Holy Roman Empire

At the Vienna Palace, Franz looked at his confident and spirited son and smiled as he asked, “Frederick, you’re about to represent Austria on a diplomatic tour of Europe. Are you ready for this?”

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ve memorized all the information. I guarantee the mission will be a success,” Frederick replied with determination.

The House of Habsburg, with its long lineage, was known for having an abundance of relatives.

In this era of inconvenient transportation, family members typically didn’t keep in touch unless there was a pressing reason. However, once one was in their territory, social interactions were inevitable.

Having many relatives was one thing, but the real headache was their penchant for sharing the same names, combined with a long string of titles. Without sufficient familiarity, it was easy to confuse identities.

Such mistakes didn’t just result in embarrassment, they could be seen as a lack of respect, potentially turning relatives into enemies.

Franz’s aversion to extensive travel was primarily due to this hassle. As the Emperor, he was fortunate enough to hold a position so prestigious that others would visit him instead. Visitors typically announced themselves, minimizing the risk of mistakes.

Even at social events, Franz’s superior rank made him the most distinguished guest. Very few could claim equal standing, and in most cases, a simple polite nod sufficed.

Frederick, however, didn’t have it so easy. While he was the Austrian crown prince and of high status, there were still many individuals of comparable rank. The list alone included hundreds of names.

From this perspective, being a noble wasn’t easy, especially since it demanded an excellent memory. This was particularly true for lesser nobles, as the titles of prominent figures weren’t simple to recall.

Franz himself was a prime example. Due to the ripple effects of history, his current titles were even longer than those recorded in the past. In fact, Franz wasn’t entirely sure he could recite them all accurately.

Yet everyone else was required to memorize them perfectly, a necessity dictated by the political system. Austria’s empire existed because of the emperor, not the other way around.

Call it rigid or mechanical if you like, but this was the foundation of the empire’s legal system.

Apart from a few honorary titles, dropping even one would lead to protests from the local populace. In European society, this would be seen as an act of discrimination.

As a result, Austrian schoolchildren were in for a tough time. They were required to memorize Franz’s full list of titles perfectly or risk not graduating.

“It’s not just about memorizing,” Franz continued, “You also need to build rapport with people. This is an opportunity to expand your network. Making a few friends, even if they’re just friends for drinking and eating, can only be beneficial.

I’ve already given you the dossier on Princess Sophia Maria Victoria. Handle it as you see fit, but I don’t want any embarrassing incidents.”

At the mention of friends, Frederick’s expression dimmed. In the royal family, having genuine friends was almost impossible.

The disparity in status made true equality in relationships difficult, let alone genuine friendship.

As emperor, Franz had no friends. If Frederick couldn’t forge connections now, he likely wouldn’t have any in the future either.

An emperor is inherently solitary. In the domestic sphere, the idea of friendship is out of the question. Historical accounts of monarchs being friends with their ministers? Franz could only scoff at the notion.

Frederick’s face reddened, “Don’t worry, Father. I know how to handle it. I won’t embarrass you.”

Franz nodded in response. This wasn’t just a matter of avoiding embarrassment, it was also a test for Frederick.

If he succeeded, he would solidify his position as Austria’s heir. If he failed, well, it would be another story. Changing the line of succession in Europe might be troublesome, but it wasn’t impossible.

Of course, that was the worst-case scenario. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t come to that. Franz was confident in his understanding of his son’s capabilities.

…

Foreign Minister Wessenberg stated, “Your Majesty, the British envoy has sent a diplomatic note requesting that we enforce a comprehensive blockade on Ethiopia.

Based on the information we’ve gathered, this is because the war in Ethiopia has dragged on too long, and the British government can no longer withstand domestic public pressure. Now they’re starting to panic.

If nothing unexpected occurs, the French likely received a similar note.

Unable to make a breakthrough on the battlefield, the British are now pinning their hopes on action off the battlefield.

In theory, if we and the French cut off trade with Ethiopia, it wouldn’t take long before the Ethiopian army’s weapons turn into nothing more than firewood sticks.”

