It was early winter in London, and the air had begun to turn sharply cold.
Standing before the embassy that would now serve as his new post, Ambassador Albrecht Bernstorff let out a long breath as he looked up at the building before him.
London was not merely a large city.
It was the center of the world, a place that drew the attention of all Europe and, without exaggeration, the entire globe.
It was the most advanced city in existence, the forefront of an era where new systems, policies, and technologies appeared first.
Prussia and France were developing rapidly, but Berlin and Paris still fell short when compared to London.
Even if one did not like it, acknowledging reality was the only path to progress.
Serving here as an ambassador representing one's nation was no light responsibility.
Its importance far surpassed that of any other diplomatic post, and every nation carefully selected its finest candidates for this role.
Albrecht Bernstorff was no exception.
He was a prominent figure in Prussian politics, known to all.
He had spent years as a diplomat and had even served as Foreign Minister alongside Otto von Bismarck when Bismarck became Prime Minister.
That Prussia would send a former Foreign Minister as ambassador demonstrated how seriously it regarded this position.
Bernstorff fully understood the weight of his duty.
Before departing Berlin, Bismarck had spoken to him with unusual directness.
"I trust you understand how important your mission is at this moment."
"Do not worry. I will devote myself entirely to Prussia's interests."
The memory lingered.
"Welcome. I heard you have only recently arrived in London. Is there anything causing you inconvenience?"
"Thanks to your kind consideration, I have had no difficulties. May I ask when I might have an audience with His Majesty?"
Upon arriving in Britain, he had already greeted Her Imperial Majesty Empress Victoria and Prime Minister Charles Wellesley.
But they were not his true objective.
The man Bismarck had insisted he must build a close relationship with.
The one believed to be the power behind the British Empire.
His Majesty King Killian of Canada.
Making a favorable first impression on him was Bernstorff's primary task.
"His Majesty has also expressed interest in meeting you. However, would you mind meeting together with Marquis Charles de La Valette? If you prefer a private audience, we can arrange it."
"The Marquis de La Valette, the French ambassador? I have no objection. I am not here to negotiate any major treaty."
If that had been his purpose, he would have gone to the Prime Minister or the Foreign Secretary.
Following a royal attendant toward the office, he heard unexpected sounds.
Thud. Thud.
"…Panama… malaria…"
"…you don't know…"
The voices were muffled through the door, but they were clearly raised.
At first, it sounded like an argument.
Yet there was no anger in their tone.
It felt more like a heated exchange between close acquaintances.
Both Bernstorff and Marquis Charles de La Valette exchanged puzzled glances.
"Is someone already inside?"
"The Prime Minister arrived just moments ago. It should not take long."
"Does the Prime Minister visit His Majesty often?"
"Perhaps more than anyone except Her Imperial Majesty. If anyone else, then Benjamin Disraeli."
That was no secret.
The close relationship between Wellesley and the royal family was already well known.
But—
"I am telling you, I did not know either."
As he moved closer, the voices became clearer.
"Your Majesty, I understand your intentions, but at this rate I will be dragged down with you. You must give me a solution."
"I am not some future robotic cat. Calling my name will not produce tools from my pocket."
"I do not understand that metaphor at all."
This was not what he had expected.
Charles Wellesley was a man admired even by the proud Junkers of Prussia, one of the most renowned statesmen in the world.
Among diplomats, his name alone carried authority.
Students in Prussia were even asked to analyze the reasons behind his long tenure.
And yet,
And Killian.
There had been influential members of the British royal family before.
But for someone who was not even the monarch of Britain to wield such influence was unprecedented.
Ordinarily, such prominence would invite criticism.
Instead, speaking ill of him in Britain was dangerous.
Even foreign students were warned never to insult the royal family.
And yet here they were, speaking so casually.
"Your Majesty, the ambassadors of France and Prussia have arrived."
"Ah, is that so? Prime Minister, we will continue this later."
"As you wish."
The door opened.
Moments earlier, Wellesley had sounded like a different man.
Now he carried the same overwhelming presence as before.
Bernstorff quickly entered ahead of La Valette.
"Your Majesty, it is an honor. I am Albrecht Bernstorff, newly appointed ambassador."
"Marquis Charles de La Valette."
"A pleasure. It has been some time since I spoke with ambassadors directly. It reminds me how much time has passed."
Coffee and light refreshments were served.
They exchanged polite conversation for some time.
Ordinarily, discussions with the royal family ended in such formalities.
But this was different.
His Majesty King Killian was not merely a royal figure.
He was the King of Canada and the central figure of the Empire's Asian policy.
His words carried the weight of policy.
