Chapter 107
Chapter 107
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: First Prussian-Dutch Crisis (2)
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While Franz was racking his brains in Austria to gleefully empty the nobles' pockets,
Prussia was getting thoroughly drunk on its skyrocketing national power day by day.
"This is what a great power is! This is what a military powerhouse is!"
"Kahahaha! As expected of Your Majesty Friedrich. To take Bavaria and northern Palatinate without lifting a finger."
"Even if it's just a portion, to gain without shedding a drop of blood—doesn't that prove just how much stronger Prussia's standing has become?"
The Junkers were ecstatic. Every piece of news these days stimulated their national pride nonstop, flooding them with dopamine.
Prussia was an absolute monarchy, but the Junkers prided themselves as the core of the state.
The king might hold the military and personnel authority tight, but over seventy percent of the officer corps was made up of Junkers.
With most local administration and taxation in their hands too, Prussia's massive gears couldn't turn without the oil of the Junkers.
That was why the king wielded his full authority without unnecessarily provoking them.
And the Junkers acknowledged the king's prestige and power to the utmost, maintaining a balanced relationship that kept the nation running.
Ever since Friedrich ascended the throne, these Junkers had been basking in unparalleled satisfaction and sense of efficacy.
"His Majesty said he's deploying Franz rifles across the entire army this time, right?"
"I heard nearly 15,000 will be distributed by the end of this month."
"15,000? How so quickly?"
"All the new production from Austria is being allocated here."
"Kuuh~! As expected of our king. His negotiation skills are on another level."
Lately, even regimental officers' mess halls and smoke breaks were buzzing more than ever.
Even general-level officers gathered in excited clusters for meetings, while colonels and below formed little groups to revel in the military's surging might.
"His Majesty's pressuring the Netherlands—anyone heard what he plans to do?"
"General Zieten said he seems serious about real threats."
"General Heinrich! Is that true?"
Majors general rarely smoked with field-grade officers, but since Friedrich became king, several young generals had risen.
Many still hung out with old academy buddies, so information spread lightning-fast.
"Can't say details. But isn't the reality you're seeing proof enough?"
"Ooooh!"
"Just between us... how high do you rate the chance of war breaking out, General?"
"Hmm, and you? What do you think?"
"One hundred percent, of course! We need to do it!"
The young Junkers—the military's backbone—already had their hearts on the battlefield, not Berlin.
And even the generals were no exception.
"This isn't official military opinion, just my personal hunch... but yeah, probably. Honestly, no one's scared of starting a war right now."
"Ooooh!"
"Look at those pathetic Dutch. They're shrinking back from our training alone, screaming everywhere for help."
This was the true face of the military great power the old king had dreamed of!
In truth, the Junkers had long harbored an inferiority complex toward nobles living lavish lives like the French.
French aristocrats, immersed in art, philosophy, and high society, subtly looked down on Junkers as country bumpkins—and the Junkers knew it.
Even calling themselves practical men brought only sneers of "mental victory."
Truth was, not doing something and being unable to were different, so the French mockery wasn't entirely wrong.
But everything changed when Friedrich took the throne.
He smashed France,
Bavaria and Saxony trembled at Prussia's glance,
And weak Dutch merchants desperately sought Britain or France at Prussia's mere shout.
Friedrich had turned the Junkers' romantic dreams into reality.
"Armed Austria trampled France in six weeks with Franz rifles, right? No reason we can't do the same."
"Of course. Even with just 15,000, the Netherlands is way weaker than France."
"If we seize Dutch land... merits will be rewarded fairly to those who earn them, yeah?"
"Naturally. Always has been."
The Junkers' enthusiastic support for expansion was simple.
Land-based as they were, Prussia granted victors rights to buy portions of newly acquired territory.
Sure, only a few Junkers got such perks, but war meant booming grain demand.
Higher military influence meant selling grain dearer, plus chances to expand land—it was a triple win.
No defeat risk; Prussian confidence soared to the heavens.
King Friedrich was heaven-sent strategist, bolstering forces with Austrian modern weapons.
At this point, opposition was nil—most prayed for war to erupt.
Friedrich knew the mood well.
"...So, border reserves are already organized?"
"Precisely, preparations for organization are complete. Moving troops is Your Majesty's prerogative—how could we act first? A single order, and central and local forces will respond in full."
"Wartime budget needs separate allocation for stable grain."
"Landlords are signing up to prepay six months' grain and horse fodder!"
Truthfully, Friedrich initially planned just to scare the Dutch and pull back.
