The Fall of Regensburg (2)
By the nature of the Imperial Diet, if certain princes decided to troll in earnest, it was nearly impossible to pass any agenda.
But for times like these, I'd established a highly useful system called the special committee.
For urgent matters related to national defense or foreign affairs, they could be handled immediately by majority vote through the committee. The Elector of Saxony had classified this imperial tax controversy as a national defense issue.
"No, imperial taxes are taxes—how can they be national defense related?"
"It's a matter directly tied to the security of the entire Empire, so of course it is. What's the largest item in imperial taxes? Military contributions! Military contributions!"
It was the logic that they would no longer tolerate free-riding on security, leaving little room for counterarguments.
A few principalities, including Sweden's representative, protested, but the committee proceeded according to its predetermined conclusion regardless.
The committee was already structured so that with Austria, Prussia, Saxony, and the Balkan principalities all voting in bloc, any agenda could pass.
And with Bavaria and the Palatinate's voting rights already revoked, how could they possibly oppose?
Out of 120 votes, it passed overwhelmingly: 101 in favor, 15 against, 4 abstentions. The bill stripping high-delinquency princes of their authority was approved.
"You... you dogs of the Emperor! Are you really handing this Empire over to the Emperor's grasp?!"
"...Says the one who's been delinquent for a hundred years."
"Even so, a hundred years is a bit much. Ours is only about twelve."
"Who chooses to be delinquent...!"
Sweden protested that if they fell, they'd be next, but unfortunately, the princes turned their backs the moment they heard the scale of Sweden's imperial tax delinquency.
Even if skimping on taxes at an appropriate level was customary, a hundred years and a 95% delinquency rate was unprecedented even among princes.
"Fifty steps versus a hundred" might be a saying, but that's logic for the blameless. Anyone with mud on them will scream bloody murder if compared to someone covered in shit—that's the way of the world.
"Sweden, or rather the Duchy of Pomerania's glorious delinquency record is as follows. Even after the Treaty of Westphalia a hundred years ago, they failed to pay military contributions, leading to the suspension of their voting rights. They paid a portion afterward to regain their seats, but it was barely that—a portion—and every time military contributions were levied, they dodged with excuses about defense costs."
"Does anyone think we pay military contributions because we're swimming in money?!"
"To date, the Duke of Pomerania has paid only about five-tenths of what was owed!"
Of course, there's no grave without excuses, and Sweden's claim of lacking money was true enough.
Sweden had long been in territorial disputes with Russia, and after their defeat in the Great Northern War, maintaining Pomerania alone was a burden.
But what reaction would you get from saying you couldn't pay contributions because defending your territory already stretched you thin?
Then countries offering to defend it for you would line up.
Does that make paying the arrears possible?
They had to pay one-tenth of the delinquent imperial taxes within the year—something impossible without embracing fiscal bankruptcy.
A dilemma with no way forward or back.
Upon hearing the news, Sweden naturally roared in fury.
"You bandit bastards!"
"Protect us and take our money? In your dreams!"
"I can't do this prince business anymore! If you're going to pressure us like this, we'll just leave the Empire!"
"Pomerania is already in the red! More military contributions would bankrupt us outright!"
The Swedish parliament, regardless of party, criticized the Empire and even spilled heated words that abandoning prince status might be better.
Of course, they weren't really going to strike their prince titles—it was just rhetoric—but the problem was that it came up repeatedly in public forums.
The parliament even passed a resolution declaring arrears repayment absolutely impossible.
And Friedrich wasn't one to miss such a golden opportunity.
"To dare ignore the Imperial Diet's decision—this is a refusal to respect the Empire's order, a public act of rebellion! As Elector of Brandenburg, I cannot stand by those disrupting the Holy Roman Empire's order! I shall punish Pomerania for abandoning its duties and rights as a prince, and bring the hammer down on Sweden's arrogance!"
"Hooray!"
"Long live His Majesty Friedrich!"
"For Rome!"
"As expected, His Majesty Friedrich had a plan all along! He is the shepherd who will lead us Junker to paradise!"
Prussia, who had been praying for just one to slip up, drew their swords under the pretext of normalizing insolent principalities.
"W-wait, we never said we'd relinquish our prince status..."
"Those who shirk duties have no right to privileges!"
Prussia formally declared the Duke of Pomerania, who had announced non-payment of imperial taxes, no longer a prince of the Empire—and no one raised objections.
On the contrary, the Elector of Saxony actively supported Friedrich's decision, while Denmark chose to observe without endorsing or opposing.
That meant it was time for me to deliver the grand finale to this magnificent stage.
The pro-Franz faction, led by the Elector of Saxony, had been ceaselessly stirring public opinion even now.
The princes watching this spectacle must already feel the tide had turned decisively.
This upheaval was essentially a time attack.
The war ministry generals, myself included, had calculated that the Franco-British war might end unexpectedly quickly.
If Britain started making noise as Elector of Hanover, dissatisfied princes could side with them.
So we had to grip the reins even tighter.
After Prussia marched on Pomerania, I led my guards directly to Regensburg.
