At the root of every dispute and conflict lay the same thing: interests. The British government’s interference had indeed complicated the negotiations, but it did not change their nature as all talk and no action. They kept proclaiming their “support” for the Spanish government, yet when it came to taking real action, all they offered were excuses and delays. This was inevitable. Words of encouragement were cheap, but putting up real money to support Spain was another matter entirely. Ever since Russia had set the precedent of defaulting on its debts, Britain had suffered a series of similar disappointments. Though later debtors were not as shamelessly blunt as the Russians, they truly had no money to pay, leaving Britain’s financiers helpless. Either accept delayed payments or agree to debt restructuring, because normal repayment was out of the question. Recovering even the original loan was a blessing, and making a profit was a fantasy. Learning from these bitter lessons, British investors had become far more cautious. When it came to international lending, they now acted with extreme prudence. Given Spain’s dire financial state, it clearly failed to meet the basic conditions for new loans. Unless the British government itself guaranteed repayment, no sane investor would touch that quagmire. Even the boldest capitalists feared the risks, let alone the British government. The opposition was always watching like hawks. If the ruling party dared to throw away the nation’s money for nothing, it would hand its rivals a perfect weapon for attack. After more than half a year of back-and-forth negotiations, the cash-strapped Spanish government finally accepted reality. On June 6, 1898, the Holy Roman Empire’s Foreign Minister, Wessenberg, and the Spanish delegation signed the “Treaty on the Transfer of Moroccan Sovereignty” in Vienna. With the signing of this treaty, another world record was set. To purchase the Moroccan territories, the Austrian government offered an astronomical price of 180 million guilders, setting a new record for the most expensive land transaction in history. Of course, there was a reason Austria was willing to pay such a sky-high sum. Beyond Morocco’s genuine strategic value, the real purpose was to make a statement for all of Europe to see. In truth, the Spanish government already owed the Empire a mountain of debt and was on the verge of default. The transaction conveniently offset those obligations. After deducting all the tangled loans and credits, the actual amount of cash Austria needed to pay was barely ten million guilders. Spain had no grounds to refuse. Without the option of using its debt as payment, Austria would never have offered such a generous price. As for how the spoils would be divided, that would be decided later, once Morocco was firmly in imperial hands. It was worth noting that Frederick declined all private donations. Those who had money but nowhere to spend it were simply unlucky as they had missed the golden age when one could buy a noble title with cash. Since Franz had ascended the throne, the nobility system had been steadily reformed, and Austria had formally entered an era where titles were granted for military merit. Apart from battlefield achievements, there were now only two ways to become a noble: be born into it and inherit your ancestors’ title, or make great contributions to the state and be personally ennobled by the Emperor. As the imperial system grew more refined, the effectiveness of spending money to buy influence weakened drastically. In the Holy Roman Empire of today, nobles were either the lucky kind or the capable kind. Titles were granted by the Emperor himself. A few hundred thousand or even a few million guilders could not catch Franz’s attention, nor could it tempt Frederick. The rules had long been established, and now everyone simply had to follow them. Those who were dissatisfied had no choice but to swallow their frustration. If they wanted a share of the spoils, they had better grab their weapons and take action and maybe, just maybe, they could still get lucky. Even that chance was slim. On the very day the treaty was signed, several private armed groups launched attacks toward Morocco. Their speed startled even Franz. Perhaps everyone knew that opportunities for new territories were growing scarce, and no one wanted to miss this one. Even while the negotiations were still underway, militias had already begun gathering in Algeria. According to the Algerian provincial government’s reports, by the time the fighting broke out, over two hundred thousand privately organized troops from across the Empire had converged there. Surprisingly, the main force this time did not consist of newly risen African nobles but of old aristocrats from within Europe, including even a few minor monarchs from various German states. It made sense. To claim a share of this feast, they had to be in position before the deal was finalized. But this was a high-risk gamble. Without deep pockets, few could afford it. If the negotiations collapsed or dragged on for two or three years, most would go bankrupt long before seeing any return. The newly established nobles could barely manage their existing fiefs. Even if they wanted to join the fray, they simply lacked the funds. Those with both wealth and ambition—especially the northern German nobles—were the most eager to act. Although they had also taken part in the colonial movement, their involvement came later and with far less investment than their southern counterparts. And once you fell behind in this race, catching up became nearly impossible. As the process of African localization continued, the African lords’ political influence within the Empire grew stronger