Although the Navy’s shipbuilding plan was not approved, its strategic proposal to provoke an Anglo-Russian war received high praise from Frederick. For any nation, the most dangerous thing was not scheming officials, but officials who refused to act at all. Only when bureaucrats were busy did they truly become useful. The Navy might have been a little too eager and not entirely thorough in its reasoning, but after considering the broader situation, Frederick could understand their approach. The Holy Roman Empire’s navy had already reached the rank of the second most powerful in the world, yet the gap with the first place was still far from being closed. Once upon a time, the Imperial Navy had a real chance of catching up to the British. Unfortunately, the French government sold its fleet to Britain, widening the power gap between the two nations even further. Of course, every disadvantage had its silver lining. While this deal had hurt the Empire, it had not done the British much good either. The Royal Navy bought those French warships to suppress the Holy Roman Navy and secure its maritime supremacy. Yet the situation later took an unexpected turn. The great naval arms race they anticipated never happened, leaving the Royal Navy with more ships than it could use. In the end, they had no choice but to mothball a large portion of their fleet. Buying a pile of expensive toys only to lock them away was hardly a triumph, and the British suffered in silence. Still, there was little they could do. They knew it was a trap, but they had to jump in anyway. If those French ships had ended up in Imperial hands instead, the Royal Navy’s dominant position would have been in serious danger. After all, shipbuilding took time. If Britain ever lost its edge at sea and Austria suddenly decided to challenge them head-on, the result would be disastrous. The Holy Roman Empire, as a land power, could afford a naval defeat. Britain could not. A major loss for the Royal Navy would shake the entire international order, and once their maritime supremacy was gone, regaining it would be nearly impossible. After missing that brief chance to pull ahead, the world was soon hit by the greatest economic crisis in human history. Most of the money went into rebuilding the economy, and military spending inevitably shrank. Since the end of the Continental War, the Empire’s military budget had remained stagnant. With the total allocation unchanged, the navy’s share could not possibly increase either. To raise funds, the army and air force began selling off their surplus equipment. They did not make a fortune, but at least they improved their finances a little. The navy, however, was not so lucky. Because of the earlier fire sale of warships, the international market was already saturated, leaving them with no room to operate. Even if there had been demand, it would not have helped much. The army and air force were selling off leftover gear from the anti-French war. No matter how cheap the prices were, it was still better than scrapping it for metal. The navy was in a completely different position. Not only did they have no surplus ships to sell, but they also had to compete directly with the British. While the Imperial Navy’s budget had stagnated, its rivals’ naval spending continued to grow year after year. The Navy Ministry could only watch helplessly, feeling the pressure mount. But worry alone solved nothing. The government’s annual budget was limited, and funding one priority meant neglecting another. Naturally, the treasury would always favor the areas most in need. There was no doubt that the Imperial Navy was far from the top priority. The Royal Navy already held a vast advantage. A little more power for them would not change the balance, after all they still dared not enter the Mediterranean. The Royal Navy’s renown was that intimidating. Even Frederick and many senior ministers in the Austrian government had little faith in their own navy. Among those debating how to face Britain, another view had long been gaining ground. It went like this: build more airfields along the coast and deploy the air force to defend, while developing submarines aggressively as a force multiplier. You did not have to sink every enemy ship. If the air force could cripple enemy vessels, the navy could swoop in and finish the job. Such a low bar made the task far less daunting. The fact that the Royal Navy’s main fleet avoided the Mediterranean was a direct consequence of this doctrine. Air power offered far greater mobility than ships, and the Austrian government had already constructed numerous improvised coastal airfields. If the government wanted, it could concentrate hundreds or even thousands of aircraft in a single theater. Faced with a dense swarm of planes, even the most seasoned commanders would feel uneasy. The Royal Navy remained mighty, but any navy must show caution when enemies can strike from above. The Air Ministry had even drafted a strategic bombing plan against Britain. The idea was to marshal a thousand bombers at once, strike the Royal Navy from the air, and end Britain’s maritime supremacy. With current technology that goal remains out of reach, but given the pace of aeronautical advances, it might be achievable in twenty or thirty years. The English Channel was not that wide. As the continental hegemon, the Empire could deploy fighters from France or Belgium and launch air raids without undue difficulty. Though