Deus Vult
The symbol of Russia, the Tsar, had been bitten to death by a dog he raised with his own hands. From the late Prime Minister Stolypin and various aristocratic bureaucrats to the republicans and even the Stahlists—who could be considered the Tsar's enemies—everyone had realized that these people were out of their minds and had tried to stop them. Yet, consumed by the self-righteousness and arrogance of believing, "I am special, I see through the wisdom of the world!" the Tsar had ultimately fostered his own traitors. In any case, the Tsar's death could be called his own doing.
While it was closer to a madman's chaotic riot than a proper coup, it still met the bare minimum requirements: a covert strike by a small elite force to rapidly seize the organs of power. Furthermore, the coup took place in 1913, the very year of the Romanov Tercentenary. Because the Russian territory was so vast, the vast majority of the imperial family had gathered in St. Petersburg, which was the single greatest factor in the coup's success. It was highly reminiscent of the Aung San Temple bombing, where North Korea nearly succeeded in assassinating Chun Doo-hwan. Not only Tsarevich Aleksei Nikolaevich, but also a multitude of influential imperial figures were staying in the capital.
If socialism was the political system best suited for total war, then perhaps national revolution—which slowly ate away at a nation's roots before executing the emperor—was the political system best suited for a coup.
"...His Majesty the Tsar is dead?"
"We must subjugate those traitors immediately!"
"They have crowned the Tsarevich as the new Tsar, taken the imperial family hostage, and are controlling the area around St. Petersburg."
"We must manage the chaos first! We should establish a provisional government in Moscow and crown another Tsar."
"What? Are you a traitor too?!"
It was a deformed government structure where all power was concentrated in the Russian Tsar. The nobles had always wanted to obstruct everything the Tsar did, but now that he was actually gone, they fell into deep panic. Ultimately, to hold power in the Russian 'Empire,' they needed a Tsar—unless they swept everything away with a revolution.
"His Majesty is in St. Petersburg anyway. I will join the new National Revolutionary government."
"What?! We need to rescue His Majesty right now! What kind of nonsense is that, you traitor!"
"And if we gather our divisions and besiege St. Petersburg? That madman Roman von Ungern-Sternberg said he will execute the Romanov royals one by one in order of succession. What will you do then?"
"..."
"Aren't you the real traitor for trying to launch a republican revolution using this opportunity? I will rescue the Tsar from within St. Petersburg."
There were even nobles who joined the National Revolutionary regime simply because they couldn't secure a single royal of their own. Although Roman von Ungern-Sternberg was carrying out a mass slaughter in St. Petersburg, in Russia, massacres in the capital were practically a national pastime—just as strikes, barricades, and revolutions were in Paris. It had been less than ten years since the Bloody Sunday incident. Furthermore, Nicholas II's popularity had plummeted so low that many actually pinned their hopes on Aleksei Nikolaevich, whom the National Revolutionaries had propped up.
But were the nobles and bourgeoisie opposing the National Revolution truly innocent? Many among the common people preferred to join the National Revolutionary camp, which at least made their hearts swell with national pride. On top of that, the first institution the conspirators seized during the coup was not the imperial palace, but the Moscow Patriarchate of the Orthodox Church. Even religious legitimacy lay with the National Revolutionary forces.
"Nicholas II is dead!"
"Now is our chance for independence."
"Long live Warsaw! Long live Poland!"
When St. Petersburg erupted, there was another place that erupted in tandem: Warsaw, Poland. In fact, the moment Germany detected the political upheaval in Russia, they swiftly loaded the Polish female warrior Rosa Luxemburg onto a train and dropped her into Warsaw. A rebellion far greater than the 1905 Revolution broke out in Warsaw.
"Our National Revolutionary Party has dispatched the majority of our forces to Warsaw to protect the pride of the Slavic people!"
"Long live the National Revolution! Crush the Polish rebels!"
Having taken the imperial family hostage, they now held Poland hostage as well. They were projecting a subtle threat: "Hey, we sent our army to Poland out of patriotism. Are you really going to attack us now? Seriously?" The National Revolutionary Party had nothing to lose. Since they held the Romanov family hostage, it didn't matter if only a small force remained to guard the capital.
"It makes absolutely no sense, but..."
"It seems those filthy traitors have the upper hand."
Everything was turning in favor of those National Revolutionary bastards. Frankly, it was bound to be that way. From the very moment they gained the Tsar's trust until now, those men had probably thought of nothing but launching a coup to overthrow the government. To watch such despicable scum seize power right before their eyes—the anti-National Revolutionary faction could only despair.
The anti-National Revolutionary faction, centered around General Aleksei Brusilov in Kiev and General Lavr Kornilov in the Far East, gathered in Moscow and named themselves the White Army.
"We... we must find legitimacy too."
"Then isn't a republican revolution the only answer?"
"...No, that won't do. Even now, the military and bureaucrats who hold armed power are defecting to the traitors one by one."
"We need a Romanov too. We need a Tsar!"
Ultimately, they decided to crown another Tsar. However, the vast majority of viable successors to the throne were imprisoned in St. Petersburg. The only ones left were royals who had been completely cast aside from the beginning.
"Who are the remaining royals?"
"They are either fools, politically indifferent, or extremists."
"...No. Actually, this might be our chance."
"Hmm?"
"Look. This might be the exact moment we can introduce the constitutionalism we have long yearned for."
Why had the absolute monarch suppressed liberalism so fiercely? Because some nobles had attempted to ally with the liberals to limit the Tsar's authority. Perhaps some of these nobles dreamed of running the state themselves while keeping the monarch as a mere puppet, much like in Britain or Japan.
