Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 085
Chapter Title: Same Pillow, Different Dreams
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The Bourbon dynasty of France and the Wittelsbach family of Bavaria had a long history of both clashing and joining forces.
They had opposed each other in the Thirty Years' War, but afterward, they had aligned on economic and political fronts—not exactly bad blood between them.
That said, their bond wasn't ironclad by any means.
True to France's habit of ditching alliances when the winds shifted, Bavaria had been backstabbed by the French more than once.
Still, France was the most readily available partner Bavaria could pull in right now, and their interests aligned perfectly.
France had been itching for a chance to get revenge on Austria anyway.
Louis XV even wondered if God had answered his prayers by sending Bavaria his way.
Of course, that didn't mean he agreed with all of Albrecht's deductions.
"...So, the Elector of Bavaria has concluded that Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI is the mastermind behind all this?"
"That's correct."
"No, no. That can't be. Franz, that snake, would stab even his father-in-law Charles VI in the back. He's Just been hiding his claws all this time, waiting to swallow the Empire whole."
Charles VI as the mastermind behind the scenes? What a joke.
In Louis XV's mind, Franz was no one's pawn.
If anything, he'd be the one using Charles VI.
"Fleury, what do you think?"
"...We lack evidence right now, so both sides are possible. Regardless of who's pulling the strings, Charles VI and Franz Stefan could be moving as one. But does it matter? The Austrian court clearly has ulterior motives, and that's the key point."
"Well said. So, what does the Elector of Bavaria want from us?"
"The Emperor's on a winning streak because he's kept victorious in wars."
"In other words, start a war. And Bavaria will back us up?"
The reason France lost the last war was the lack of reliable allies.
If Spain had joined as promised, they at least wouldn't have lost the Northern Italy front.
"Not just Bavaria. All the electors suffering under the Emperor's policies will side with France."
"Sounds good, but we'll see..."
It was an offer France had no reason to refuse, but scarred by Spain's betrayal, Louis XV wouldn't commit first.
A brief silence followed. Cardinal Fleury, reading the king's mind, gave a cool analysis of the situation.
"We're bound by a treaty not to antagonize Austria for ten years. Plenty of time left before that expires."
Such treaties could be ignored, but defeat was no longer an option if they did.
Attack in violation of the pact and lose? Then not just Lorraine—Alsace might be forfeit too, with no room to argue.
"We're steadily rebuilding our strength, but Austria's growing its national power at a frightening pace. They extracted massive reparations from the Ottoman War, and reports say Franz Stefan has launched a dedicated team researching new weapons."
"New weapons don't just pop out because you say so, do they?"
"No, but it shows Austria's investing heavily in its military. If Your Majesty truly seeks revenge... seeing it through in a few years offers the best odds."
Austria was strengthening faster than France could recover its losses.
The Ottomans should've tripped them up, but those idiot Muslims handed them victory instead. What morons.
The Bavarian ambassador, Count Schiller, nodded vigorously in agreement with Fleury's assessment.
"Austria's using committees to slyly monopolize all the benefits right now. The longer it drags on, the weaker we'll get, and the stronger they'll become. If I may be bold, France shouldn't wait out the full ten years either."
"Hm... Logical enough."
It was an unchanging truth: to avoid being crushed by Austria forever, they had to be broken once and for all.
But Louis XV, vowing never to underestimate enemies again, needed ways to stack the odds further.
"Fleury, anything else we should do?"
"The last war's real surprise was Prussia's sudden entry. To beat Austria, we must above all split Prussia from them."
"Easier said than done. Got a plan?"
"Yes, but it requires concessions from Bavaria and the Palatinate."
"His Electoral Highness said to hear any proposal and accept if feasible."
"Charles VI's daughter, Archduchess Maria Theresa, was set to inherit. Scrap that and propose crowning Prussia's king as Emperor instead. Ask for neutrality in return—King Friedrich will waver. He craves status."
"That's..."
It was common knowledge the Elector of Bavaria coveted the Holy Roman throne.
He wouldn't happily hand it to Prussia.
"No need to worry. Bavaria and the Palatinate just need to back Prussia together."
"Ah... I see."
"Yes. Austria won't yield the throne easily—they'll pull every trick to block it. Even with Bavaria and Palatinate votes, it falls short. Prussia gets the short end anyway."
Friedrich's actions so far screamed desperation for recognition as a king and the Empire's second power after Austria.
He'd be tempted by the imperial crown.