After several topics, La Valette spoke first.
"I hear tensions in North America are rising. How is Canada affected?"
"You mean the conflict between Spain and the United States?"
"Indeed. We are concerned as well, especially regarding Panama."
"There is no issue. The conflict will remain around Cuba and Puerto Rico."
The ambassadors focused intently.
They needed to understand his intentions.
Then, without warning, he spoke.
"The British Empire will remain neutral."
Silence followed.
"The North will take Cuba. The South will take Puerto Rico."
Neither ambassador had known this.
Such information was invaluable.
And yet he offered it freely.
Why?
"We are allies, after all. We should support one another."
They smiled, though confusion lingered.
Then La Valette pressed further.
"We have also heard that the Empire is negotiating in Asia."
"That is correct."
"And your intentions?"
Killian answered without hesitation.
"After the war, we may purchase the territories Japan occupies, assuming Qing recognizes them."
Bernstorff was stunned.
Why reveal this?
Then came the true proposal.
"We would be willing to sell some of those territories to France and Prussia."
Both ambassadors froze.
What kind of diplomacy was this?
"What do you gain from this?"
Killian lifted his cup calmly.
"You."
Bernstorff closed his eyes briefly.
Being an ambassador was no easy task.
***
The youngest minister in the history of the British Empire.
Unmatched support for the royal family that surpassed any other monarchy in the world.
And the achievement of raising Canada, once not particularly prominent, into a power comparable to the great nations of Europe.
A man who had accomplished all of this alone could not possibly be ordinary.
From the very beginning, Ambassador Albrecht Bernstorff had come fully prepared for this meeting.
A conversation he had shared with Otto von Bismarck before departing for London resurfaced in his mind.
"Minister… no, you will now be an ambassador. I regret assigning you such a role."
"Not at all. I would have refused any other post, but serving as ambassador to the British Empire is different. I am honored to take on such responsibility."
"To be honest, I would go myself if I could. It is unfortunate that I cannot."
"You would go personally? Is it truly that significant?"
Otto von Bismarck was the Prime Minister of Prussia and, in practice, its true ruler.
His authority did not come from noble lineage, but from his own ability.
And yet even he spoke with such caution.
Bernstorff immediately understood that this was not simply because the British Empire was powerful.
"Is there anything I should be particularly careful about? I am already aware that Prime Minister Charles Wellesley is an extraordinary man."
"There is another. The Prince Consort of the Empire."
"You mean the King of Canada. Of course, I will be cautious. He is already considered a key figure."
"Then be twice as cautious as that."
"…Is he truly so dangerous?"
Bismarck had interacted with Killian more than anyone else in Prussia.
The foreign ministry's assessment had been different.
Killian was described as gentle, modest, and unusually trustworthy for a Briton.
"Rather than dangerous, he is… no, it is best to consider him dangerous. When interests align, there is no one better. But if you stand against him, the consequences will be severe."
"That assessment has not appeared in any report."
"This is only my personal judgment. Based on outcomes. But I am certain of it."
Bernstorff decided to take those words seriously.
Whether Bismarck was right or not, one thing was clear.
He had to remain on the same side as Killian.
Only then could Prussia obtain what it truly desired.
There is no such thing as a free meal.
That was especially true in international diplomacy.
No ambassador could fail to understand that.
A generous ally who gives endlessly.
A benevolent leader who acts only for others.
Such figures exist only in fiction.
Even in stories, they often reveal hidden motives in the end.
Neither Bernstorff nor Marquis Charles de La Valette would believe Killian's words at face value.
Both had spent decades in diplomacy.
That was precisely why they were confused.
What is he trying to achieve?
"What do you mean when you say we are what remains?"
"It simply means that we value our allies."
"But…"
Naturally, they sought the hidden intention.
I had already prepared an explanation.
"This is not free. You will pay for what you receive. And in return, you must allow us to acquire territory from Qing."
"Which territories?"
"Hainan and Taiwan."
"Both are islands."
La Valette examined the map.
"Part of Taiwan is already under British control. The rest belongs to Qing?"
"Japanese forces have occupied most of it."
"So you intend to purchase it during negotiations. Including Hainan."
"Exactly."
"What is their population?"
"Approximately one million combined."
The two exchanged glances as they calculated.
"And the Philippines?"
"It already has an established administrative system. We will transfer it as it is."
"And you are certain you will acquire it?"
"Spain cannot repay its debts. If it loses the war, it will have no choice."
The logic was clear.
The North and South would take Spain's American territories.
Spain would be left with Asia.
And debt.
The Philippines would be the only asset it could offer.
"The population is around five million. This seems excessively favorable to us."
