Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Open the Strait (1)
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“Your Majesty! What on earth do you mean?! Sending the fleet to the Far East?!”
Unlike in the original history, Sergei Witte, who still held onto his position as Finance Minister, raised his voice before the Tsar with a face that screamed utter incomprehension.
And who could blame him? The war seemed poised to end far sooner than expected, and not only North Manchuria but even Mongolia was up for grabs as a bonus.
Just days ago, he had been grinning ear to ear, drafting development plans for North Manchuria. And now, out of nowhere, the Tsar wanted to dispatch the main fleet from the homeland to the Far East.
He hadn’t heard a whisper about any of this!
But Tsar Nicholas II, the man behind this mess, seemed oblivious to Witte’s turmoil. With a calm expression, he stirred sugar into his tea and replied.
“Obviously, to win the war.”
“Your Majesty, we can already negotiate from a position of strength and end the war. There’s no reason to drag it out further!”
Why take the dangerous, circuitous route when a quick and safe path lay open?
Desperate to sway Nicholas II, Witte pressed on, and the Tsar—ever one with thin ears—began to waver.
“Hmm... Count Lambsdorff. Do you share the Finance Minister’s view?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.”
Foreign Minister Lambsdorff, aligned with Witte, answered without a hint of hesitation.
In his eyes, there was no reason to prolong the war with Japan.
“This is the perfect chance to annex North Manchuria into Russian territory without Britain’s meddlesome interference. And with our successes in the Far East, we can snag Mongolia too. Why pass that up?”
“The Foreign Minister is right, Your Majesty. Even if we dispatch the homeland fleet, it’ll take considerable time to reach the Far East, and a long-distance expedition carries far too much risk.”
“That’s...”
Nicholas II started hesitating, his indecisive nature rearing its head despite the fervent persuasion from Witte and Foreign Minister Lambsdorff.
Seizing the moment, Witte drove the point home by invoking his expertise in economics to pressure the Tsar.
“The war’s massive expenditures are straining the Empire’s finances. On top of that, food shortages are causing severe suffering among the people. For their sake, I beseech you to reconsider.”
“Economics, economics. True, Germany’s military aid didn’t come cheap.”
The German Empire hadn’t handed over the highly effective German-made weapons for free.
They’d discounted them somewhat, but the Germans refused to take a loss—they insisted on at least cost price.
In the end, the Russian Empire shelled out a fortune for those weapons and ammunition, funded as always by the blood and sweat of the Russian people’s taxes.
And the results had been worth it. Up until now, at least.
“Then, we’ll think this over a bit more...”
“Absolutely not, Your Majesty!”
As Nicholas II yielded to Witte’s persuasion and seemed ready to backtrack, a man in a crisp suit burst into the Tsar’s office with a booming voice.
Witte and Lambsdorff, on the verge of sighing in relief, scowled darkly the moment they saw him.
“Bezobrazov...!”
Alexander Mikhailovich Bezobrazov—a Russian nobleman and businessman recently appointed Viceroy of the Far East, and the Tsar’s favorite advisor.
The instigator of the Russo-Japanese War, who insisted the Empire must seize Manchuria and Korea for his personal gain—even at the cost of war—and Witte’s greatest rival.
Witte bared his teeth openly, growling at Bezobrazov.
“Shouldn’t you be in Vladivostok as Viceroy of the Far East? What brings you to St. Petersburg?”
“How could I sit idly by when you lot try to arbitrarily end a war we can easily win? As a loyal servant of the Russian Empire, I had to act.”
Loyal servant, my foot, Witte muttered inwardly, grinding his teeth.
Now he understood why Nicholas II had suddenly proposed sending the fleet to the Far East.
This schemer had clearly egged the Tsar on again.
“The armistice terms with Japan and Britain require us to withdraw from Lüshun—not to mention Korea. You can’t seriously intend to accept that, Finance Minister?”
“What’s not to accept? The Korean Empire is already under Japan’s thumb, and Lüshun is isolated from the mainland. With the Japanese Combined Fleet dominating the seas, it’s impossible to hold long-term.”
Lüshun was merely a leasehold, and Korea just a minor state under Russian influence.
In Witte’s view, it was better to return Lüshun to China, let Japan do as it pleased with Korea—annex it or make it a puppet—and focus on permanently incorporating North Manchuria and Mongolia into Russia like Primorye.
“Then we just reclaim sea control.”
But Bezobrazov thought differently from Witte.
Witte was willing to abandon Lüshun and Korea for the Empire’s benefit, but Bezobrazov couldn’t abandon them for his own profits.
He had far too many business ventures there to give up.
Thank goodness the Empire had leveraged German military aid to gain the upper hand; had they lost, Bezobrazov would be on the run from furious investors, just like in the original history.
But what was this nonsense?
They weren’t even losing, yet Witte was pushing to end the war via U.S. mediation—ceding Lüshun and Korea in exchange.
Britain would acquiesce to Russia taking North Manchuria and Mongolia, but that was none of Bezobrazov’s concern.
His entire business empire was at stake. What did the Empire’s interests matter?
In Bezobrazov’s eyes, Witte was simply trying to ruin him by sacrificing those territories.
Can’t let that happen.
