Eve of the Great War (5)
When discussing Führer Apis, one cannot ignore his mental illness. Tedious as it may be, how can one talk about a madman without delving into psychoanalysis? Delusional disorder patients are among the most difficult to treat. If a delusional person's fantasies are attacked by reality, the delusion only strengthens. Conversely, if their desires are fulfilled, the delusion is also reinforced. Both success and failure serve to validate their delusions. Therefore, the only effective cure for such a patient is none other than the National Spirit Injection Rod that Führer Apis himself devised.
"Milovanović! Thanks to your quick wit, those British bastards are groveling before us! We have won a great victory because of you."
"You flatter me, sir."
"To hell with it, I'm in a good mood! Reinstate Deputy Foreign Minister Milovanović to his original post as Foreign Minister immediately."
"H-haha... T-thank you, sir! I will serve you with my life!"
"You all see that? I am a man who strictly separates public duty from personal feelings. Even if someone has a problematic background like Milovanović, they can be promoted like this if they prove their merit."
Was this a cabinet responsible for a nation, or a gang of thugs? Regardless, the moderates, including Milovanović, had managed to halt Serbia's runaway train—and had even found themselves in Führer Apis's good graces. His mood lifted, Führer Apis began playing his world-building games again.
"Why on earth is Britain cooperating so actively with our Serbia?"
"W-well, because the Anglo-Saxons are a second-class Slavic race..."
"Rejected. Stop spouting such delusional nonsense and give me a realistic answer."
Why is Apis suddenly acting like this? He was the one babbling about Freemasons and Slavic bloodlines just a moment ago. The bureaucrat shut his mouth tight and stared at Apis.
"Indeed, none of you know, do you? Allow me to explain. Britain rules the world's oceans. Correct?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"No matter how powerful the British fleet is, they cannot police all five oceans and seven continents. Correct?"
"Correct, sir!"
"Therefore, Britain simply does not have the luxury to worry about the Balkans. They weren't nearly as strong as we thought. Correct?"
At this final question, beads of sweat broke out on the bureaucrats' foreheads. To survive under Führer Apis—who was as fickle as a mob boss and suffered from severe delusional disorder—one had to be exceptionally quick-witted. They already anticipated what the Führer was going to say next.
"That's right, we've got them by the throat. Those British bastards never had the ability to project their influence all the way to the Balkans! That's why they pulled that ridiculous stunt with the peacekeeping forces!"
"Führer Apis, by any chance, do you mean to take this opportunity to unify the Balkans?"
"Exactly! First, we completely crush our arch-nemesis, Greece. With this momentum, we will march into Greece and—"
"You cannot do that!"
In an instant, the Deputy—no, Foreign Minister Milovanović—clapped a hand over his own mouth. But the desperate cry that had already escaped his lips could not be taken back. A terrifying silence descended. Apis bared his fangs and grinned like a lion that had spotted its prey.
"It seems we need to appoint a new Foreign Minister."
"That is not what I meant, Führer! The moment we cross the Greek border, there is no way the British will stand idly by! I only spoke out of loyalty, m-mph, mmph!"
"I had no idea a Freemason spy was hiding in this very cabinet."
"Please, not the concentration camps... mmph!"
"If anyone other than this Freemason agent has an objection, speak up quickly."
Who could possibly object now? Thus, by order of Führer Apis, Serbia crossed the Greek border and began its headlong dash toward Athens.
"..."
"..."
Sir Cartwright, the British Minister, and I sat facing each other in awkward silence until our tea grew cold. It seemed this Englishman still hadn't fully come to his senses. Too embarrassed to let the words "please help us" pass his lips, he was waiting for me to speak first. How long was he going to keep his mouth shut and act like a pouting child when he was the one who had messed up? Feeling my irritation rise, I spoke first.
"I must admit, I am surprised to see the Minister visit such a humble corporate office."
"I merely thought we might have a casual chat regarding peace in the Balkans."
"If it concerns diplomacy, I believe you should have a more in-depth discussion with the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs."
"W-well, about that..."
The Minister had undoubtedly visited the Ministry of Foreign Affairs already. And, just as I had instructed, he must have been told to "let Greece and Yugoslavia handle it themselves" before being promptly shown the door.
"Just do what your country always does. Haven't I already given you the lead?"
"The lead?"
"Those testimonies. Declare that you cannot stand by and watch a regime build concentration camps and massacre its own citizens. Proclaim that you will deliver British democracy to the Balkans, and so on. Then, simply dispatch a mere ten thousand troops."
"I am afraid that is... difficult."
"There is another way. You don't even need to crush all of Serbia. If you take out Montenegro, Serbia's puppet, Serbia will wither away on its own. Of course, you would first need to dispatch defensive forces to Greece."
"T-that is also..."
The signature trait of British diplomacy was starting to show. Barging in uninvited, throwing the geopolitical landscape into absolute chaos, and then quietly slipping away as if they had done nothing wrong! Still, the fact that he had visited our Empire with some intent to resolve this made him better than usual. After all, Britain and Russia were allies. Britain had to clean up the mess it had made in the Balkans. Of course, the Triple Entente between Britain, France, and Russia was a bizarre alliance. Britain and Russia constantly clashed over warm-water ports. Britain and France constantly clashed over global colonies. How could such an alliance even exist? Their only shared goal was keeping Germany in check. For that purpose alone, these three nations were willing to act as one. Yet, they were bound to clash on every other issue. The Balkan crisis was no exception. The moment Britain set foot in the Balkans, Russia would foam at the mouth, the Triple Entente would shatter that very day, and Russia would align with Germany. But they couldn't just let Russian-backed Serbia run wild in the Balkans either. This was the dilemma of the Triple Entente. Britain could never project direct power into the Balkans. The Russian Empire was both an ally and a potential enemy. The Ottoman Empire, having lost even the Balkans, was in a precarious state with Iraq, Lebanon, and Syria hanging by a thread. The Kingdom of Italy was in no position to exert influence in the Balkans either. Consequently, Britain had no choice but to approach our Empire.