"It is not. Our interests differ. You would gain little from Taiwan or Hainan, but we already have nearby territories. Combined with Hong Kong and Shanghai, they become valuable."
The explanation made sense.
The two ambassadors studied the map.
"You arranged this meeting for this proposal from the beginning?"
"Of course."
"And your government has already approved this?"
"My authority covers Asian policy."
That answer was enough.
Mentioning division meant acceptance.
Competition had begun.
France spoke first.
"We will take Luzon. Prussia may take Visayas and Mindanao."
"That is unreasonable. Luzon contains the most fertile land."
Arguments followed.
They debated openly.
As if the Philippines already belonged to them.
In reality, Spain had not even lost the war yet.
I watched quietly.
Competition was useful.
Eventually, Bernstorff spoke.
"Very well. We will yield Luzon to France."
La Valette froze.
"You can decide that here?"
"I have been granted authority."
"Does Bismarck know of this?"
"He has given me discretion."
Then Bernstorff made his move.
He glanced briefly at me before continuing.
"This is not a concession without condition."
"What condition?"
He turned back to La Valette.
"You agreed to support Prussia's leadership of the German Confederation. It is time to fulfill that agreement."
La Valette's hand trembled slightly.
Now the real negotiation had begun.
***
Marquis Charles de La Valette had not wanted to come to London.
The post of ambassador to London was considered one of the most important in France, but that only meant there was more to worry about.
The reason was simple. France and the British Empire were too close.
Whenever something truly important occurred, the Prime Minister himself would cross the Channel, leaving the ambassador with little room to act.
It was a position of great importance, yet the most important matters were handled by others.
For that reason, London was not a particularly desirable posting for French ambassadors.
La Valette had intended to enjoy what he could and return without trouble.
After all, if something serious happened, Adolphe Thiers would simply come in person.
That was why he had never expected to face such a difficult situation.
"The German Confederation… I do recall such an agreement existed. However, this matter…"
"I believe the British Empire is already aware of it. Is that correct?"
"Of course."
His Majesty King Killian nodded without the slightest change in expression.
Damn it. Why would the Prime Minister make such a promise?
In truth, if France had fought the North alone, it would have suffered heavy losses.
From that perspective, bringing Prussia in, even with an empty promise, had been the correct decision.
The problem was that the time had come to pay for that promise.
"On reflection, since France will honor its agreement, it would be improper for us to appear greedy. That is why we are making a concession. The negotiation is merely a formality."
La Valette let out a hollow laugh.
"You may take not only Luzon, but Cebu as well. For us, simply securing a foothold in Asia is sufficient."
For Prussia, gaining leadership of the German Confederation was a lifelong goal.
Giving up two-thirds of the Philippines was a price they were willing to pay.
But for France, allowing Prussia to grow that strong was dangerous.
Even for the British Empire, that outcome would not be ideal.
And yet Killian simply watched with a faint smile.
Why?
La Valette clenched his jaw.
"Ha. Ha."
Glasses clinked, and wine swirled.
"Your Majesty, I can always rely on you."
"Was that not the same man who demanded solutions earlier?"
"Was it? I should reprimand him immediately."
Wellesley pointed at his reflection and scolded himself before returning with a shrug.
"Problem solved."
Killian smiled.
"Very moving."
Wellesley cleared his throat.
"Then the Panama matter will proceed as discussed. In return, you want the Philippines and the German Confederation handled."
"Exactly. The Philippines does not suit our colonial model. It is better to sell it and focus on Qing."
"And the German Confederation?"
"I told you this would happen eventually."
The fragmentation and unification of Germany was inevitable.
France had already agreed to support Prussia.
Prussia would take leadership.
However, allowing Prussia to absorb Austria entirely was unacceptable.
Precautions were necessary.
"Will France support Prussia?"
"They must. At this point, they will seek compensation elsewhere."
"Then Austria becomes the issue."
Austria was still a great power.
But the outcome might be quicker than expected.
"Rising powers often defeat declining ones faster than anticipated."
"Like Spain."
"Exactly."
Spain could not coordinate its strength.
Its defeat was inevitable.
The same pattern appeared elsewhere.
"Qing as well."
"Yes. Though Austria is not as weak."
Old empires were falling.
New powers were rising.
It was the nature of the age.
Wellesley looked at the map.
"Will we fall as well?"
"Zero percent."
Killian answered without hesitation.
"I will not allow it."
History showed that all empires eventually declined.
But the future was no longer fixed.
It was changing.
Nations, like markets, can always fall further than expected.
Qing proved this.
Joseon had never expected to occupy all of Manchuria.