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Modern warfare is all about logistics. For an agricultural country, once its supply of strategic materials is cut off, it’s not far from defeat.

Franz asked, “At the current intensity of the war, how long can the Ethiopian army’s stockpiles of strategic supplies last?”

Minister of War Albrecht answered, “At most, no more than a year assuming there’s no major escalation in fighting.

If the British intensify their offensives, it’s possible they could deplete Ethiopia’s ammunition within 2-3 months.

Unless the Ethiopian army suddenly rallies and defeats the British before their supplies run out, the outcome of the war is already certain. It’s just a question of how much it will cost the British.”

Franz didn’t hold out hope for a sudden turnaround by the Ethiopian army. That was simply impossible. Currently, the British forces number over 100,000, and even though the majority are Indian colonial troops, their regular forces still include three infantry divisions.

On the battlefield, the Ethiopian army has been on the defensive, continually pressed by the British. If not for their advantage as locals familiar with the terrain, they would likely have already been defeated.

If the Ethiopian army suddenly decided to rush out and confront the British in a decisive battle, the British would probably laugh themselves silly.

In the jungle, the British can’t do much to the Ethiopian forces. But in a direct open-field battle, the two sides are on completely different levels. The Ethiopian army’s combat power is roughly equivalent to that of the Indian colonial troops, with the only difference being that the Ethiopians have a stronger will to fight.

Prime Minister Felix said, “Don’t entertain such fantasies. Before the main British forces arrived, the Ethiopian army still had a slim chance of winning if they were willing to fight to the death.

From the moment British reinforcements arrived, the situation shifted. If it weren’t for their geographic advantage, Ethiopia would already have been defeated.

Now, their only hope is to drag the war out, to the point where British losses exceed a critical threshold, and the British government can no longer afford to commit more resources.”

Foreign Minister Wessenberg interjected, “That would be difficult. The current situation is very different from the Afghan War. The Ethiopian conflict not only concerns the British government’s reputation but also affects its standing in the global hierarchy.

In the Anglo-French-Austrian system of great powers, Britain is still widely regarded as the world’s foremost power. But such a title must be backed by real strength. The British performance in the Ethiopian War has shown their strength to be clearly overstated.

Being the world’s leading power isn’t just an empty title, it influences political discourse on the international stage and ties directly to the distribution of global interests.

If the British government concedes even slightly, the resulting political damage will be incalculable.

In comparison, continuing the war is still the more favorable option. As long as the British government is willing to spend money, victory is only a matter of time.”

Political considerations often outweigh military issues.

War may be costly, but the money comes from the state treasury and not from the pockets of the cabinet ministers themselves. However, ending the war and the resulting political damage would be a burden they would have to bear personally.

Franz asked, “If we were to provide support, would Ethiopia have any chance of victory?”

Stabbing Britain in the back was standard practice, something Franz had learned from the British themselves. If it were possible, he wouldn’t mind further draining British strength.

Minister of War Albrecht replied, “From a military perspective, Ethiopia’s chances of victory are nearly zero, even with our support.

The problem isn’t that the Ethiopian army lacks the capability to fight the British, it’s that the fragile Ethiopian government’s financial system cannot sustain the ongoing war.”

The argument of “no money” was compelling. As an agricultural nation, the fact that Ethiopia’s government hadn’t yet gone bankrupt was already quite impressive.

Austria’s support for Ethiopia was limited to selling arms, assisting in training troops, and nothing more. Pouring significant resources into securing an Ethiopian victory was out of the question.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Franz made his decision, “Open negotiations with the British. If the terms are favorable, we can consider withdrawing our support for Ethiopia.

However, this would only happen after an agreement is reached. For now, let’s proceed as planned. We can also subtly remind the Ethiopian government about Britain’s intentions to sever their international trade routes.”

“Selling out an ally” was basic practice for major powers—it all boiled down to interests.

Ethiopia had never been a true ally of Austria. The Austrian government’s support for them was solely to cause trouble for Britain, so there was no question of betrayal in this case.