That’s why Bezobrazov was determined to block any peace with Japan.
No—he aimed to secure victory, solidify his power, and oust Witte from politics entirely.
To that end, following Admiral Alexeyev’s advice, he proposed deploying the fleet stationed in the homeland.
According to the admiral, reclaiming sea control meant victory.
Of course, Bezobrazov gave no thought to the long, perilous journey from European Russia to the distant Far East.
This was his only way to protect his wealth.
“Is that even worth calling an argument?!”
But Witte still stood in his way.
Bezobrazov glared at him and shot back.
“Why not? Once our mighty Russian Baltic Fleet arrives in the Far East, it’ll link up with Admiral Makarov’s Pacific Fleet and send that insolent Japanese navy to the bottom!”
“Oh.”
Oblivious Nicholas II failed to read Witte’s murderous glare, his floppy ears perking up again as he nodded, as if Bezobrazov had a point.
Witte’s reaction went without saying.
“Your Majesty! No! To send a fleet to the Far East, we’d have to dispatch either the Baltic Fleet or the Black Sea Fleet. But the Black Sea Fleet can’t exit the Black Sea unless the Ottoman Empire opens the Bosphorus!”
“Then send the Baltic Fleet. It could annihilate the Japanese Combined Fleet in an instant.”
“Do you think the journey from the Baltic to the Far East is a stroll? It’ll take ages, and over that distance, more than half the fleet will drop out. The risks are too great!”
It might be different if the Pacific Fleet were annihilated, but it wasn’t.
The Baltic Fleet wasn’t the powerhouse Nicholas II and Bezobrazov imagined.
On the contrary, in terms of firepower, the Pacific and Black Sea Fleets were stronger.
Those fleets received priority for new ships due to threats from the Ottoman and Japanese navies, while the Baltic Fleet did not.
Thus, its ships were mostly outdated relics, compounded by the Russian Navy’s chronic corruption, low morale, and poor training. A Far East expedition was folly.
And Britain, already pressing for a quick armistice, wouldn’t sit idle.
Those pirates would sabotage the Baltic Fleet’s voyage by any means necessary.
Above all, Hans von Choi—that young German baron—won’t just watch this unfold.
This was betrayal, a clear violation of agreements.
Germany might intervene if mishandled.
“...But if it means victory, isn’t that risk worth taking? No need to abandon Lüshun or Korea.”
“Y-Your Majesty!”
“But...!”
Despite Witte’s fierce opposition, Nicholas II—as always—sided with Bezobrazov.
Lambsdorff recoiled in horror, trying to dissuade the Tsar, but to no avail.
All their hoarse efforts to convince him had gone up in smoke.
“...So Russia plans to send the Baltic Fleet to the Far East.”
I felt a throbbing headache coming on as I asked Nikolai Dmitrievich Osten-Sacken, the Russian ambassador to Germany.
The ambassador, clearly embarrassed by the affair, averted his gaze.
“Finance Minister Witte and Foreign Minister Lambsdorff asked me to convey their apologies.”
“Is this something an apology can fix? This is betrayal. Betrayal!”
I said the words, but I wasn’t truly angry at Witte.
He had at least tried to honor the agreement.
The real culprits were Nicholas II and Bezobrazov.
This deranged duo had shattered my multi-year plan right at the finish line.
In a way, it was impressive.
“Baron, Britain’s already caught wind of Russia’s moves and is asking what we intend to do.”
As if pouring oil on the fire, Foreign Minister Richthofen whispered in my ear.
Of course. With Russia suddenly reneging just as things were going smoothly, the British government must be apoplectic.
Still, we have to stop that Russian fleet.
If it lost to Japan like in the original history, that was trouble; if it won, even more so.
A Japanese victory would ease Britain’s wariness of the Russian Navy; a Russian one would make them too powerful.
Above all, the war’s perfect balance—ideal for armistice—would collapse in an instant.
It’s fine. There’s still a way.
“Ambassador, may I step aside for a moment?”
“Of course.”
After excusing myself to Osten-Sacken, I pulled Foreign Minister Richthofen aside to a quiet spot and whispered in his ear.
“Minister, if the Russian Empire dispatches a fleet, it’ll be the Baltic Fleet, right?”
“Naturally. The Black Sea Fleet can’t leave the Black Sea.”
“Britain will assume the same.”
“Probably...”
Richthofen eyed me suspiciously, wondering what I was getting at.
I smiled and said,
“Then tell Britain: if the Baltic Fleet sorties, our Imperial Navy will block it from exiting the Baltic Sea.”
“Block the Baltic Fleet to force negotiations and settle it diplomatically? But that puts too much burden on Germany.”
“It’s fine. In exchange for us blocking the Baltic Fleet, we ask Britain to handle the Black Sea Fleet if—by some chance—it moves. We shift the diplomatic burden onto Britain.”
“Wait, hold on. As I said, the Black Sea Fleet...”
Richthofen furrowed his brow in confusion, then realized my implication and gaped in disbelief.
“...Baron, you don’t mean what I think you mean, do you?”
“Probably exactly that.”
I took a short breath, meeting the Foreign Minister’s devilish stare, and slowly opened my mouth.
“Let’s open it. The Bosphorus.”