The original plan had been limited.
Advance, observe, adjust.
But Qing failed to respond.
Battles occurred, but they were one-sided.
Confidence turned into ambition.
"Are we strong?"
"Victory!"
Reports of victory spread daily.
The government was swept up in the momentum.
Kim Jwa-geun wanted to stop.
He could not.
"General Eo Jae-yeon has advanced again."
"That was only a few hundred troops."
"That means Qing can only send that many."
"Japan has already defeated Qing's navy and taken most of Taiwan."
"…Japan?"
The war had escalated beyond expectations.
Even Europe remained passive.
And support had come from powerful financiers.
"This is our chance."
"We must advance further."
Even the king's title was discussed.
"Should we not call him Your Majesty?"
The momentum could not be stopped.
Kim Jwa-geun closed his eyes.
"Very well. Let us present this to His Majesty."
The train had lost its brakes.
Now it would only stop when it crashed.
***
Ōkubo Toshimichi was, in many ways, an unusual figure by the standards of Japan.
Others in power were not absolutely loyal to the Emperor either, but Ōkubo was far more detached than most.
He believed in reason over emotion and insisted that politics should be conducted from a strictly objective standpoint.
Efficiency was everything.
An ideal state, in his view, was one where capable leaders guided the people with clear direction while still respecting public opinion.
By that standard, Japanese politics was deeply inefficient.
Using the Emperor as a symbol to unite the people was acceptable.
He had no intention of denying the tradition of imperial reverence that had already taken root.
But the sight of declining houses such as the Tokugawa and various daimyo wielding influence in the upper house was intolerable.
He had accommodated them outwardly while quietly stripping away their real power.
If things continued as planned, another ten years would have been enough to establish a rational political system.
It could have succeeded.
But,
[In accordance with the will of His Majesty the Emperor, we shall raise the spirit of the Yamato people and establish colonies on the continent.]
Absurd fantasies worthy of Toyotomi Hideyoshi.
[We will divide the continent with Joseon after its annexation of Manchuria, advancing to the Yangtze.]
[If necessary, we will cooperate with the British Empire, France, and Prussia to partition Qing.]
These ideas were now being discussed seriously within the military.
Ōkubo could no longer endure it.
The madness had already gone beyond his control.
The entire nation had fallen into frenzy.
At the beginning, there had been doubts about the war.
Now the streets were filled with people shouting and weeping.
"Long live His Majesty the Emperor."
"Long live the Empire of Japan."
Victories continued.
Qing's forces were defeated.
Territory was seized.
The Emperor's divinity was emphasized more than ever.
Within the government, no one could oppose the momentum.
It was no different from what was happening in neighboring Joseon.
Even so, Ōkubo believed he still had a voice.
Or rather, he felt he had no choice but to act.
"Why is this working?"
At the start, he had intended to use the war to his advantage.
Early victories were expected.
The military would grow overconfident.
They would overextend.
Then Qing would counterattack.
Losses would mount.
He would use that moment to crush the military's influence.
That had been the plan.
But Qing did not respond as expected.
Even obvious flaws in Japanese strategy were not punished.
The military simply advanced.
"They cannot possibly keep succeeding."
And yet they did.
Even Saigō Takamori could not restrain them.
Ōkubo raged, but it was useless.
The military had unified.
The navy demanded total victory.
The army agreed, not out of respect, but to claim its share of glory.
Ōkubo decided to let them continue.
If Qing recovered and struck back, the military would collapse on its own.
Then he would act.
That was his calculation.
Then the decisive naval battle occurred.
Qing possessed stronger ships and greater resources.
Ōkubo had expected a narrow victory.
Instead, Qing collapsed.
The Guangdong Fleet was destroyed.
The Beiyang Fleet lost more than half its strength.
Another victory.
A complete victory.
Ōkubo could not understand it.
"Why do we keep winning?"
The army's demands escalated further.
"Now is the time to invade the continent."
"Should we not end the war now with favorable terms?"
"Impossible. This is our chance."
Opposition was no longer tolerated.
Even ministers who argued for restraint were assassinated.
The killers were praised.
The situation had become insane.
Then came new reports.
Joseon intended to mobilize additional forces and occupy all of Manchuria.
"Joseon plans to proclaim an empire."
Ōkubo stared in disbelief.
The world had gone mad.
He felt like the only sane man left.
"Prime Minister, seek permission from His Majesty for a full invasion."
He complied.
There was no other choice.
Later, alone in his office, he paused.
He faced the direction of London and knelt.
He would likely have to do this in reality one day.
Then he began to write.
