 URGENT DISPATCH 🚨 [Prussian forces clash with Dutch army. Confirmed: Prussia has crossed the border.]
Ah...
It was worth bursting in for. Totally valid... which only made my headache worse.
Friedrich, you absolute runaway train with busted brakes.
I said put on a WWE show, not actually smash the other guy with a real weapon.
I never said I'd cover the medical bills!
```