"We could also push overtly pro-Prussian agendas in the committees. If Austria opposes, it chills relations. Either way, Prussia loses faith in Albrecht."
"Oh! Clever."
If Prussia stayed neutral, it'd form a France-Bavaria alliance against Austria.
Worth a shot.
Imagining that loathsome Franz's face crumpled like trash paper felt better than bedding any beauty.
But first, the final safeguard.
"Bavaria declares war first. And no unilateral peace without mutual consent. Accept that, and we have a deal."
"Of course. Promise your support, and we won't let go first."
Watching them fracture and brawl among themselves was always fun.
The German states unifying? Not in a thousand years.
Louis XV and Cardinal Fleury chuckled under their breath.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ While Louis XV and the Bavarian ambassador were deep in their secret pact...
"Your Highness! Th-this... this is... incredible!"
"The new prototype bullet made to Your Highness's specs... it's terrifyingly effective!"
The newly completed Imperial Armory Research Institute on Vienna's outskirts.
At the heart of its vast grounds lay a testing ground with every security measure the era could muster.
Here, prototypes produced on-site underwent performance trials.
I was watching the new bullet showcase alongside Theresia, who'd insisted on coming.
"Effective range up nearly 40%!"
"Such results in just three months..."
"No, not three months—the implementation took three, but research has been ongoing."
"Ah! Right. Still, implementing in three months is astonishing."
Only natural.
We already had the tech for Minié balls, not Lorenz bullets.
Really, this was more like an idea feasible even by current standards.
"But upgrading just the bullet isn't yielding full potential. Accuracy's down a bit too."
"Yes. Your Highness's modification proposal will resolve that perfectly."
"Should."
Swapping bullets alone wouldn't cut it.
Minié balls shone with rifling and ignition upgrades.
But current tech couldn't implement those right away.
Basic principles and prototypes yielded 3 duds out of 50, 2 underpowered.
No good as weapons yet.
At this pace, though, maybe 600 rifles combat-ready in a year.
"What performance do you anticipate for the finished product, Your Highness?"
"Reload 1.5x faster, effective range 4x?"
"......"
"......"
A momentary hush.
Then the technicians burst into applause and laughter.
"Hahaha! Nice one, Your Highness."
"Y-yes! We'll aim for that as the goal!"
It's real, but they won't believe it. Annoying.
Even the rifle engineers react this way—no one can guess the performance Austria's army will bring next war.
Armies with current muskets vs. upgraded rifles? The first clash wouldn't even qualify as battle—it'd be a massacre.
"One more time: keep prototypes and data under absolute secrecy. The moment it leaks, heads will roll from top to bottom. Prioritize security with that in mind."
"Yes! We'll stake our lives on it."
"Good. As I said last time, thanks to you, thousands of the Empire's young men will return safely to their families."
In the current climate, security was priority one—times three.
Any leak of the improved rifle would uproot the whole plan. Can't stress it enough.
Louis XV and Albrecht aren't fools.
Any whiff of something off, and they'd switch from offense to watchful waiting.
"Then, Your Highness, with the Franz bullet verified, we'll halt tests to prevent leaks and focus on rifle upgrades."
"Franz bullet?"
"Yes. Since Your Highness made it, we call it the Franz bullet."
"We're calling the new rifle Franz 1738 among ourselves."
Fair enough. Franz made it, not Minié.
I grinned sheepishly and turned to Theresia, who'd been watching the tests eagerly from behind.
"What do you think seeing it up close? Kinda boring, huh?"
"No, fascinating. Seeing how much the technicians trust you makes me proud too."
"Well..."
"But it's wild. You're a genius in mechanics too? In my memory..."
Suddenly, Theresia's face stiffened, and she trailed off.
Did she notice something off?
Of course—a guy buried in politics, diplomacy, and economics daily turning out to be a mechanical prodigy too? Too contrived.
I was about to smoothly deploy my prepped excuse when she clapped a hand over her mouth and whipped her head away.
"...Ugh!"
"...!"
"Th-Archduchess Theresia!"
"Are you all right? Doctor! Doctor!"
Ah, that.
My body reacted faster than my brain to the signal I'd seen sixteen times in my past life.
"You there! No panicking—get a bigger, wider chair and lukewarm water! Everyone else, open windows for ventilation! Handkerchiefs and lemon too! Hurry!"
The seasoned reflexes of a man who'd overseen sixteen pregnancies didn't fade.
My near-spinal-reflex commands snapped the flustered technicians into orderly action.
That day, no more tests mattered.