by the year. Against this backdrop, the already dominant southern nobles gained even greater control in imperial politics. No one wanted to be left behind. Whether for political power or for the future of their families, the northern nobles urgently needed more territory. Driven by this sense of crisis, it was no surprise that even a few minor monarchs from small states had joined the scramble. In theory, all the imperial states were equals under the law, but in practice, things were very different. Many of the smaller ones, despite their grand titles, were no more than autonomous cities in disguise. For ordinary citizens, there was little distinction between a “state” and a “self-governing city.” Both enjoyed a high degree of autonomy. But for the princes who ruled them, it was another matter entirely. At present, they still had a vote in the Imperial Assembly. Yet without sufficient influence within the Empire, how long could they keep that seat? In the long history of the Holy Roman Empire, even the status of an Elector had changed hands before. The same could easily happen to parliamentary seats. If they did not want to fall into decline, they had to strengthen themselves. Expanding territory within Europe was nearly impossible unless they could replicate the Habsburg’s old trick, marrying into another family just as that family’s main line died out. But the odds of that happening were about as slim as winning a lottery, only sheer luck could make it work. Rather than betting on such a rare event, it was far more practical to expand elsewhere. No matter how perfect the system became, personal connections and favors could never be avoided. The same military achievement could yield very different rewards depending on whose name was attached to it. With their seats in the Imperial Diet, those minor monarchs only needed to earn a few battlefield merits to gain entry while the rest could be handled through behind-the-scenes deals. Politics was about interests, but it was also about human relationships. The Holy Roman Empire was not built by sword and gun alone, it was also held together by the Habsburgs’ vast web of personal connections. Franz understood this very well. Being Emperor was never an easy task. One had to stand firm on principles where necessary but also be tactful where possible. A capable ruler did not necessarily need extraordinary intelligence, but emotional intelligence was essential. Without it, the mere act of managing relationships could drive a person to collapse. Frankly speaking, this was one area where Franz fell short. He was simply fortunate to have ruled during the final years of feudal monarchy. The future would be different. As times changed, it would become almost impossible for a monarch to have absolute authority. More often than not, they would have to balance competing interests from every direction. With so many factions vying for Morocco, it was obvious that not everyone would get a share. Moreover, since the funds used to purchase the Moroccan territory came from the central government, the amount of land available for distribution would shrink even further. From the current situation, it appeared that unless something unexpected happened, the Austrian government would have no chance to send troops. How to divide the spoils and satisfy all parties had become a serious challenge, and without a doubt, this challenging task had become another major test for Frederick. Worse still, the Austrian government was about to undergo a reshuffle. Most of the current cabinet members were already in their seventies or eighties, long past their prime and unable to keep up with the demands of governance. Keeping them in office until now was not just a matter of Franz’s sentimentality, it was also about managing the transition of power. The saying “a new ruler brings new ministers” might sound a bit absolute, but the wisdom behind it remained true. In Europe, such changes were less dramatic but still had an undeniable effect. The global struggle for supremacy was entering its final stage. Judging from the current balance of power, the Holy Roman Empire’s chances of victory stood at about ninety percent. No matter who took office next, they were guaranteed to gain immense prestige from the outcome. With that kind of political capital, as long as they did not make any major blunders, reelection was almost certain. During Franz’s reign, it was natural that his ministers enjoyed high prestige, but no matter how high their reputation rose, none could ever surpass that of the old Emperor himself. That would not work for Frederick. Just looking at the current government made that clear. Every minister under him was a man of great merit, and as the regent and crown prince, Frederick still had to show them due respect. The only reason there had not been any chaos was that these men were old and no longer interested in stirring up trouble. On top of that, Franz was still alive, and as long as he lived, none of them dared to act recklessly. At this point in time, the average life expectancy was under fifty. Any new administration would naturally bring in a younger generation. Appointing another cabinet full of men in their seventies and eighties would obviously be unrealistic. To put it bluntly, dealing with a group of old men could even be dangerous for the Emperor himself. If he spoke too harshly and accidentally provoked one of them to death, it could easily turn into a political disaster. The structure of the Holy Roman Empire’s political system made frequent government reshuffles impossible. As long as cabinet officials in their forties or fifties performed well, their reelection was almost guaranteed. Although Franz remained in good health, there