"I have given you all the solutions. I apologize for being nothing more than a mere corporate representative. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is far more expert in these matters, so please consult them. Have a safe trip back."
"...Let us negotiate."
Just as I was about to show Cartwright the door, he finally swallowed his pride as a diplomat of a great power and proposed a negotiation. Yes, that's more like it.
"The situation is simple. First, may I offer a piece of personal advice?"
"Of course."
"By now, your country must have realized what kind of people the Serbians are. The moment the war stops going their way, they will commit some erratic act."
"What kind of erratic act?"
"Regrettably, I do not know."
In the original history, they shot Archduke Franz Ferdinand. I had no idea what they would do this time.
"In any case, if they commit an act that is practically tantamount to a declaration of war, we will have no choice but to declare war on Serbia. What will Russia do then?"
"They will undoubtedly order a general mobilization."
"And Germany?"
"...They will declare war on Russia in turn to aid your country."
Only then did Sir Cartwright's face stiffen as he realized the true nature of the great war that would engulf all of Europe. As expected of an Englishman, he was quick on the uptake. Regardless, I continued my explanation.
"Oh dear! Germany has attacked Russia. An event that must absolutely never happen has occurred. What will Britain and France do then?"
"...Good heavens. Surely it won't go that far? The responsibility for the war would lie entirely with Yugoslavia—no, Serbia!"
"Since when did such details matter to your country? What happens if Germany gains the upper hand against Russia?"
"Even if it escalates to that extent, the war will be over in a short time."
"It seems that, as a Western European, you are quite ignorant of Stahlism. Germany has already developed various skirmish and breakthrough tactics in preparation for trench warfare."
With those words, silence descended once more. Like the sharp British diplomat he was, Sir Cartwright instantly understood what that silence demanded. He was a member of the Liberal Party. He would be relatively moderate compared to the hardline Conservatives on continental issues. Being dragged into a war was the absolute last thing he wanted.
"I understand what you mean. You are asking Britain to remain neutral if Serbia's provocations escalate into a massive war, correct? Even so, we cannot simply stand by and watch German expansion over a mere Balkan issue."
"I am well aware. We are simply asking you to recognize our 'exclusive rights'—at least in the Balkans."
"..."
Sir Cartwright pondered for a long time before hastily departing, saying he would contact his home government. Hmm, I wonder what choice they will make. Of course, no official diplomatic documents had been sent. They were allied with Russia, after all. However, Britain always showed its hand through action. What use were trivial documents? An overwhelming fleet and naval guns changed everything.
"Defend the motherland from the Slavs!"
"We are the warriors of Constantine and the defenders of the Theodosian Walls! We shall not suffer the humiliation of losing our homeland again!"
"Aaaaargh!"
Having crossed the Greek border, Serbia had already proven its army's overwhelming superiority over Greece's. Even so, the fighting on the Greek mainland was far from easy.
"Ambush detected at one o'clock! It's the Wall Guard!"
"When will these bastards stop ambushing us? Pursue them immediately!"
However, that 'Wall Guard' had actively absorbed the advanced guerrilla tactics developed in Hungary. They would appear in a flash, unleash a volley of gunfire upon the Serbian regulars, and vanish into the villages and forests. Of course, such guerrilla tactics were nothing new to the Serbian forces, who had faced them frequently while pushing down the Balkan Peninsula. But the battlefield had changed. In mountainous terrain and urban areas, the effectiveness of guerrilla tactics multiplied. Even if the Serbian army managed to enter a city, the city itself seemed to harbor malice, endlessly tormenting them.
"Führer Apis, our advance is slowing due to the nature of the Greek terrain! The Greek forces are fighting to the death."
"Those mountain hillbillies are being a nuisance to the very end. No matter! Ignore minor casualties and charge straight for Athens! Once we capture Athens, those bandits will turn into nothing but pirates!"
Serbia continued its relentless breakthrough toward Athens, even at the cost of devastating casualties. They had already crossed the border, and their losses were piling up. The sunk cost had accumulated to a level that a single nation could barely endure. Could they afford to give up now? With the Greek naval blockade broken, this was their final opportunity. And then, acting in place of the meager Greek navy, the British Royal Navy blockaded Montenegro.
"W-what is the meaning of this? Lift the naval blockade immediately! This is not what we agreed upon!"
"A naval blockade? And when did we ever make any agreement with Serbia?"
"Y-you filthy Germanic bastards! We are not Serbia, we are Yugoslavia! Are you Freemasons too?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
Once again, the sea was blockaded. No, this time, it wasn't just the sea.
"I have no idea what the Kingdom of Romania wants. Are you also part of the National Revolutionary Party that beats people to death with clubs?"
The Kingdom of Romania was located north of Serbia. As a Latin nation, Romania was a sworn enemy of Slavic Russia, with whom reconciliation was impossible. Conversely, its relationship with Austria, which had a large Romanian population, was also highly ambiguous. In short, they maintained an awkward neutrality. Thus, their only role in the war had been keeping the railway from Russia to Serbia open. However, the moment they saw Britain completely cut ties with Serbia, Romania's attitude did a complete 180-degree turn. Of course, Romania was a minor nation that Russia could swallow in a single bite. They had no choice but to adopt a passive stance this time as well. Nevertheless, disrupting and delaying land trade between Serbia and Russia was hardly a difficult task. With all trade routes severed, a severe famine instantly swept through Serbia. The end of the war was drawing near. Or perhaps, it was only the beginning.