Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Physique Improvement
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As expected.
Maurice gave his firm commitment to join the Austrian army the moment he heard my conditions.
"I always wanted to rise as high as possible in the French army. But since the king refuses to grant full authority to foreigners, there's no reason for me to stay there, is there?"
"It's true that Duke Berwick suffered a crushing defeat, but even if a Frenchman had been in that position, it wouldn't have been preventable. Just look at Duke Villars, another Frenchman—he's already botched the Italian front."
"That's exactly my point! And I kept telling Duke Berwick: at this rate, we'll be annihilated. If we want to save even a fraction of our forces, we need to regroup and retreat. After all that, why should I be treated like some untrustworthy foreigner?!"
Indeed.
This wasn't something I'd orchestrated—it was more like the stars aligning in the most fortuitous way.
As I recalled from my past life, Duke Berwick had died from a stray shell while besieging Philippsburg.
That opened the door for Maurice—who hadn't yet risen to a position of command—to showcase his talents.
When ranking the era's greatest generals, Friedrich and Eugene were always locked in at first and second. The battle for third, fourth, and fifth was fierce, but Maurice had more than enough skill to crack the top five.
Naturally, he went on to thrive in the French army, earning Louis XV's unwavering trust and eventually ascending to the role of Marshal of France.
That was the plan, but before he could even get a proper shot, Duke Berwick ruined the French army—and it ended up creating this opportunity.
And the man behind that historic debacle? An Englishman, of all people.
It's no wonder Louis XV's rage spilled over in the wrong direction.
"Maurice... no, from now on, I'll call you Hermann Moritz. Forget France—they couldn't recognize your true worth. Just look at how they cast out Prince Eugene; it speaks volumes about their lack of vision."
"You're right. I never imagined I'd end up in the same boat as Prince Eugene."
"People always think, 'No matter how unreasonable things get, it won't happen to me.' But don't worry. In the Empire, as long as you have the skill and results, anyone can rise to the top."
Not just me, the emperor, or the army's supreme commander Eugene—officers from foreign lands were thriving in the military academy too.
It had happened somewhat by accident, but for an empire bearing the name of Rome, shouldn't this be the ideal image?
For the Holy Roman Empire—practically an imperial appeal in itself—to truly become Rome reborn, this was a necessary step.
"I'm having coffee with Prince Eugene tomorrow anyway, so I'll introduce you then. If he vouches for you, you'll get a chance to prove yourself soon enough. Give it your best shot."
"...Th-thank you! If you believe in me, I swear I won't let you down! I mean it!"
Though somewhat overshadowed by Friedrich's shocking debut, Eugene's reputation in the Empire had reached near-divine status.
His veteran prowess shone through at age seventy, utterly annihilating the French-Sardinian alliance with flawless strategy.
But it wasn't just his battles—having mentored the exceptional Leopold Joseph added immense weight to his legend.
History had plenty of great generals, but few had cultivated equally brilliant successors.
So if Eugene endorsed Moritz, he'd easily find opportunities to shine in the coming wars.
The war with France had just ended, so everyone was overlooking it for now—but war was inevitable.
The flames of conflict raged in the Adriatic Sea and the Balkans.
The bitter rivalry between the Habsburgs and the Ottoman Empire, dating back to the 16th century, still festered.
Securing dominance in northern Italy via the Treaty of Lorraine was part of the buildup for that.
In my past life, Austria's blunders had given the Ottomans false hope, but this time, I'd leave zero chance.
Decisively, I'd bury Europe's former emperor—now its patient.
The coffin was being prepared smoothly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The final piece before the war with the Ottomans.
A fundamental overhaul of the Holy Roman Empire's massive framework.
As Charles VI had said, the princes were growing uneasy with the surging power and authority of the imperial house.
And if we crushed the Ottomans and claimed Adriatic dominance on top of that?
Wouldn't the notion that Charles VI could become a true emperor take root across the Empire?
Acting too late would be fatal.
Before the Ottoman war fully materialized, I wanted to wrap up the bare minimum.
"...So anyway, I've more or less settled on a plan."
To pull this off, coordination with Prussia was essential.
Perfectly timed, Wilhelmina's wedding to Karl had solidified our alliance.
Teresa tilted her head at the plan on the table.
"Doesn't this look fine as is? Friedrich's just formally inherited the throne and the electorate, so Brandenburg should stay firmly on our side for a while."
"That's a definite advantage, but it could backfire too. Don't forget—every prince in the Holy Roman Empire is watching us with bated breath."
No exaggeration: not a single prince ignored the Hofburg Palace or my movements.
If some fool wasn't paying attention, they weren't worth worrying about anyway.
