Chapter 35
Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 035
Chapter Title: The Final Piece
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After untold efforts, I had finally become the emperor who gripped the Empire in his fist.
Now the Holy Roman Empire was truly holy, Roman, and an empire...
"Your Majesty Franz! We can't stop here!"
No, Duke Friedrich? Why the sudden mustache?
Ignoring my bewilderment, Friedrich—who looked completely different now—jabbed at a map of Europe with his baton and bellowed.
"Come now, Your Majesty Franz! All of Europe awaits us! For the survival of every German living in the Holy Roman Empire! We must become the true Rome!"
"...What did you eat to spout such nonsense?"
"I, Friedrich, the right hand of the Holy Roman Emperor and king of the Empire's armies, shall place this world in your hands!"
"Argh! Cut the crap! Shave off that damned mustache first!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...Your Highness! Prince Franz!"
"Gah! What, what is it? Just a dream?"
"Yes. You must have had a nightmare. You were mumbling something about mustaches and marching on Poland in your sleep..."
Phew, so it was just a dream.
Maybe because of that bizarre talk with Friedrich yesterday, I'd unwittingly glimpsed a landscape from some parallel world that shouldn't exist.
October 1, 1727.
On Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI's birthday, Austria was swept up in a grand festive mood.
Hofburg Palace was twice as bustling as usual, flooded with gifts and envoys pouring in from all sides.
Thanks to that, handling the distinguished guest from Prussia, Friedrich, fell entirely on me from start to finish.
I'd worried at first what to do with him stuck to me the whole festival—not just a day or two—but surprisingly, my tasks became clear.
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or get angry, but yesterday's bombshell from Friedrich made it hit home again.
—If that happens, the other nations won't just stand by. In the end, we'll need to unite the German states at least once to keep France and Britain in check.
For anyone who knew modern history, it was a statement that would make them flinch—extremely, very extremely—but if it stopped there, it was a plausible scenario.
For the Holy Roman Empire to function like a proper empire, it needed some degree of centralization.
To unite the chaotic German states, a monarch with that kind of charisma had to step up.
I'd considered parliamentary or oligarchic systems, but after experiencing the Imperial Diet, I was more convinced than ever.
To achieve unification, an emperor worthy of the title had to emerge.
But our kind-hearted European friends wouldn't just watch us unify Germany.
"France or Britain... Britain might even egg on France."
Britain even held the position of Elector of Hanover in the Holy Roman Empire, so if they wanted to intervene, they had the perfect pretext.
"Even if Prussia and I split the German states, who knows what happens after our deaths."
Still, it was a relief that Friedrich's resolve was that firm.
It meant our chances of drawing Prussia into the upcoming War of the Polish Succession had improved.
With our rapport growing, I headed to the dining hall before he left Vienna, planning to solidify our alliance—er, partnership.
And there, I encountered some unexpected faces.
"Waaah! I lost again!"
"The world of competition is a harsh one."
"No fair! Why won't you go easy? You could at least a little."
"But Your Highness the Archduchess has a sturdy fiancé. Think of it as payment for that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Entering, I was greeted by Theresia and Friedrich facing off over a chessboard.
And shockingly, Eugène de Savoie was watching their match from behind.
I couldn't even guess how this odd trio had formed.
Eugène spotted me first—before the two engrossed in the board—and approached with a friendly greeting.
"You're a bit later than usual. Overslept?"
"Ah, yes. I had a weird dream and tossed all night, it seems. But what are those two up to?"
"We meant to just exchange greetings and part ways, but talk turned to our own Franz Stefan here, and things heated up. With so much to discuss, we decided on chess. Then it turned into a pride clash."
"Ah, no wonder it made no sense."
How could I possibly follow that train of thought?
Both were the type who'd rank second to none in pride; pit them at chess, and it'd turn into a real duel.
From the looks of it, young Theresia wasn't a match for Friedrich yet and was fuming from losses.
Even so, you could go easy on a kid like that, but was Friedrich the type to go all-out even against an elementary schooler?
"Agh! Seriously, again...? You're playing way too dirty!"
"Your Highness the Archduchess, such words in chess mean your skill is so superior I can't keep up."
"Grrr... I'm done playing. Bet you're thrilled being so good at chess. Hmph! I was looking for Franz, anyway... Huh?"
They bickered so cutely.
Theresia huffed, then finally noticed me, eyes widening as she scurried over.
"How long have you been there? No, wait—were you here? You should've said something!"
"You were so focused on chess I couldn't get a word in. Did Your Highness Friedrich sleep well?"
"Ah, yes. Thanks to you, very well. Waiting wasn't boring, thanks to Your Highness the Archduchess."
"You won every single game without mercy, so of course it was fun for you."
Friedrich chuckled awkwardly at Theresia's lingering jab and began resetting the board.
"I'm serious about competition myself, so I couldn't help it. If you're upset, I apologize."
"...Well, can't be helped. Chess is chess; going easy would be weird anyway."
"I'll try to hold back next time."
"What? I'll practice super hard, so no excuses when I beat you next time!"
Watching these two—who'd clash relentlessly in my past life—bicker over chess felt strangely heartwarming.
Just observing, Friedrich pretended otherwise but subtly needled Theresia. Some personalities just clashed perfectly.
Eugène watched their renewed spat, then whispered to me alone.
"By the way, I probed a bit, and that Friedrich kid is even more impressive than I thought... Did you know?"
