Chapter 977 - 200: Reunion After a Long Separation
To be honest, William didn’t quite believe that this "trump card" left by his father could truly reverse the situation.
So far, this has been the largest and most powerful war ever fought in the world.
Compared to this war, any previous conflict pales into insignificance.
Just as his cousin had said, a single divine artifact or an arsenal that could once turn the tide of events could hardly compare to the millions of Russian troops on the Eastern Front, ten-odd divine artifacts, and thousands of casters.
Returning to the command post, William carefully took out a wooden box from his suitcase. After a series of cumbersome unlocking procedures, he finally opened the box.
There wasn’t any anticipated dazzling light or myriad visions.
Inside the box lay a thin sheet of paper, quietly.
The Master of the Tower of Babel...
Upon recognizing the words on it, William was momentarily shaken. The Legend of the Tower of Babel had been around for a long time. It was rumored that a small overseas state, Texas, had nearly annihilated the UK’s overseas expedition army with the help of the Tower of Babel a few years back.
How exactly did father end up making a contract with the Tower of Babel?
As he hesitated, unsure how to use the contract, the contract paper spontaneously combusted, and in mere moments, it turned into ashes and disappeared without a trace.
Nothing happened.
Within the command post, his room remained empty, without even a trace of ash left behind.
William looked somewhat bewilderedly at the scene: "Is it just gone like this?"
"Little William?"
A familiar voice, as if spanning a light-year, suddenly rang out behind him.
Little?
William was nearing sixty and would have been a gray-haired, old man by now if not for practicing the family’s Knight’s Breathing Technique.
William’s body stiffened slightly, incredulously turning back to see a young female knight with a fallow deer hood and long platinum hair, standing in the sunlight, giving him a sweet smile.
"Sister..."
He opened his mouth incredulously: "Am I dreaming?"
The sister who had been missing for over thirty years had appeared again.
...
Schönbrunn Palace.
Crown Prince Rudolf gazed at this magnificent palace, the most splendid in all of Europe, and sighed softly. To his surprise, upon returning to his hometown, the first place he found himself was the palace where he had lived since childhood.
The two palace gendarmes at the gate were caught mid-yawn when a stranger appeared out of thin air. They immediately raised their weapons and shouted, "Stop, don’t move!"
Their official designation was the "Emperor and King’s Infantry Guard," an essential component of the commonly known Imperial Guard.
"Quick, notify Count Dankele!"
"Yes, there’s only one intruder, but his way of appearing was so bizarre; he’s definitely not an ordinary person!"
Upon receiving the news, Count Dankele, the head of the Royal Guards, reacted as if facing a formidable enemy. He quickly gathered over ten experts of the First Gun Cavalry Guard to surround the man, who had made no other movements since appearing.
"Intruder, state your purpose!"
Dankele drew his pistol, speaking sternly: "How did you appear here, who is your accomplice?"
As the head of the Royal Guards, allowing such a dangerous element to appear in the inner palace was a significant blemish on his career.
Rudolf surveyed the unfamiliar faces. All members of the First Gun Cavalry Guard were noble offspring, but he didn’t recognize any of them.
This was his first experience of what it meant for things to change profoundly over time.
"According to the captain, twenty-eight years have passed."
He murmured to himself, his eyes eventually settling on a face that was both familiar and strange: "Is that you, Albrecht?"
The officer’s face showed a perplexed expression. He scrutinized Rudolf for a long time, his pupils suddenly dilating, somewhat incredulous: "Are you... the Crown Prince?"
Count Dankele frowned, saying: "Have you lost your mind? The Crown Prince is in the Mirror Hall discussing matters with His Majesty."
Albrecht von Berg, once a young officer with a promising future, was unfortunately marginalized due to involvement in the disappearance case of His Majesty the Emperor’s sole heir, Crown Prince Rudolf, and spent over twenty years on the sidelines.
Albrecht, carrying a long-suppressed joy, was completely without his usual humility and low profile. His voice trembled: "It’s Crown Prince Rudolf! Quick, send someone to inform His Majesty, Crown Prince Rudolf, who has been missing for over twenty years, has returned!"
Count Dankele’s expression changed slightly. He looked Rudolf up and down and suddenly revealed a look of realization: "Oh, so it’s you colluding with outsiders, trying to deceive me with the long-missing Crown Prince Rudolf. Do you take me for a brainless fool?"
"When Crown Prince Rudolf disappeared, he was already middle-aged. By now, he would likely be a man in his sixties. How could he still be so young?"
He angrily reprimanded, ordering his subordinates to tie up Albrecht.
"Stop!"
Rudolf calmly said: "As the Chief of Guards, your first action should be to send someone to inform my father, and then invite those who can recognize me. There are many ways in this world to maintain one’s youthful appearance. Your suspicion is correct, but how can you be so sure Albrecht is lying based solely on your own conjectures?"
Count Dankele was momentarily stunned, likely because Rudolf spoke with such confidence. Furthermore, an intrusion into the inner palace without a sound is a significant matter that should indeed be reported to the Emperor.