"Why has Russia ended up in this state today? A competent Tsar is great, but haven't we just seen how a single incompetent Tsar can ruin centuries of imperial legacy in an instant?"
"...True. It takes ages to build a tower, but an instant is enough to tear it down."
"Isn't it time we follow Peter the Great's example and adopt the advanced British system, a 'constitutional monarchy'?"
The National Revolutionary Party had always found opportunity in crisis. Why couldn't the White Army do the same? Among the royals who had not been detained in St. Petersburg, they looked for someone who possessed a decent imperial bearing, was suitably indifferent to politics, and was reasonably young. Thus, they found Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, a man of fiery temperament who was renowned more as a sports star than a politician.
In the original history, he was the figure who, disgusted by Rasputin, shot him dead and fled to Persia. On the other hand, he was so politically indifferent that he did not participate in the White Army at all during the Russian Civil War. In other words, he was a man who lacked political ambition but possessed immense majesty. Was he not perfect for a constitutional monarch?
With General Aleksei Brusilov and General Lavr Kornilov from the military, the liberal bureaucrat Alexander Protopopov, the Menshevik factions, and the Constitutional Democratic Party, they managed to assemble a proper front to oppose the National Revolutionary Black Army. Russia had plunged into civil war.
I, of course, had lost my father-in-law, Chairman Karl Wittgenstein. But even by the most generous estimates, the chairman had been a sick, elderly man with barely six months left to live. How could my grief compare to the sorrow of Archduke Franz Ferdinand? He had lost his wife, Sophie Chotek, with whom he had braved countless trials just to have their marriage recognized, and his brother, Archduke Otto, with whom he bickered constantly but had recently come to rely upon deeply.
"...I am sorry, Your Imperial Highness. It is my fault for underestimating Serbia."
"Why would I expect an apology from you? Let it be."
They say that when one is extremely angry, they become calm instead. Archduke Franz Ferdinand's eyes were cold as ice, looking as if his soul had departed, much like Joseph Stalin's.
"I truly, truly have no intention of leaving a single Slavic piece of trash alive on this earth."
"Your Highness!"
"In the ancient Middle East, when one lost a loved one, there was a custom of burying their companions alive with them. If I offer the corpses of Slavs as grave goods, will Sophie Chotek be able to close her eyes in peace?"
"Your Highness, please calm yourself. The Archduchess would be grieved to hear this."
"Haha, indeed. In truth, this is my personal vengeance. I merely wish to inflict the exact same pain I feel upon them."
"Your Imperial Highness!"
The last shout did not come from me. It was Adolf Hitler, who was attending the funeral. Hitler's eyes rolled back upon hearing these dark words, and he looked ready to grab Archduke Franz Ferdinand by the collar.
"Your Highness, have you lost your mind?"
"W-What?"
"The Archduke I know is not such a cruel man. I sympathize deeply with your grief, but you are the protector and father of this Empire. You must not do this."
"..."
"If Your Highness goes down this path, I will throw away my position as the Cooperative Leader of the Agricultural Association!"
It was a moment where Hitler's petty-bourgeois sensibility shone. I chimed in to support him.
"Do not worry, we will incinerate every piece of trash involved in the Black Hand and the Serbian government. I will also fulfill your wish to erase 'Slavs' as a political entity."
"Director Stahl! What on earth do you mean by...!"
"I will pretend I didn't hear that talk about corpses as grave goods. The new world we build will have neither Germans nor Slavs. There will only be exploiters and the exploited."
Hearing the sharp rebukes from Hitler and me, Archduke Franz Ferdinand finally came to his senses.
"...Forgive me. I made a disgraceful display of myself."
"It is fine. Anyone in your position would have done the same."
After composing himself, Archduke Franz Ferdinand stepped up to deliver the funeral eulogy. There was no better orator in the Empire.
"...I am no different from you. By the grace of God, I was fortunate enough to become the Archduke, but I too am merely a human being. A human grieving the loss of family and loved ones. A victim of the hatred rampant in this world. A lamb of God placed in a pain too great for a human to bear. In that regard, you and I are no different."
"Do you remember Director Stahl's Nobel Prize speech? Looking back at history, all wars have causes on both sides. They arose from conflicts over limited resources. However, that history is about to collapse. For no reason other than a difference in skin color or language, they seek to brutally murder one another."
Tens of thousands of citizens gathered in Vienna for the funeral. They grieved the deaths of Wittgenstein, Sophie Chotek, and Archduke Otto. They felt Archduke Franz Ferdinand's emotions deeply, hanging on every single word.
"An unprecedented force of evil is about to plague this world. As the protector of the Empire and a son of God, I cannot stand by and watch these hordes of Satan. We are justice. We alone are justice! God is with us! From this moment on, I shall temporarily lay down my title as the protector of the Empire. My subjects, I beg your forgiveness. However, I am now the protector of justice. We are the Crusaders executing the wrath of God! God wills it!"
At this moment, Archduke Franz Ferdinand exuded an aura rivaling, if not exceeding, Hitler's. The wrath of God, the will of God, seeped into Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the crowd listening to him. Even I, listening to the speech, was trembling all over with extreme exhilaration.
"I declare here and now: we will declare war on Serbia. We will show that wicked Satan, Serbia, which dares to call itself Yugoslavia, exactly what price they must pay for betraying justice! Long live the Empire! Long live the Crusaders!"
"Waaaaaa!"
"Long live the Empire! Long live the Crusaders!"
From that day on, the alliance of the Central Powers was officially named the Crusaders. Along with the Russian civil war between the Blacks and Whites, the war to end all wars in Europe was about to begin.