idealistic, the plan still inspired more confidence than a head-on naval showdown with Britain. Under these conditions, the Imperial Navy’s prospects naturally looked bleak. If it could not win budget fights against the army, now the air force came to contend for the same resources. The Navy Ministry’s anxiety was understandable. With limited funding, the navy’s original proposal to exploit the Empire’s industrial advantage by simply drowning Britain in numbers clearly lacked feasibility. After that proposal was rejected, Castagni presented a new dossier. He passed it across the table and said, “Your Highness, this is the Navy’s alternative plan. The gap between the Imperial Navy and the Royal Navy is vast. Catching up will demand enormous sums. Given the Empire’s limited revenue, and to save on costs, the Navy proposes an industrial and technological revolution. We will adopt a wholly new design philosophy and build a battleship unlike any that have come before. We will abandon the old idea of mixed-caliber batteries and instead equip these ships exclusively with heavy guns. Their firepower will be three times that of a traditional battleship. If this experiment succeeds, the old-style battleship will be consigned to the dustbin of history.” “Experimental ship.” That term was crucial. Though the Austrian government was notoriously stingy when it came to naval funding, it was exceptionally generous toward anything labeled as an experimental vessel meant to encourage technological innovation. As a result, the Imperial Navy produced plenty of bizarre designs every year. Yet such oddities were a necessary part of progress. Anyone familiar with naval history knew that every technological revolution had been born out of countless failed experiments. Because of this, Franz even established a special Museum of Naval Oddities, a place dedicated to showcasing all sorts of technological innovations throughout the navy’s development. Both successes and failures were displayed side by side, without criticism or ridicule. Over time, people simply got used to it, and the designers’ imagination grew ever wilder. They took “creative risk” to new extremes, pushing the boundaries of reason and sanity alike. Of course, more than ninety-nine percent of those blueprints never left the archives. Only a tiny fraction, less than one percent, ever turned into real warships. Being bold did not mean being reckless. At the very least, a design had to meet basic principles of physics and buoyancy. The ship needed to float before it could even be considered for further testing. After a round of internal screening, the final design that reached approval was usually one of the more credible ones. Frederick was not deeply versed in naval engineering, but he knew enough to grasp the basics. Studying the blueprint before him, he frowned slightly and asked, “You plan to sweep all existing battleships into the trash heap. Are you certain this will work?” It was not that he felt sentimental about outdated ships. In truth, no matter how naval technology evolved, older vessels still retained value. After all, not every nation could keep pace with a technological revolution at sea. At present, the Empire’s only real rival was Britain. The rest were too weak to even enter the conversation. If a true naval revolution did occur, one on the scale of the ironclad’s birth, it would bring nothing but benefit to the Holy Roman Empire. Times had changed. Starting from the same line as Britain, the Empire had no reason to fear competition with its powerful industrial base. Even if the older battleships became obsolete, the loss would be tolerable. In fact, Britain would suffer the most. In a contest where both sides hurt each other, “killing one thousand enemies and losing eight hundred of your own,” the Empire could afford the risk. Minister of the Navy Castagni shook his head and said, “Your Highness, new technologies always come with uncertainties. Until it’s built and tested, no one can guarantee success. All I can say is that this new battleship design has potential. With firepower three times greater than a conventional battleship, at least in theory, it could completely dominate.” Potential alone was enough. For a chance to close the gap with Britain’s navy, investing four million guilders in a prototype was entirely reasonable. After a moment of reflection, Frederick spoke slowly, “I’ll hold onto this document for now. In principle, I have no objections. As for when to begin the project, we’ll decide after the cabinet has discussed it.” Four million guilders was no small sum as it amounted to nearly one percent of the government’s annual revenue, which was a significant slice of the national budget. Frederick knew he had to be cautious. There might be more critical projects ahead, and he could not afford to ruin his first major budget decision. Especially since a successful trial could spark an unprecedented arms race. That was all the more reason to tread carefully. Frederick did not believe that if the Empire could build such a ship, Britain could not. Though the Empire’s industrial strength surpassed all others, Britain remained the true master of naval technology. Even after the Continental War, when the Empire inherited France’s naval advancements and filled some of its gaps, the result merely brought it up to Britain’s level and it had yet to surpass the Royal Navy.
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