This visit had two main purposes.
First, to subtly reveal that Austria stood behind the rampaging Elector of Saxony.
Second, to bring down the curtain on this Imperial Diet.
We'd had some fun with the special committee, but as long as this outdated Imperial Diet existed, the Empire couldn't advance further.
Not abolishing it entirely, of course.
The name "Imperial Diet" held pride for many, and it was a venerable institution that had endured for a whopping 900 years.
I strode unhesitatingly to the podium and spoke my first words.
"Dear representatives of Regensburg, it's a pleasure."
"Long live Prince Franz!"
"Long live! Long live!"
Led by Augustus III's call, the pro-Austria delegates erupted in enthusiasm.
It was like greeting a cult leader—Augustus III looked perfectly suited, as if he'd found his true calling.
"Regensburg has hosted the Imperial Diet for nearly 80 years, achieving much."
Questions about specific achievements were strictly off-limits. There were none.
"The Imperial Diet has been the center holding together an Empire splintered into dozens of states. For this alone, I believe Regensburg deserves special treatment in the Empire."
For the record, this was the plain truth.
Even if the Diet had no value as a legislative or executive body, it had at least stitched together minimal conflicts.
"But the world grows ever more complex daily, and neighboring powers are desperate for every scrap of advantage. Look at France and Britain. The New World and India they fight over are lands that, separately, rival or surpass all of Europe. While we bicker over this narrow patch, they wage war to claim another world entirely."
Instead of pouring out more words, I deliberately paused to catch my breath and glance around.
These were educated elites representing principalities—they'd grasp my meaning perfectly.
The current Imperial Diet system had no future.
"His Imperial Majesty, along with the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, raised the increasingly meaningless imperial taxes not merely for trivial issues like military contributions.
Sweden uttered the absurd claim they'd rather leave the Empire than pay Pomerania's share. His Majesty was deeply shocked and expressed profound disillusionment.
How long must this assembly remain a marketplace haggling princes' interests? How long must we pour all our energy into resolving century-old delinquencies? While savages beyond the seas usher in a new era with cannons and ships, we've wasted ink on dusty parchments!"
Prussia taking Pomerania was nothing compared to the changes this would trigger.
The Franco-British conflict was the same.
In this suffocating silence, I finally broached the main point.
"However, this is not solely the fault of those gathered here. There is merit in criticisms that the Emperor, who should lead the Empire, and imperial Austria failed to earn your trust and reward your loyalty.
But the new era dawning before us will be different. His Majesty promises you absolute security and prosperity, granting you far greater power.
The path forward is unity. We must rewrite this ancient order and pave the way to integration!"
"......"
Bewilderment, fear, anxiety.
The delegates could only exchange glances, not even breathing at this unimaginable bombshell.
"Of course, this isn't some tyrannical demand to merge all principalities. The unity I speak of means this assembly must be reborn as a true unified parliament.
Thus! Henceforth, the Imperial Diet will not convene in Regensburg, but in Vienna! Merging the current Diet and committees into a real parliament, not just in name."
"Not Regensburg... but Vienna?"
"That means Regensburg is being discarded..."
Murmurs spread like waves.
The faces of Regensburg's representatives, who had lived for nearly a century on pride as the Empire's political heart, drained white.
Smaller principalities' delegates showed clear dismay and unease.
I quelled their anxiety with a gentle yet unyieldingly firm tone none could defy.
"It is not being discarded, esteemed representatives."
That single phrase silenced the rowdy chamber like a douse of water.
"Regensburg has fulfilled its mission. As the great cradle that upheld 900 years of order, its glory will be eternally recorded in history. But! A cradle cannot hold a child forever. The child must grow into an adult—and so must the Empire!"
I stepped to the podium's edge, locking eyes with Regensburg's representatives as I continued.
"Of course, the Empire never abandons cities that devoted themselves to it. From now on, Regensburg will take a new mission: to become the Empire's richest, most prosperous free city! Austria's new technologies will first sprout here in Regensburg, then spread across the Empire!"
Simply taking sows resentment. To take something, give a reward so immense they forget what they lost.
"Your enemies are no longer fellow princes beside you. Our foes are all that block the Empire's glory! Our legions will bring Rome's iron fist upon all who threaten imperial interests!"
Pro-Austria eyes, led by Augustus III, began to gleam with strange fervor.
"Choose, everyone! Will you debate dusty pasts in Regensburg's antiquated assembly hall?"
"...!"
"Or! As members of Rome's Imperial Diet, will you gaze upon the world?"
Silence fell.
Perhaps I'd pushed too hard from the start. If dissenters emerged now, I'd have to crush them with force.
As I quietly gauged reactions, Augustus III was first to raise his hand and shout.
"For His Imperial Majesty and the Diet! For Rome!"
"Hooray!"
That sparked it—the chamber filled with pro-Austria cheers.
"For Rome! For the Empire!"
Some still lukewarm, but none dared voice opposition outright. The game was over.
The die was cast.
The Imperial Diet would die before year's end.
And a new Rome would be born.