Balkan Hegemony (4)

Stalin stared at me with the eyes of a psychopath. Then, slowly, he began to speak, a faint glimmer of the same madness Hitler occasionally displayed reflecting in his gaze.

"Like the philosopher Descartes, I once doubted the very existence of this world. Does anything truly exist besides myself? Is my brain sitting in a vat, with some demon deceiving me with a false illusion called reality? At first, it was merely innocent philosophical curiosity. But as time went on, a certain thought took hold of me."

Though a bizarre, unsettling energy radiated from his eyes, Stalin's tone remained colder and more composed than anyone else's.

"...It is not a philosophical truth. It is my belief, my conviction. The existence of this world must be sustained by 'me.' Therefore, a world without me does not exist."

And then, Stalin smirked for the first time.

"A world without me shouldn't even exist."

Was this how Chen Gong felt when he watched Cao Cao ruthlessly slaughter Lü Boshe—the man who had treated him so well—and declare, 'I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me'?

"The world owes me a debt called 'existence.' Therefore, the world must love me. If I disappear, it must desperately yearn for me. That is my dream. Do you understand?"

What a terrifying bastard.

An anecdote about Stalin from World War II came to mind.

Stalin, who had gleefully boasted, 'I can manipulate Hitler's mind!' ended up getting spectacularly backstabbed by Hitler, who was twice as crazy as he was.

It was the first major setback for Stalin, whose warped ideology dictated that 'the world must exist for me.' His mental state shattered, Stalin shut himself inside his dacha.

Since all of Stalin's rivals had already been eliminated in the Great Purge, the massive empire faced total paralysis without him. The Communist Party officials had to visit his dacha ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and beg him to return.

Only then did Stalin return to state affairs with a satisfied smile, or so the story goes.

The more I chewed on his words, the more dangerous he seemed. I asked one final question to test him.

"Then, Mr. Stalin, what is it that you wish to achieve in the Agricultural Cooperative?"

"What else? The boundless love of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the people, and a level of responsibility that an ordinary man could never hope to bear."

"Is that truly all? Do you have any intention of killing those who might replace or threaten your existence? Do not even think of lying to me."

"If the situation calls for it...? I know what you are worried about. Rest easy. Being the absolute leader is merely a means, not the end."

I stared into Stalin's eyes, agonizing over the decision. Was it safe to keep such a cruel and dangerous man close by?

But then again, there was no other suitable candidate at the moment. What I liked most about him was that, unlike Hitler, he lacked that ruinous, innate talent for seizing absolute power. If he had any asset, it was perhaps his handsome face?

If things went south—say, if a coup erupted within the Empire—this wolf-like bastard would probably pounce. But if things ever deteriorated to that point, the Empire would be doomed anyway, so it didn't really matter.

"I will appoint you as the Commander of the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative's Revolutionary Guard."

"Thank you for your trust."

"I will be watching you."

"Of course."

I dispatched Stalin to Sarajevo, Bosnia, and sent a letter to Archduke Karl warning him to be cautious. Let's just think of him as a sharp blade.

Just as Stahl had hoped, Stalin performed his role as a 'sharp blade' flawlessly. His experience operating with the Red Army in Siberia proved immensely useful along the Bosnian-Serbian border.

"Are you preparing for war or what?! The Empire must withdraw its troops from the border immediately!"

"Haha, you must be mistaken. Those deployed at the border are not the military, but a local militia. Think of them as security guards at a bank."

"What kind of bank security guards ride around heavily armed on horseback, patrolling back and forth across the border?!"

"As you well know, the situation in Bosnia is highly volatile because of a certain neighbor. Surely Serbia—ah, excuse me, Yugoslavia—has mounted police as well?"

Seeing the Serbian diplomat's eyes roll back in sheer fury, it was clear the psychological warfare was working beautifully.

As expected of someone with experience running a guerrilla organization, even if only for a short time, Stalin possessed a natural talent for getting under the enemy's skin along the border.

