Chapter 67
Chapter 67
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 067
Chapter Title: The Fragrance of Rome
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If you're talking about making the Holy Roman Empire truly Roman, there's one major sticking point.
Is the real Rome the republican era when it rose as the hegemon of the Mediterranean, or the age when emperors wielded unchecked power?
With the imperial house still firmly in place, the former is impossible even if we wanted it. So, to become truly Roman, we'd have no choice but to follow the latter path.
But I know all too well that such pre-modern absolute monarchies eventually run out of steam.
Places where the royals got too rowdy—like France or Russia—ended up with the royals' heads bidding a beautiful farewell to their bodies. Meanwhile, somewhere like England managed to survive as the nation's skinny mascot, stretched thin over time.
But no matter how you look at it, turning this empire into something like England would make unification impossible even after a thousand years.
Even the Prussian-style unification of Germany spilled rivers of blood. Expanding that to the entire Holy Roman Empire? We'd be laughing our heads off at the sheer impossibility.
No, honestly speaking, even with military force, it'd just splinter apart in no time.
The German states might unify under some "we're all Germans" banner, but nations of different ethnicities? Forget it.
In other words, while Theresa and I are alive is the last chance. No more coins after this.
After racking my brain until it felt ready to burst, I concluded that the only way to bind this crumbly household together was to instill a single shared identity among all its members.
And that identity is "Rome."
Not the self-proclaimed Romes that have flooded history, but the real deal—one that encompasses countless ethnicities and states.
And if it's Rome, then naturally, a senate must shine.
My plan was to give the long-dysfunctional Imperial Diet a real sense of purpose.
Even if actual power would mostly concentrate in the emperor's hands—wouldn't that be perfect?
After all, that's how Rome did it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The nine electors who moved the Holy Roman Empire... it sounds incredibly grand, but lately, the balance of power had effectively collapsed.
Of course, they were still impressive and influential, but not all electors wielded equal strength.
Even before the War of the Austrian Succession erupted, Austria—with its Bohemian crown—and Prussia—with its Brandenburg electorate—overwhelmed the others in national power.
On top of that, Austria had fully secured northern Italy, while Prussia gained control of the Lower Rhine.
And the Saxon electorate had essentially become a pawn squeezed between Prussia, Austria, and Russia.
That left only Bavaria and the Palatinate able to speak independently.
But the ugly truth spreading through the empire was that even Bavaria couldn't utter a peep against Prussia.
Prussia, now beyond any measure of combat prowess, was gleefully hammering Bavaria with tariff rates like some medieval overlord.
Friedrich's killer tariff weapon had escalated past 5x, 10x, even hitting 20x.
Despite receiving insane 2000% customs bills, Bavaria could only whine, "This can't be right." What would anyone think?
In the midst of this, Albrecht succeeded in securing Austria's mediation proposal and rushed to the Palatine elector like a man with nothing to lose.
"Your Highness! If only you agree, we can definitely put an end to Friedrich's mad rampage. Lend us your strength!"
"...Is it true that Austria will take the lead?"
"Yes! I've already spoken with Franz. With Austria stepping up, backed by Bavaria, the Palatinate, and the ecclesiastical electors, we can push the agenda through!"
"Hmm... If we can rein in Prussia without war, there's no better way."
The justification was solid, and no blood needed spilling—that was appealing. But it wasn't without concerns.
"Isn't Austria formally allied with Prussia? You're saying this flips to high tension in an instant?"
"That was before Friedrich became king. You know how power blinds reason, Your Highness."
"...True. A marriage alliance doesn't mean sending off daughters or sons, after all."
If marital ties guaranteed harmony, Europe would have no wars to begin with.
Take Franz: his mother was from the French court, yet France mercilessly attacked Lorraine.
Especially with Prussia's situation shifting so rapidly—Friedrich's ego inflating was no surprise.
"That guy's king now, holds the Lower Rhine passage rights, and just wants to swing his power around wildly. Even if it sparks war, he thinks he'll win."
"...Then why did Friedrich propose a standing committee for the Imperial Diet? It would bind him too."
"Look at the details of his proposal. He wants to stack it entirely with pro-Brandenburg cronies—a blatantly insane demand."
"The man's lost his mind. I got a dangerous vibe from him back in Regensburg."
Palatine Elector Karl III Philip quickly recalled seeing Franz and Friedrich in Regensburg.
"On that note, Franz seems like a decent fellow. His status has risen to near emperor's proxy in Austria, yet he hasn't changed a bit."
"Exactly as I said. Franz is merchant at heart—easy to handle. He only moves for profit."
"I worried Friedrich and Franz might dominate the empire together, but if they clash, it's good for us."
The worst case? They clash to the brink, get hurt, and reconcile.
To prevent that, Bavaria and the Palatinate needed to keep the two at an appropriate simmer.
"Then convince the Bavarian elector on Austria's behalf. This old man will lend his strength for the empire's stability too."
"Understood. Let's put a leash on that Brandenburg mad dog!"
If the Diet gained excessive power per Franz's proposal, minor princes might amplify their voices—but it couldn't be helped.
Both electors agreed: put out the immediate fire first.
Balancing through alliances and rivalries was par for the course in the empire.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The empire was peaceful as ever today.
