Chapter 519

“I believe all the possible objections have already been raised. Does anyone have another opinion?”

As he said this, Leonard Wittelsbach let his smile fade. His face returned to a still composure, as though the smile, which should have been a means of expressing emotion, had served only as a signal. The advisers who understood that signal said nothing.

“We must take the possibility of war with Prussia into account.”

Having just declared it was his turn to speak, Leonard raised one of the concerns his advisers had brought up. In the silence, his voice—reminiscent of his grandparents, the former kings—rang out.

“The Papal See is already anticipating a war between Germany and the various countries of Europe.”

That fact alone was a rebuttal to his advisers’ argument. If Prussia became outraged that Bavaria had crossed the ‘unspoken line’ by contacting the Catacombs, they would have no room to start a civil war in Germany. The conflict between ‘Germany’ and the other countries would be a far greater problem, after all.

The advisers understood what he meant. The Crown Prince continued.

“The fact that Atropos, a murder and mind manipulation drug, has fallen into the hands of an uncontrolled terrorist group is already threatening Germany’s security. Pleroma used Atropos to assassinate the Prime Minister of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and prominent Italian nobles. France, which is already at odds with Germany, will not let this opportunity pass. The Kingdom of Italy, with the exception of the Papal States, will also hold us responsible, while the Austro-Hungarian Empire will break its alliance with us. Other European countries that have been watching the situation will choose to join forces with those seeking to bring down Germany as a new hegemonic power rather than stand with us, and they will divide our subjects and territories among themselves. Bavaria can act as a state separate from Prussia in this crisis, and countries such as France are likely to pour enormous amounts of support into Bavaria in an attempt to divide Germany once again. The only reason none of this is happening is that Atropos is being kept strictly secret, and most countries do not yet know it exists.”

Therefore, from Prussia’s perspective, there were only two choices: either keep Bavaria under its control, at least in name, or sit back and watch Bavaria rise rapidly while Prussia fell.

Leonard repeated what he had already settled long ago in his mind.

“To avoid being held responsible for the German Empire’s failure, Bavaria will begin the grand Pleroma eradication operation tonight, sharing Germany’s burden while securing the safety of the Kingdom of Bavaria. However, once the existence of Atropos is made public across the continent, no matter what measures Bavaria takes, a change in our relations with Prussia will become unavoidable. And this will have nothing to do with the Catacombs or any other grounds. The responsibility lies with Germany, and with the Prussian government that runs the German federal government, for failing to stop Pleroma. Therefore, this is precisely the right time to elevate the Catacombs’ position. Bavaria will use this crisis to force Prussia to accept change.”

Up to this point, he had only skimmed the surface of the issues that had been raised. Now it was time to get to the heart of the matter.

Having finished his calculations, Leonard spoke.

“But you are concerned that contact between our kingdom and the Catacombs could become a weapon for Prussia in foreign affairs. ‘Bavaria acted unilaterally, launching an unannounced raid on Pleroma and destroying the opportunity to eradicate Pleroma in regions outside Bavaria. In the process, it allied itself with the Catacombs, rendering the Imperial Constitution meaningless and providing the starting point for the division of Germany. Therefore, we in Prussia are currently forced to devote all the manpower and resources that should be used to contain Pleroma to keeping Bavaria’s unilateral actions in check. It can therefore be concluded that Bavaria is endangering the security of the German Federation.’”

The advisers showed their respect at the Crown Prince’s words. Leonard had seen that gesture all his life: gratitude from those beneath him because a member of the Royal Family had understood their concerns. The gesture itself stirred a faint sense of discomfort in him because of the values ingrained in it. And yet, contrary to those very values, it was familiar to him. It had to be.

The advisers’ concern was this: by making contact with the Catacombs, Bavaria could give Prussia an excuse to claim that it could no longer stand by and do nothing, and place all the blame on Bavaria. In other words, Prussia could turn Bavaria into the emotional enemy of the German Empire. And because meeting with the Catacombs was illegal, Prussia would have even more reason to use it as a weapon.

Leonard looked down at his advisers. He thought of his strategist. Then he thought of his mother. He had told no one—not even his political allies—and even they had not anticipated the conclusion he was about to voice.

“The existence of Atropos will be announced throughout Europe tonight. The full confrontation between Germany and Europe will take shape this week—tonight at the earliest, or on a weekday at the latest. Prussia will therefore have no time to maneuver in a battle for public opinion.”