Winning over the border locals. Slipping across the border 'by accident' and feigning ignorance. Fleeing and hiding the moment the exasperated Serbians brought in their border guards. Firing off random gunshots under the guise of 'hunting.'

"The Bosnian Revolutionary Guard has appeared near the border! Approximately two hundred men carrying rifles are moving along the border on bicycles!"

"......Wake everyone up. We deploy immediately. What is the Revolutionary Guard's excuse this time?"

"They claim that cycling is currently all the rage in Hungary, sir."

"Those crazy bastards! Riding bicycles at two in the morning with rifles slung over their shoulders?!"

Thanks to Stalin, the Serbian border guards couldn't get a single wink of sleep at night. Yet, even under this constant threat, it was no easy task for Serbia to pull troops from the Balkan front to reinforce the Bosnian border.

"That Habsburg lantern-jawed commie is openly provoking our motherland into war! We must retaliate immediately!"

"Then let us withdraw at least one division from the Balkans and deploy them to the border."

"N-No, we cannot! The Greek army is wearing Ottoman uniforms and constantly picking fights. The moment we pull even a single division, we will lose all the territory we seized from the Ottoman Empire to Greece!"

With the Greek army keeping them in check, Serbia couldn't afford to move a large force. Still, with a bunch of armed lunatics masquerading as a militia loitering right at their doorstep, they couldn't leave the border undefended either. Ultimately, Serbia had no choice but to swallow the loss and deploy troops to the Bosnian border.

In the original history, the Ottoman Empire suffered consecutive defeats against the allied forces, bringing the war to a swift end. But this Balkan War was different. Granted, the Ottoman Empire was still putting up an embarrassingly pathetic performance. However...

"The Serbians are attacking the Ottomans! We must join forces with the Ottomans and help them immediately!"

"You heard him! Hurry up and change into those captured Ottoman uniforms!"

In this manner, the Greeks disrupted every single battle. Of course, the Serbians weren't exactly playing fair either. Serbia had its own specialty: committing sabotage through the numerous spies they had planted deep within the Greek army.

After a few rounds of mutual interference, both sides abandoned all pretense of deception and began clashing openly within Ottoman territory.

"Serbian forces spotted ahead!"

"General! We don't have time to change into Ottoman uniforms. Shall we let them pass this time?"

"No. Avoid direct engagement. Just give them a warm welcome with the artillery."

"Is that wise, sir?"

"We can just excuse ourselves by saying we thought they were Turkish troops because of the distance. Fire!"

While they avoided direct infantry firefights, they repeatedly carried out artillery bombardments that were 'absolutely unintentional.' Meanwhile, what was Bulgaria doing?

"It is reported that the Greeks and Serbians have clashed once again, Your Majesty."

"We shall seize this opportunity to occupy all of Macedonia!"

"The international community may condemn us."

"It matters not. Since His Majesty has supported Albanian independence, Austria and Germany will surely tolerate our acquisition of Macedonia!"

Bulgaria secured control over Macedonia at a speed that would put the Japanese army's historic speedrun to Hanseong to shame. And with that...

Stalin, seemingly emboldened, escalated his provocations, forcing Serbia to take a step back. In the end, the only ones reaping the benefits were Austria-Hungary and Bulgaria.

However, true to its militaristic nature, Serbia gradually gained the upper hand over Greece. To make matters worse, intelligence on the Greek army kept leaking to the Serbian side, causing Greece to steadily lose ground.

Upon receiving Stalin's telegram, Stahl fell into deep thought. At this rate, we won't be able to cause any more trouble at the border. Is there a better way?

Stahl soon hit upon a brilliant idea and wired a reply to Stalin.

Despite the sluggish progress of the front, the Serbian army was slowly but surely pushing the Greeks back. In terms of overall national power, they were neck and neck, but Greece held the advantage at sea, while Serbia was far stronger on land. With Serbia dominating the intelligence war, Greece's retreat was inevitable.