But how to put it? Things were getting fun.
France was comatose, the Empire busy with rebel aftermath, even Britain tangled in Spain—no eyes spare.
Perfect timing for action, anyone could see.
Prolonged war might draw mediation, but Prussia now had Austria's Franz rifles.
18th-century spirit: get superior weapon, wanna swing it.
Friedrich eyed the Dutch like easy cake.
"But my deal with Prince Franz was just to create tension."
"Your Majesty, did Prince Franz say to avoid actual clashes?"
"He didn't... say that."
"Then no issue?"
Indeed, no issue.
Nay, actual clash would heighten tension, draw more eyes.
Of course, mindless brawling wasn't internationally kosher just 'cause you're strong.
But Junkers listed 101 reasons to smack the Dutch, ranting passionately.
"The Dutch constantly obstruct our Rhine logistics and customs union. Not openly now, but we've caught trade interference multiple times."
Indirect checks were natural, but anyway, Dutch at fault.
"And?"
"We've repeatedly sought trade ties, but they keep making excuses to refuse."
Not accepting bad terms was their right, but weak merchants daring ignore us? Infuriating.
"Conclusion reached. They're fortifying against our drills anyway—provoke clash. If our side takes hits, use as pretext to attack."
No need to push to capital.
Just cement hierarchy this time for future negotiations.
'Prince Franz, I'll honor the deal. Treat you later.'
Bluntly, blame Franz for making killer weapons igniting Junker hearts—not his fault.
A man of loyalty, Friedrich targeted the Dutch. To keep his word.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I admit it. My thinking was shortsighted.
Bluntly, Friedrich was always the first-strike incarnate.
First Silesian War, Second Silesian War.
Even the Seven Years' War—all started with Friedrich striking first.
This guy was punch-first personified from the start.
Diplomacy this, international affairs that—too dull and pedantic.
Hit first, see what happens: clear, simple.
And I gave him the ultimate magic sword, the Franz rifle. How could that berserker resist swinging it?
Human nature: get magic sword, wanna claim dad's throne; seize space colony, wanna drop on Earth.
Friedrich just faithfully followed the German itch to cross borders when powered up.
But that's that, this is this.
"Ambassador, how should I interpret this situation?"
"Hahaha... Y-yes, indeed. I just got word yesterday myself..."
"So it was an impulsive attack."
"Likely? Prussia's army was just peacefully training, clashed with Dutch guards—an accident. Can't predict accidents."
"No separate message from His Majesty Friedrich for me?"
Prussian ambassador Kaspar Wilhelm von Borg desperately wiped sweat, shaking his head.
His reaction said he knew nothing—tough job.
No message for me either? Interpreted "draw aggro" as "go to war"?
21st-century ethics tainting me, or Prussian norms off-spec?
Either way, dice thrown. Prussia crossed border—not ending as mere crisis.
"Will Prussia war with the Netherlands? Even so, no casus belli."
"Hmm... His Majesty long criticized Dutch trade sabotage curbing Prussia's growth. Louis XIV invaded for similar reasons, no? From that view, we have ample justification."
"Neighbors won't sit idle."
"I truly just learned yesterday... Any words for His Majesty, Your Highness? I'll relay ASAP."
Yelling "I know nothing, spare me" changes zilch.
I sighed deep, said I'd convey Austria's stance by today, and rose.
Friedrich, you bastard—war's your call, but warn ahead so I prepare.
Full-throttle brainstorming as I exited—Theresa, nearing birth, awaited.
"No, what're you doing here? If baby comes early?"
"Incident broke. Too curious to bear."
She eyed me prickly, like pride hurt, shaking head.
"I thought I'd grown a lot... still miles to go."
What random talk? She'd proven herself trustworthy fully.
"Why sudden? Mistake?"
"No, Prussia thing. When I heard Friedrich crossed Dutch border, racked brain on his gain. Can't fathom why go this far. Guess I can't match your depth yet?"
"Uh..."
"You always said build thinking habit. But truly stumped. Was gonna admit defeat, ask you tell—but seeing you, can't."
Theresa burned with challenge, yet gently took my hand.
"You're striving multifaceted; I must too. These things you realize yourself, right? I'll think more."
"Y-yeah. Thanks."
"Thanks? Must solve before results. Praise if I guess right?"
Big trouble. Karl too, Theresa too—how grand do they think me?
Must fabricate reason sans.
Fueled by beloved wife's expectations, brain spun past limits.