Holy Roman Empire Chapter 1163 - The Final Chapter

                                                                

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        Amid widespread astonishment, on December 31, 1905, Franz formally passed the throne to Frederick, and the Holy Roman Empire officially entered the Frederick era.         Unlike previous transfers of power, this handover was exceptionally smooth. The outside world did not know Franz’s true physical condition, but that did not mean the upper echelons of government were equally ignorant.         Although many could not understand why Franz was so eager to abdicate, as long as the old Emperor was still alive, no one dared to act rashly.         Europe might not have the saying about shooting the bird that sticks its head out, but the principle was the same. No matter how strong one’s thirst for power, no one dared to cause trouble at such a sensitive moment.         Once the top of the government was stable, the political factions attached beneath it naturally stabilized as well. Even those who dared to poke their heads up were swiftly suppressed by the cabinet.         This was a test of competence. Anyone who could not even maintain basic stability had no business remaining in politics.         With the transition completed without incident, Franz was more than happy to relax. Once people grew old, they no longer liked constant upheaval.         From the Austrian Empire to the present Holy Roman Empire, Franz’s fifty seven years on the throne had long since exhausted him.         Frankly speaking, in this era of relative decline everywhere else, the overall performance of Holy Roman bureaucrats was actually quite respectable.         Corruption and administrative inertia had not been eradicated, but compared with the bureaucracies of other countries in the same period, they could unquestionably be described as efficient.         Confident that he was not leaving behind a mess, the abdicated Emperor Franz, thoroughly satisfied, began a nationwide tour.         As for the concluding work of the world war, that was a set of achievements he deliberately reserved for his son. Although the details would likely be tedious and there might be setbacks along the way, the overall direction had already been set.         In the face of absolute strength, all schemes and stratagems were ultimately futile.         Italy had been reduced to a mere geographical term. A diminished France was still licking the wounds left by the last world war. The once formidable British Empire had now taken its final bow.         Deprived of colonial lifelines and gravely weakened, Britain and France would need at least a few decades just to recover their vitality. As for returning to their former peak, that was little more than a fantasy.         The once formidable Russian Empire was now mired in civil war, unable to extricate itself. With its main forces pinned down by the allied armies, the Russian government lacked the means to bring matters to a swift conclusion.         In particular, the international “anti-Russian forces” had already linked up. Tens of thousands of so called mercenary legions were sweeping toward the Russian government, clearly determined not to stop until Russia was torn apart.         The United States, which should have been rising, had instead been battered to the brink of collapse. Disputes over war reparations dragged on endlessly among the states. No agreement could be reached, and even elections could not proceed normally.         With encouragement from the Continental Alliance, some federal state legislatures had gone so far as to openly discuss independence.         Even the major capital conglomerates that should have supported federal unity began to retreat one after another. The world war had clearly frightened them.         Swimming against the current had never been the way of capitalists. Everyone had families and assets to protect. Asking them to shed blood and sacrifice everything for the United States was simply too much.         Moreover, the world of capital had never been united. Where some suffered losses, others inevitably profited. At the very least, the local midwestern capital groups were more than happy to part ways with the East.         Looking across the globe, the Holy Roman Empire had no opponent of real weight. As the sole remaining great power and superpower, no matter how turbulent the international situation became, things could never truly spiral out of control.         Freed from the burden of tedious state affairs, Franz was in exceptionally good spirits during his travels.         The sky was blue, the water clear. From time to time, scenes of wind stirring the grass to reveal cattle and sheep appeared before him. A barbecue grill, a sprinkling of cumin and chili powder, and the picture became all the more delightful.         Without any time constraints, Franz lingered wherever he went, sampling local specialties and experiencing regional customs and traditions.         He traveled at an unhurried pace. After more than half a year, he was still wandering around the Balkan Peninsula. Compared with the vast expanse of the Holy Roman Empire, this was not even the tip of the iceberg.         At such a pace, Franz would likely never complete a nationwide tour within his lifetime. But that hardly mattered. Traveling was about enjoyment, not deadlines.         The Holy Roman Empire was simply too vast. Every kind of climate and terrain existed within its borders. Even a young man would struggle to traverse the entire realm, let alone an elderly one nearing the end of his years.         Time slipped by unnoticed. In the blink of an eye, twenty five years had passed. Franz ultimately failed to complete a global tour. He did not even manage to visit a tenth of Africa.         There was no helping it. Time spared no one. No matter how diligently one exercised, the erosion of years could not be resisted. Upon reaching extreme old age, Franz was forced to return to Vienna to live out his remaining days.         Watching his body deteriorate day by day, Franz could only sigh in silence. No one was truly unafraid of death. Even having lived two lifetimes, Franz could not remain indifferent to life and death.         Lately, a fragment of memory had been surfacing again and again in Franz’s mind, as if it were a dream. In that dream, he became another person, one who had likewise founded a world spanning empire.         Reason told him it was only a “dream,” yet his intuition insisted that it was real. After all, something as absurd as transmigration had already happened to him. One more lifetime was hardly surprising.         The memories surfaced in broken pieces, troubling Franz greatly. At his current age, no matter how rich one’s life experience might be, it could only belong to the past.         “Father, news has just arrived from Southeast Asia. Last night, William was called away by God.”         The familiar voice pulled Franz back to reality. He was no stranger to separation by life and death. Over the years, he had sent off far too many people.         