At his words, the advisers’ expressions hardened. Everyone seated there felt the air grow cold. One of the advisers moved his lips soundlessly for a moment before asking, his face gone pale.

“What do you mean?”

“Your Highness, no country officially knows the name or existence of Atropos. The Papal See merely inferred its existence. Are you saying the information will leak from the Papal See?”

“Not from the Papal See. France knows because it had been receiving all of its information from the Papal See.”

The advisers’ expressions changed at once. Leonard continued.

“Due to Bavaria’s covert operation, France’s Terminus Eukairia lost one of its operatives who had been in contact with the Papal See yesterday. Terminus Eukairia does not know who severed its connection to such a powerful counterpart as the Papal See. But ever since Germany identified the French Imperial Family as the culprit behind the parure theft, its political relationship with France has begun to deteriorate. As a result, it now regards the German Empire and Pleroma as its competitors. And judging by its attempts to replicate rampage drugs and the alliances it has been forming, it is clearly focused on surpassing Pleroma’s technology and influence. Following its massive losses, Terminus Eukairia will reveal the existence of Atropos in order to keep its enemies in check and restrict the German Empire’s freedom of action, turning Germany into Europe’s enemy.”

Leonard explained their isolation strategy. The advisers already knew of Terminus Eukairia and understood its objectives, so they grasped everything Leonard was saying at once. He held their gaze, giving them a moment to take it in, then continued.

“Therefore, the moment Terminus Eukairia realizes that its connection to the Papal See has been severed, it would make political and economic sense for it to publicly announce the existence of Atropos. Yet it has not done so. It is therefore easy to conclude that some other constraint or incentive is preventing it from doing so for the time being. Our spy who has been in contact with Terminus Eukairia has set the deadline for the Pleroma eradication operation as tonight. For the German Empire to gain the international defensive position necessary to protect itself from the threat of Pleroma’s terrorism, and for Pleroma to become completely isolated politically, Terminus Eukairia must not announce Atropos first. As I mentioned a few days ago, our informant is a surface-level collaborator of Terminus Eukairia and has control over the situation. At the same time, their foremost objective is to ensure Pleroma suffers an absolute loss, giving them both the incentive and the ability to delay Terminus Eukairia’s announcement of Atropos. Therefore, I am certain that once tonight has passed, Terminus Eukairia will no longer delay announcing the existence of Atropos. So.”

Leonard interlaced his fingers and looked straight ahead.

“Quite fortunately, Bavaria will successfully carry out the operation to eradicate Pleroma tonight, thereby thoroughly protecting the German Empire from a political crisis and an all-out assault from its rival nations.”

The advisers stared wide-eyed, their mouths opening and closing in stunned disbelief. They had received a precise answer, and now there was nothing left for them to object to. They instinctively realized that Leonard was on the verge of securing Bavaria’s upper hand through his own calculations and foresight, and that he had already considered everything that was to come and finished weighing it all.

The Crown Prince would gain three things by openly overstepping his authority in front of Prussia, which had reached a dead end. He would turn the chaos that was bound to come into a victory for Bavaria, put Prussia in his debt, and bring the Catacombs into the process as well. Without even realizing it, Prussia had already been isolated. And Bavaria would emerge victorious on every front, exactly as the Crown Prince had planned.

The Crown Prince knew how to make a decisive push at the right moment. All the advisers could do now was listen as he proved his case. The Crown Prince continued.

“Therefore, Prussia can only make a comeback by presenting Bavaria’s achievement on Easter night as an achievement of the German Empire. Domestically, they will sense that the balance of power is shifting, but there will be nothing they can do about it publicly. That is precisely what I had in mind when I allowed this major operation to eradicate Pleroma.”

The advisers once again bowed respectfully before raising their heads. They had yielded to the Crown Prince. No one tried to stop him anymore. Even so, Leonard continued.

“You said that the Royal Family is an enemy of the Catacombs, and that the best way to respect them would be not to contact them. You are right. My presence as a member of the Royal Family will force them, as commoners, to show unnecessary deference, and every time they try to voice a democratic opinion, they will have to worry about their own safety.”

Perhaps the wording had been too cutting, because one of the advisers went pale and hurried to explain.

“We did not mean to offend Your Highness.”

Leonard looked at him quietly before answering.