Prussia's tariffs on Bavaria had broken past 20x to hit 50x, while Austria urged the electors to stop fighting and talk it out.
Other princes exchanged close opinions on how far the tension would go, staying vigilant.
It was the empire's recurring folk game time.
Considering internal strife as Roman tradition, the Holy Roman Empire at least resembled something Roman.
And with my slogan to make this Rome truly Roman, I returned to Regensburg.
Of course, I wasn't fool enough to strut around just because circumstances and status had shifted.
I needed to solidify my image as a mediator who respected the Diet and hoped for smoother, more peaceful imperial operations.
"Your Highness Franz! It's an honor to serve you!"
"You didn't need to go this far. Thank you for the grand welcome."
"Nonsense! As the emperor's full proxy, this is standard protocol."
Behind me, 150 Austrian guard cavalry and 120 court guards entered Regensburg with disciplined precision.
The entire city council bowed deeply to greet us. I shook hands with each one, advancing slowly.
"Has the Brandenburg elector arrived?"
"Yes, yesterday with 200 escorts. Our guards are deployed citywide for any contingencies—your understanding, please."
"Just doing your duty—no issue there. If anything, I'm sorry for bringing tension to this sacred seat of the Diet."
"Not at all! We're grateful. Didn't Your Highness promise to cover the clerks' back pay? We bow in thanks once more."
The councilors bowed deeply as words ended.
Their eyes brimmed with goodwill toward me—public opinion was obvious.
"My heart ached knowing the clerks slaving for the empire's future went unpaid. If I'd known sooner, I'd have acted. I'm just heavy-hearted it dragged on."
"Ooh, to care for the Diet like this..."
The Diet's clerks, interpreters, librarians, and messengers were supposed to be paid jointly by the imperial court, electors, and circles.
But with salaries divvied up among 900 territories? Good luck collecting.
It's like hoping for timely submissions in a group project with 900 members.
Honestly, not the princes' fault—the system's survival would be one of the world's seven wonders.
One war or bad harvest, and salaries got slashed first—clerks always last in line.
How did they survive? Side gigs copying documents or siphoning materials.
Fixes were always talked about but never happened, ossifying over decades.
Why care for vote-less clerks? Simple, pragmatic reason—no change.
Back pay? A whopping three years. Not months—years.
Anyone from the modern world like me, who'd lived as a salaryman, couldn't stomach it.
In today's world, three years' unpaid wages? Stab the boss, and you'd be justified.
The Imperial Diet... time for an overhaul?
"Tell the clerks this covers back pay—and no more worries ahead."
"Really?"
"Yes. If payments lag, the court pays first, then bills the territories. They'll work worry-free. The Diet is the empire's pride. I've always believed a upright Diet makes the empire function as it should."
Regensburg cheered me like a messiah descended on the city.
In the Diet hall, amid envoys from every territory holding their breath, Brandenburg's Friedrich finally appeared with domineering strides.
Tension blanketed the city at the hegemon's entrance—who'd crushed France and stood on the verge of kneeling Bavaria.
I turned slowly, facing Friedrich head-on.
"Welcome. You look even more solid than last time."
"Your Highness seems broader in tolerance too. I hear Austria's representing Bavaria quite earnestly."
Friedrich's cynical voice filled the hall.
A clash of prides, neither yielding an inch.
"No more pointless debate here. Let's talk openly and find a path forward together."
In the taut silence, Friedrich smirked faintly and followed me to the negotiation table.
Behind him, a cart piled with hundreds of document stacks—clearly intent on forcing his will.
As we closed the doors, the thud rippled through the chamber.
"Please, no war..."
Someone's desperate mutter reached my ears.
Got it. Wish granted.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Only silence permeated the vast chamber.
"Pfft!"
"Heh heh heh heh!"
No sooner had the heavy door shut than we burst into laughter.
"Your Highness Friedrich, you're better at acting than I thought."
"Really? I worried I'd overdone the atmosphere. Glad it worked, haha!"
"It just amplified the intimidation. Perfect. I thought you'd taken acting lessons."
"I am pretty good at setting the mood. My father exuded that 'glare hard, beat if displeased' aura nonstop."
Ah, tragic backstory.
As I gave a wry smile, Friedrich shook his head dismissively and changed topics.
"Anyway, my sister says aside from our business, Archduchess Theresa treats her so well—every day is bliss. As her brother, not the elector, I want to thank you."
"No need. Theresa's thrilled to have a friend she can talk to. You two will stay close."
"Heartwarming just hearing it. And the closer they get, the stronger our Austria-Prussia partnership."
Friedrich reached into his document-stuffed cart.
It looked packed with papers, but out came a bottle of vintage wine.
"Finest Burgundy import."
"French wine for an Austria-Prussia summit? Louis XV would roar in joy. Planned it?"
"Not really, but it worked out. Shall we toast to His Majesty Louis XV and begin?"
So, the wine's sponsor becomes Louis XV—who gifted us Lorraine, Lower Rhine rights, and a future top French general.
War or not, starting talks with a toast to the enemy king's health showed depth.
We're magnanimous like that.
I lightly clinked glasses with Friedrich and downed the fruit of French soil.
Thus began the talks to shape the Holy Roman Empire's next century.