Watching the number of familiar faces around him dwindle, he had thought he had grown used to it. Yet now that it was his own son, he still could not remain unmoved.         “What happened? How did William suddenly pass away? Did he leave any last words?”         Because Franz had abdicated early, his sons had followed his example. In recent years, they too had stepped down one after another and returned to Vienna to live out their retirement.         At a time when the Holy Roman Empire’s cohesion was at its strongest, the pattern of struggling overseas in one’s youth and returning home in old age had become popular even among the general public.         William had originally returned to Vienna as well. After two years, he grew bored and went back to Southeast Asia. No one had expected that this departure would become a final farewell.         “Yesterday was the national day of the Southeast Asian Archduchy. William drank a little too much at the banquet. When the attendants discovered him this morning, he was already gone. He left no last words.”         Frederick explained. It was clear that he, too, was shaken by the news. Yet this explanation was also the most reasonable one.         As a king, even a retired king, it was not easy for an accident to occur, especially on his own territory.         As they spoke, younger members of the Habsburgs arrived one after another. Clearly, Franz had been the last to be informed.         That made sense. News of this kind had to take his psychological endurance into account. At nearly a hundred years of age, he truly could not withstand much shock.         Franz raised his hand, stopping anyone from offering further comfort. In a calm voice, he said, “I understand. Make the arrangements for the funeral. For now, I would like to be alone.”         …         Gazing at the familiar palace and reflecting on the years gone by, Franz fell into deep contemplation.         The butterfly effect was formidable. With the Holy Roman Empire rising against the tide, the shape of the world had long since changed.         Especially over the past decade or two, as the Russian Empire was dismembered and the United States fractured further, the Holy Roman Empire’s hegemonic position only grew more secure.         A unipolar order had taken shape. Potential rivals cowered in the corners, fearful of becoming the Holy Roman government’s next target.         Against this backdrop, as long as the Holy Roman government refrained from stirring trouble, it was difficult for the international situation to descend into chaos.         With everything in hand and the overall situation favorable, there was no need for unnecessary agitation. As a result, the past decade or more had seen a remarkably harmonious world order.         Aside from a handful of countries still mired in civil war, disturbances were limited to the occasional colonial uprising. As for interstate wars, without the Holy Roman government’s approval, who would dare make a move?         After all, the United Nations was not an idle institution. Under the Holy Roman government’s impetus, the UN had become a genuine world police force.         Barring unforeseen events, this peace would likely persist for a long time, until the day the Holy Roman Empire itself squandered its accumulated strength and lost the capacity to stabilize the system.         What the future would bring was impossible to predict. In any case, Franz had no intention of doing anything further. The contingencies he had laid down were already more than sufficient.         Over the past twenty years, the Habsburg dynasty had successively established more than a dozen constituent states overseas, large and small. If even that could be swept away in one stroke, Franz would have nothing left to say.         A relaxation of international tensions did not equate to world peace. The Holy Roman government could mediate conflicts between states, but it could not resolve the internal contradictions within them.         The first to be affected were naturally the countries of the Americas, especially those unfortunate defeated states, which fell one after another into ethnic strife.         Next came the major European colonial empires, whose recent days had been anything but easy.         Where there was oppression, there was resistance. The nationalism once exported to fracture the Russian Empire had, in the end, rebounded upon everyone else.         Only now did they fully grasp the effectiveness of the Holy Roman government’s methods back then. But it was already too late. There were no longer any defeated states left to serve as convenient scapegoats to absorb the fallout.         People must ultimately face reality. After taking stock of the international situation and looking back over a lifetime of experiences, Franz had already realized that his time was running out.         At this point, past glory was no more than drifting clouds of yesterday. Questions of merit and fault could be left for later generations to judge.         After setting aside the grief over his son’s passing, Franz no longer had the heart to concern himself with anything else. At this moment, he only wanted to focus on piecing together the fragments of memory that kept surging through his mind.         “Ferdinand,” “Bulgarian Empire” … the memories gradually linked together in his consciousness, even as Franz’s physical condition declined sharply.         After seeing William off and living through the final birthday of his life, Franz, having reached the age of one hundred, finally approached the end of his journey.         On March 26, 1931, bathed in gentle sunlight, Emperor Franz closed his eyes.         …         As the story came to an end, on the other side, a man named Li Mu, who had just woken up, fell into confusion.         Who am I?         Am I Li Mu?         Or Franz?         Or perhaps Ferdinand?         The sudden addition of two lifetimes of memories completely left Li Mu at a loss.         Was it all a fleeting dream, a single illusory reverie, or evidence of multiple worlds? Li Mu had no idea.         There was only one thing he knew for certain. He had to get up quickly and go to work, or he would be late.         No matter how impressive he had been in his dreams, in reality he was just an overworked office worker. Even with two extra lifetimes of rich experience, they were of no practical use right now.         After all, in those dreams he had been born with a golden spoon, a natural ruler who was always catered to. There was no tale of a nobody struggling his way upward.         He finished washing up in the shortest time possible, grabbed his phone, rushed out of the rented apartment, and headed straight for the bus stop.         As he ran, he silently prayed that he would catch the bus. Otherwise, whether it meant taking a taxi or arriving late to work, the day’s pay would be gone.         Such was the plain and unadorned life of an ordinary person.

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