“You have a duty to voice your concerns. Yes, I will face exactly the kind of situation you described when I meet the Catacombs. You were also concerned that, because I feel indebted to the Catacombs, I might lower myself before them and diminish the dignity of the Royal Family. But this was not advice that I should take pride in my blue blood. Your point was that a ruler who wields power entrusted to him by tens of millions of subjects represents the dignity and honor of those subjects, and therefore must not lay down that weight under any circumstances. And you were saying that the contradiction itself could be perceived as hostility by the Catacombs. I believe I have understood you correctly.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Even if his presence was unwelcome to the Catacombs, Leonard still had to meet them. As he had said before, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Catacombs, and the only way for the Bavarian Royal Family to stop adding to the debt it owed them. If he did not want to miss the one chance he had to turn the Catacombs to their side while they could still afford to abandon Prussia’s goodwill, then he had to bring them in now.

The advisers had already agreed with the Crown Prince’s plan. Leonard no longer needed to persuade them. Their faces told him everything.

“So I will accept the Catacombs’ hostility.”

The words came from the Crown Prince, not Leonard. The Crown Prince did not say that he would melt the Catacombs’ hostility with kindness. He did not say that he would offer them his hand.

A premonition passed through him that he would never forget this day. Leonard remembered when he had said, ‘You are concerned that contact between our kingdom and the Catacombs could become a weapon for Prussia in foreign affairs.’ Rather than pointing out Prussia’s moral wrongdoing, he had persuaded his advisers by speaking of the timing of Atropos’s announcement and the international situation.

In political matters, insisting that justice would prevail someday, or that acting ethically would ultimately make everything work together for the good, was perhaps the most tedious, noble, and difficult ideal to uphold. Yet when that belief took root in the wrong person, it could sometimes become the easiest thing in the world.

Leonard Wittelsbach was not like those who could burn even their lives away in a metaphysical struggle for their convictions. Leonard Wittelsbach understood. Throwing away the crown that had been prepared for him from the moment of his birth and rushing toward the values he had been struggling over was not some noble awakening of conviction. It was proof of irresponsibility. It was a sign of indulgence, death, and self-righteous isolation.

From the moment he was born, he had been destined to become the one and only ruler of Bavaria. Until the day he died, he had to remain loyal to the Kingdom of Bavaria and to the lives of its subjects.

Therefore, he could not be an artist. Nor could he be a visionary. He could not live for revenge as his friend did, nor could he devote his life to an ideology he firmly believed was justice. He could not allow himself to become subordinate to an ideology, nor could he blindly follow his own convictions.

That was Leonard Wittelsbach’s cause.

It was an interesting thing. Even when they all sought the happiness of everyone, their respective causes manifested in different ways. They had to, because everyone stood in a different place.

At some point, perhaps even now, Leonard Wittelsbach had wanted to follow the path his friend pursued, even knowing that the values his friend sought were at odds with the position he had been born into. The liberal outlook he had inherited from his mother allowed him to do so. The reason he kept thinking of that one friend was probably because Leonard’s own lingering gaze was still fixed in that direction.

Leonard ruthlessly analyzed his own state of mind. And he reminded himself that he could not remain that way. Unlike him, his friend was free to devote himself to his own convictions, even if he did not blindly follow an ideology, and to rebel in that manner. Leonard, on the other hand, lived within a kind of duty and responsibility that his friend had never been born to bear.

The blood and tears of generations yet to come, and the fate of his own age, rested upon his shoulders. They also rested in the hands of that vast companion called the citizenry, but like every ruler whose name would one day remain at the end of a historian’s pen, Leonard stood alone before his age.

One day, he would be able to hold the fate of tens of millions in his hands. Even the president of a republic held the fate of a nation and the lives of its people in his grasp beyond the length of his term. A ruler who served for only four years could decide whether countless people lived or died.

Therefore, what was best for Elias Hohenzollern was wrong for Leonard. And what was best for Leonard Wittelsbach was not what was best for Elias Hohenzollern. Leonard Wittelsbach agonized over it. He was caught between the familiar world he had shared with his values and the world of duty he would soon have to take into his hands. He knew there was not much time left for him to remain a student.

Leonard Wittelsbach could no longer remain a high school student who felt uncomfortable even hearing commoners call him Crown Prince. Standing before the scent of Pleroma’s blood, he thought of it. The day when he could no longer distance himself from his destiny was drawing near.

“We shall obey.”

One of the advisers bowed his head. Taking that as a signal, the others did the same. Leonard looked down at his advisers for a moment, just as the kings before him and the king who now reigned had done, then rose from his seat.