was no guarantee that he would live long enough to see the next generation of leaders come and go. To prevent a situation where the ministers became stronger than the throne, Franz deliberately kept these old officials in place, creating an opportunity for Frederick to gain experience and establish control. As regent, Frederick had full authority, including the power to appoint cabinet members. Since personnel appointments were entirely in his hands, if he could not manage his own appointees, it would be inexcusable. While Frederick was worrying about assembling his new cabinet, the whole of Europe was set ablaze by headlines about the astonishing land deal. Economic journals analyzed the acquisition from a financial perspective, proclaiming how securing Morocco would benefit the Holy Roman Empire’s economy. They speculated that the circular railway plan would be redrawn, boosting the entire infrastructure industry chain. Military newspapers focused on Morocco’s strategic importance, claiming it would secure the western gate of the Mediterranean and strengthen the empire’s overall military posture. Political publications emphasized the diplomatic implications, praising the deal as a model of great power cooperation that opened a new path for resolving international disputes through political compromise. But it was the entertainment papers that truly captured public attention. With the bold headline “The Rebirth of the Roman Empire,” they stole the spotlight and set all of Europe abuzz. At this stage, there was no longer any question of whether the Holy Roman Empire should remain low-profile. It had grown so vast that hiding its presence was impossible. Since modesty was no longer an option, it was better to embrace grandeur openly. After all, Morocco had been purchased at a high price by the Austrian government, not seized from Spain by force. There was no reason for anyone to resent them. One only had to look at the origins of the Habsburg crown to understand why. It traced its lineage directly back to the ancient Roman Empire. The Holy Roman Empire was, in fact, often referred to as the “Second Roman Empire.” Previously, that title had felt hollow. Its strength did not match its name, and even its own citizens were embarrassed to use it. Yet, as the Holy Roman Empire grew stronger and more prosperous, more and more Europeans came to accept the title of the Second Roman Empire. The Moroccan land deal became the spark that set off a wave of public enthusiasm, finally making the title “Second Roman Empire” truly worthy of its name. Franz had already returned to Vienna. Since the Emperor himself had no desire to make a spectacle of things, the Austrian government naturally could not take it upon itself to organize a “celebration.” However, while the Emperor could restrain the government, he could not restrain the people. With the press fanning the flames, the entire Holy Roman Empire was swept up in a wave of joy and festivity. Sensing profit in the air, the capitalists were quick to act. They rolled out all kinds of celebration events one after another across the Empire. The excitement and scale of the festivities even surpassed those of Christmas. … Rows of tall elm trees lined both sides of the street, forming a shaded path that led directly to the Russian Empire’s embassy in Vienna. Outside, laughter and cheers filled the city, but here, everything was quiet and cold. The contrast was stark, as if the embassy existed in an entirely different world. “Your Excellency, Vienna is so lively today. Why don’t we go out and take a walk?” The sound of that annoying voice made Ambassador Moroz even more irritated. After all, there was more than one heir to the Roman Empire’s legacy. The Russian Empire also claimed possession of the Roman crown. The problem was that the Russian government’s means of obtaining that crown had been questionable, to say the least, so much so that most of Europe refused to recognize it. Whether others acknowledged it or not, the Russians certainly did. But now that the Holy Roman Empire was being hailed as the Second Rome, where did that leave the Russian Empire? Annoyance aside, reason told Moroz that the best thing he could do now was to stay silent and act as though he had not heard a thing. The dispute over who was the true Second Rome was nothing new. In mainstream European opinion, the Holy Roman Empire had long been seen as Rome’s legitimate successor. Of course, that recognition came with quotation marks. Over the centuries, nearly every European nation had claimed to be the true heir of Rome at one point or another. But compared with those who had nothing to show for their claims, the Habsburg dynasty, having inherited the Roman imperial crown, at least appeared far more legitimate. Suppressing his growing irritation, Moroz replied coldly, “Sir Leandro, as the British ambassador to Austria, don’t you have work to attend to?” His tone made it obvious that his patience was wearing thin. If not for the discipline expected of a diplomat, Moroz would have already exploded. As for the man before him, Moroz knew exactly what the British ambassador was up to. Since the two were adversaries, there was no reason for him to act friendly. The fact that he had not thrown Leandro out already was a sign of remarkable restraint. Leandro only smiled, seemingly unfazed by the sarcasm, and replied with calm politeness, “Of course I do. But surely, Your Excellency, you must agree that observing the customs and atmosphere of Vienna is also part of a diplomat’s work? The city is so lively today. If we go out and experience it firsthand, it might even help us better understand our future assignments.”
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