"If you mean his military genius, yes. That's why we should get along."
"Still a child, yet his strategic insight is astonishing. Even casual answers while focused on chess had no flaws."
Yeah, that tracks. Honestly, enviable.
If I had that military talent, I could've skipped the headaches, led personally, smashed France's skull, then straight to Poland... No, get lost, you nag!
"Your Highness the Archduchess, I only showed half my skill. Even if you grow stronger, the gap will remain..."
"Liar! I saw you skip the chocolate and focus to win!"
Watching the future King of Prussia and Habsburg heir trade barbs was too intense to stare at long.
But Eugène's gaze stayed serious, unyielding.
"Franz, no matter how young, a lion is a lion. Or rather, that child might become a dragon—or a monster like Jörmungandr. Understand? Never let your guard down."
"I know. I'm not careless."
"Good, that's reassuring. Starting tomorrow, I'll drill Josef even harder. At this rate, he might not handle Friedrich later."
With that, Eugène bowed to Theresia and left for the dining hall, intent on special training his pupil immediately.
Drop my guard? Me, who'd top the list of Friedrich victims? No way.
Don't worry, Prince Eugène—the outlines will show in a few years.
"Theresia-nim? I'm heading to the banquet hall now. Shall we go with Prince Friedrich...?"
"Eek! I can't take it! One more game! I'll win for real this time!"
"Hmm... Very well. Shall I remove a bishop this time?"
"Argh! You're doing it on purpose!"
...Guess I'll go alone. I told the attendants to intervene if things heated up and left the dining hall.
If they bonded like this, it wasn't bad. As long as they didn't grab collars first.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Our Charles VI, ever the Holy Roman Emperor, was utterly exhausted from nearly round-the-clock birthday celebrations.
I seized the perfect moment when we were alone, requesting a private audience late at night after everyone slept.
"...Any urgent business for tomorrow? I'm tired now; unless it's critical, let's talk then."
"Envoys and diplomats from every nation flood the palace for Your Majesty's birthday, making it chaotic. I judged this the best time for a secret talk."
"...Secret talk? About that visiting Friedrich?"
"Not entirely unrelated."
Prussia needed to be a key player, which required Charles VI's help—so not wrong strictly speaking.
Until now, my solo groundwork sufficed, but it was time for serious preparations.
Conveniently appointed advisor to the Imperial Finance Committee, I could frame it as routine meetings or work.
Sitting beside the emperor, I asked in a drier tone than usual.
"Your Majesty. How many years do you think we have left before war engulfs us?"
"War? What out-of-the-blue..."
"Apologies for gloomy talk on your birthday. But that's why no one suspects us discussing this."
Who'd prophesy—curse-like—a massive war within years on an emperor's birthday?
Even in private with the promising son-in-law, they'd assume gift talk to curry favor.
"If you say that much, there's a sign. Where?"
"Only one spark for war. Poland."
I pulled out stacks of prepared papers and spread them before him.
Since perfectly predicting the Spain-Britain war outcome, my "reports"—read: heavenly leaks—held immense credibility.
Charles VI gravely lifted the first page, eyes narrowing.
"Hmm... [Preemptive Measures for the Polish Succession Crisis and Potential Great Power Clash]. Chilling title."
"I kept it objective and dry."
"Poland's elective monarchy invites great power meddling at vacancies, breeding instability. Predicting based on that... France protects ex-king Stanisław and will claim succession... This much, the committee discussed."
As the emperor said, the Polish throne sowed discord; experts could predict that far.
But the real meat followed—likely unseen by contemporaries.
"Sardinia wants Mantua; Spain, failing Gibraltar, eyes Milan. Netherlands and Britain dread escalation, so worst case, Austria faces Spain, France, Sardinia alone... The mere thought wakes you up."
Not imagination—past life reality, father-in-law.
I'd sweetened Spain ties with survival tactics, but they'd at best declare neutrality.
France-Sardinia pincer unchanged; situation still dire.
"However, Franz. This all hinges on Saxony's Elector—current Polish king—dying. Didn't he come to Regensburg this time?"
"That's why I wrote this. He paraded robustness publicly. But post-meeting, alone, I glimpsed severe coughing. His physicians waited, as if expecting it."
"...True?"
Of course not, bullshit. But Augustus II dies in 5 years, 4 months anyway.
Any excuse works.
Whatever, results would validate my prediction.
"Yes. At latest, 6-7 years."
"But France might not choose war with us?"
"As noted, unlikely. A pro-France Polish government checks Russia and us automatically. They won't pass that up, especially holding a strong claim card."
Louis XV's wife: Maria Leszczyńska, daughter of ex-king Stanisław. He resented her exiled, kingdomless family.
"Plus, they'll see Lorraine drawing closer to the Holy Roman Empire. France has no choice. Strictly, they must go to war."
"No wonder the sudden military academy or ordnance buys... So, build deterrence for war? Or diplomacy to nip it?"
"Neither. Prepare, but don't let France know we're ready."
Avoidable wars should be avoided, but here, dodging meant getting devoured and ruined.
If unavoidable, meet it on our strongest terms.
"No way..."
"Yes, that no-way."
I shoved the report's conclusion at him.
—Decisive victory over France to secure Lorraine permanently.
A position I'd inherit someday, though Theresia's regent now.
"If war ends thus, no one in the Empire challenges the throne."
Reading finished, the emperor's eyes blazed with undisguised fire.