Teresa nodded, grasping my point immediately.
"I see. Even if we collaborate with Brandenburg, we can't let it look like we're conspiring. The moment you meet anyone from there, the whole Empire will assume some secret deal went down..."
"Exactly. Whether it's Wilhelmina or the Brandenburg ambassador, any contact from me would fuel suspicions of backroom pacts. Using someone else as a go-between risks leaks, and regular meetings would raise red flags too."
I needed a more effective, regular channel—but hadn't nailed down the best option yet.
Teresa glanced between me and the table, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"That could be simpler to solve than you think."
"Oh? How?"
"I just meet Wilhelmina regularly. I was already planning ladies' salons anyway. I've even named it: the Imperial Muses Circle (Kaiserlicher Musen-Kreis)."
A ladies' salon... huh? That's actually brilliant.
As Habsburg heir, Teresa hosting cultured noblewomen for tea-time debates was perfectly natural.
Inviting Wilhelmina would feel like just another women's gathering—far less suspicious. And since it'd be routine, doubts would fade.
Plus, it cleverly exploited the era's prejudice that women wouldn't discuss complex politics.
"...Did you just come up with that on the spot? Impressive."
"No, it was already in the works—I just slotted Wilhelmina in. Pretty good idea, right?"
"Yeah. Once you pass my plan to her, she'll handle the rest."
The old her from my past life wouldn't have spun such a scheming plot.
Rewards for raising her right from childhood really shone in moments like this.
"Can you create a suitable pretext and relay my proposal to her as soon as possible? How soon?"
"Tomorrow, if you want? I was going to teach her Austrian court etiquette anyway—subtly different from Brandenburg's. She's studied, but it'll look better coming from me. Brandenburg simplified most events and protocols due to the old king's infamous stinginess."
Brandenburg and Austria might share an empire, but their vibes were worlds apart.
Religion split them—Protestant vs. Catholic—and Prussia's harsh militarism under Wilhelm had stifled women's social lives.
As the future pinnacle of imperial womanhood, Teresa prepping Brandenburg's princess to avoid mockery was reasonable and diplomatically sound.
Heh, I taught her well.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
"Of course—just trust me."
This time, maybe I'd sit back and enjoy my lovely wife's handiwork.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After intently listening to Franz outline the Empire's future path, Teresa sprang into action.
"Are you enjoying Vienna's atmosphere?"
"Of course. Everyone's so kind, my husband showers me with love, and it's been ages since I could indulge in culture like this... No exaggeration—every day is pure bliss."
"I'm glad. Culture and art nourish the soul, after all. Your late father-elector was notoriously stingy about such things, so you must have suffered."
"You have no idea. Let me think... Oh, once I tried painting as a hobby, and he screamed obscenities about wasting expensive paints. Can you believe it?"
The daughter of Prussia's king and Brandenburg's elector getting cussed out over paints.
Anyone else, you'd suspect ulterior motives—but with Wilhelm, it tracked.
Teresa smiled wryly and squeezed her hand.
"Here, you can do anything you desire. Actually, let me introduce you to Viennese culture step by step—we'll spend time together."
Berlin had been misery for a princess, scarred by her father's inhumanity.
Now, Vienna's opposite—and the Habsburg heir personally guiding her.
Austrian nobles would praise it as masterful diplomacy, interpreting any private meetings as thoughtful consideration for her comfort.
Easier to spin as heartwarming than mere etiquette lessons, and a perfect ongoing excuse.
"We can sip coffee, paint, chat music... To ease awkwardness, just us two for now."
"My goodness... So much to be grateful for."
She might not grasp the full intent yet, so Teresa started elaborating—
"Then what should I tell your brother?"
Wilhelmina revealed her true colors without hesitation, as if secrecy was pointless.
As Franz had said, she wasn't just a pretty flower.
Teresa liked that all the more.
She too aimed to be a flame illuminating the Empire's future, not mere garden decoration.
"Franz and I will uproot and rebuild this Empire's rotten structure. For that, we need Brandenburg's cooperation."
"What exactly do you want?"
"Start with reforming the Imperial Diet. Have the Elector of Brandenburg inject some real tension into that lax assembly. As aggressively as possible."
"Brandenburg wields the rod while Austria offers the carrot? That's right up Friedrich's alley, but I'm worried he'll just look like the villain."
"Hardly. Won't Brandenburg's nobles be thrilled to see their lord's power in action?"
Friedrich would flaunt his growing influence, sparking tension—then Austria mediates.
As Teresa explained the benefits to Brandenburg, Franz met minor princes' ambassadors, securing support in exchange for massive financial perks.
A perfect division of labor. Like wife, like husband.