"First, dispatch the fleet to Montenegro to conduct a show of force."

"But we haven't even declared war yet! The international community will condemn us!"

"No declaration of war? This is practically a war already!"

"But the maintenance costs..."

"Just deploy them! Our country is on the verge of ruin!"

The Greek National Revolutionary Republic had barely been founded six months ago. They already suffered from a severe lack of legitimacy; if they were to be crushed by Serbian country bumpkins, the Republic would collapse instantly, and the entire nation would fall to the southward-advancing Serbians.

"We must win at all costs. No, we don't even need to win! Just drag them down and hold them back!"

A state is not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sustained by wealth and military power alone. In truth, wealth and military power are nothing. The most crucial element is the intangible authority—the perception that 'he can exert force upon me at any moment.' While wealth and military power are essential to support that authority, they alone can never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠secure it.

The Greek National Revolutionary Republic was utterly starved of legitimacy. In this situation, they desperately needed the European great powers to recognize them as the 'successors of the Eastern Roman Empire.' Only then could the Republic survive.

"...If worst comes to worst, we must even consider an alliance with the Ottoman Empire."

"That is out of the question!"

"I would rather sell out to the Ottomans and die at the hands of the Greek public than watch our country be torn apart by the Slavs."

Just as Greece was drowning in despair, a message arrived from the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

"A message has arrived from the Empire, sir. They are asking if we are interested in purchasing aircraft."

"What? Buy them immediately!"

Already starved of reconnaissance assets, Greece scraped together every last penny to purchase ten 'agricultural surveying' aircraft from the Hungarian Agricultural Cooperative. The price was an absolute rip-off, of course, but Greece had no other choice.

And strictly speaking, those planes wouldn't be surveying Greek farmland, would they? They would generously survey agricultural lands all across the Balkan Peninsula. If they happened to capture images of the Serbian army conducting a Special Military Operation on those farmlands, well, so be it.

Unfortunately, they missed out on the title of the first aircraft to be used in actual combat, as planes were already being trialed on the Libyan front between Italy and the Ottoman Empire.

However, it was at least the first time aircraft were used for military purposes in the Balkan Peninsula. No, let me correct myself. Technically, the Greek planes were merely surveying the Ottoman Empire's farmlands on their behalf.

Vrooooom.

Aircraft of this era flew at low altitudes, and camera technology was quite primitive, meaning they had to fly even lower to conduct effective reconnaissance. However, that did not mean the aircraft lacked power.

"The Serbian army is maneuvering their troops around the hill to the west."

"Move our forces to the west immediately! Numbers alone do not guarantee victory. You just need to deploy more troops than the enemy in any single engagement!"

"According to the photographs, Serbian cavalry is lying in ambush near the river!"

"We launch a counterattack. Getting hit while waiting in ambush will hurt them twice as much."

The moment a plane took to the skies, the Serbian army's movements were laid bare. Even if aerial bombing was still out of the question, the aircraft did not limit themselves to mere reconnaissance.

People often assume that airplanes were the first to utilize the skies in warfare. They are wrong. Hot air balloons had already been used for reconnaissance for quite some time. And so, the Greeks flew up in their planes armed with rifles, shooting down every single hot air balloon they could find.

"Our hot air balloons are all being shot down, sir."

"Damn it! Do they have any idea how much a single balloon costs?!"

No matter how many spies Serbia had planted, how could they possibly compete with aerial reconnaissance? Furthermore, Serbia had no way of stopping the planes. To counter an aircraft, one needed an aircraft of their own. Lacking planes, the Serbians could only fire blindly into the sky, praying for a lucky hit.

Having instantly seized absolute aerial supremacy, Greece pushed the front line back and advanced north. Though the Greek army was still far from completely overwhelming Serbia, Stahl still had plenty of tricks left up his sleeve.