He hesitated for a moment but ultimately instructed: "Go inform His Majesty and tell him someone claiming to be Crown Prince Rudolf, and certified by Albrecht, has suddenly appeared out of nowhere outside the palace gates."
...
In the Mirror Hall.
The Emperor was receiving the emissary from the Ottoman Empire.
Emissary Ahmed solemnly stated: "Talat Pasha sends his most sincere regards to Your Majesty and the Crown Prince."
At this moment, Mahmud V of the Ottomans had become a puppet, with military and political affairs controlled by the Tripartite Alliance of Talat Pasha, Enver Pasha, and Jemal Pasha.
"Please also convey my greetings to your master."
After a round of standard, lengthy diplomatic pleasantries, the young Crown Prince watching from the side felt quite annoyed: "Rather than verbal greetings, I am more interested in knowing when your country will fulfill its promise to join the war?"
It was universally acknowledged that the Ottomans would inevitably join the war.
Twelve Russian-Turkish wars had long proven that only one of these ancient empires could survive.
Ahmed bitterly smiled: "I swear by the sacred flame, my master hopes more than anyone that your country will win this brutal war. However, the joint fleet of France and Tsarist Russia is rampant in the Mediterranean, flaunting its power daily, while our national coastline is so extensive. Once we enter the war, our coastal areas are bound to suffer significant attacks at the very first moment."
The old Emperor glanced disapprovingly at his young Crown Prince. Compared to Ferdinand, who often contradicted him and had drastically different political views, Crown Prince Karl was undoubtedly more to the old Emperor’s liking, but he doubted Karl’s ability to uphold this beleaguered Empire.
"No matter, it is alright if your country does not enter the war for now. However, I hope your country can exert greater pressure on the Allies in the Caucasus and Balkans, and can also supply us with a batch of grain and raw materials."
After the Mediterranean was cut off, Debang and Bulgaria together entirely occupied Serbia in the second year of the war, opening up a route to the Ottoman Empire.
The Ottoman Empire’s "Baghdad Railway" thus became the overland lifeline between the East and the Allies, continuously transporting cotton, wool, grain, and other raw materials to the Allies while exchanging them for many of Debang’s military equipment and industrial products.
Karl was somewhat puzzled. Over three years, the Ottomans had reaped significant profits from this deal, and their war preparations, with the help of Debang advisors, were model-like.
With the current Ottoman military strength, if they indeed participated in the war, they would undoubtedly add substantial weight to the scale of victory on our side.
Ahmed did not hesitate: "No problem. We will continue trading at the previously agreed prices; we will increase the transportation volume of the Baghdad Railway as much as possible."
"No, the Empire will not pay another penny. All transactions will be settled using the debts your country owes."
The old Emperor shot a deep look at Ahmed: "I know, the French might have made some unrealistic promises to your country. Your country thinks even if Debang is defeated, it can rely on the French to counter Tsarist Russia. But playing both sides requires actual strength."
Ahmed’s expression changed drastically. Recently, Talat’s meeting with the French emissary had been an extremely confidential matter. How could Franz be aware of it?
Franz chuckled coldly; Debang’s support for the Ottomans was not given for free. They were not as clever as the Wolf Race of Texas; now, Debang’s compradors in the Ottoman Empire were deeply entrenched with vast influence.
Talat Pasha wanted to turn against them?
Not to mention the comprador class wouldn’t agree, even the nationalists resentful towards Tsarist Russia would never consent.
The old Emperor, observing Ahmed’s expression, dropped another bombshell: "The Black Sea Fleet of Tsarist Russia flaunts its power daily in the Dardanelles Strait. I really worry that some radical patriots in your country might turn their anger into cannon fire aimed at Tsarist Russian ships. Should that happen, your country, if forced to join the war hastily, would likely suffer severe setbacks."
Hearing this, Ahmed was already sweating profusely.
This was a threat from the old Emperor. The Ottomans had hired a large number of Debang instructors to train new troops for themselves, and many young officers were staunch followers of Debang. Achieving this would be incredibly easy.
"Emissary Ahmed, please make sure to remind Talat Pasha of this matter."
Franz waved his hand, signaling the guest be seen out.
After the emissary, drenched in sweat, retreated, Karl couldn’t help but exclaim: "Your Majesty, your move was too brilliant."
Franz shook his head: "Nothing brilliant about it. Previously, the Ottomans didn’t join the war because their new troops were weak. If they joined, they would achieve nothing more than now, merely tying up part of Tsarist Russia’s military forces. But now it’s different."
Karl laughed: "After three years of war, the Ottomans have profited handsomely. It’s about time they repay."
At this moment, an officer of the Royal Guard quickly walked in. He first looked at Crown Prince Karl, hesitated, but ultimately spoke: "Your Majesty, someone outside has suddenly claimed to be Crown Prince Rudolf, and he has received validation from Colonel Albrecht."