[To His Majesty King Killian. I have failed to restrain the military as instructed. The situation has spiraled beyond control. Even Joseon has joined this madness. Those who call for peace are branded traitors and assassinated. This cannot be resolved internally. External intervention is required. If the British Empire or France were to act, this chaos might end. If Your Majesty has a plan, I beg you to guide me.]
He wrote carefully, leaving a clear record.
Even if he was condemned for failure, it was better than the destruction of the nation.
This was not the time to hesitate.
***
While Qing was being battered in Asia, a similar situation was unfolding on the opposite side of the world in the American continent.
Once the war began, the combined forces of the North and South struck Spain relentlessly, giving it no time to recover.
The northern navy entered Guantánamo Bay and captured the fortress, after which the joint forces landed in Cuba without resistance.
Encouraged by the North's promise of support, local Cuban independence groups rose up across the island, throwing Spain into immediate chaos.
Even with a proper command structure, it would have been difficult to respond. Spain was not prepared at all.
Attempting to defend both fronts at once, Spain dispersed its forces, only to have its main strength destroyed by the combined armies. Santiago soon fell.
In just one month, Spain completely lost Cuba.
Only then did Spain come to its senses and hastily assemble a fleet from the mainland, but the timing could not have been worse.
If they intended to send a fleet, it should have been done before Cuba fell. Acting afterward served no purpose.
The fleet that crossed the Atlantic achieved nothing, turned back, and was intercepted by the northern navy and destroyed.
Even though a proper engagement could have resulted in a fierce battle, Spain instead suffered a one-sided defeat and lost control of the Caribbean.
The outcome was so absurd that some in the North speculated that President Abraham Lincoln had planted spies within Spain beforehand.
"Your Excellency truly is remarkable."
"We never imagined you had prepared such measures."
"Not at all."
Lincoln himself was puzzled.
Why was everything proceeding so easily?
He had expected losses when going to war with Spain. Spain was objectively stronger than Mexico, and the war with Mexico had already been costly.
Yet this war resulted in even fewer losses.
At the same time, anger began to rise within him.
Such a weak nation had interfered repeatedly in their affairs.
Public sentiment grew more intense with each victory.
"Crush them completely."
The combined forces advanced into Puerto Rico, where Spain once again collapsed without resistance.
Roughly three hundred seventy years after Columbus reached the New World, Spain lost everything it had built there.
Spain faced a decision.
End the war or continue fighting at the risk of national collapse.
Debate continued in parliament and among the public, but Spain ultimately chose to seek peace.
Continuing the war risked total ruin, even in victory.
And even victory would not guarantee that the United States would stop fighting.
Spain no longer had the capacity to continue.
It was the miserable end of a once great empire.
Not defeated by Britain, France, or Prussia, but by the United States.
In the past, Spain could at least claim disadvantages when fighting overseas.
This time, even at sea, it suffered a crushing defeat.
The gap in strength had not been overwhelming, yet the result was humiliating.
For a once-great power, such a defeat was devastating.
Spain could no longer deny its decline.
Once morale collapsed, the outcome was inevitable.
The remaining issue was public opinion within the United States.
"Spain has proposed a peace treaty."
"They collapse after only a few months. We should have crushed them earlier."
"What is your decision, sir?"
"The South is inclined to end the war. Friedrich Engels has indicated they will not oppose a treaty if we agree."
"Public opinion favors continuing into Asia and seizing Spain's colonies."
The public did not seek expansion.
They wanted revenge.
"Such action is unnecessary. Spain will lose Asia regardless."
Though the agreement had not been written, it was effectively in motion.
The British Empire would conclude matters.
Lincoln made his decision.
"We will seek peace. Ask the British Empire to mediate."
"And public opinion?"
"Emphasize total victory. Spain has lost everything. That will satisfy them."
One issue remained.
"What of Cuba?"
The original justification for war had been Cuban independence.
In reality, the United States had no intention of granting it.
Cuba's strategic value was too great, especially with the South as a future rival.
Lincoln reached his conclusion.
"Announce that we will follow public opinion."
"Yes."
"Support factions favorable to us. Promote the idea that Cuba requires protection for now."
It would become a protectorate in all but name.
The war against Spain was only the beginning.
The real struggle would come afterward.
[Breaking News. Spain proposes surrender to the United States.]
[What is Spain's fate. What is the responsibility of the British Empire in this chaotic era.]
[Will the United States advance into the Pacific.]
[Prussia and Austria tensions rise.]
[Chaos intensifies in Asia. Are Hong Kong and Shanghai safe.]
[Malaria spreads. Can the Panama Canal be completed.]
Every newspaper reported something different.
Events were unfolding everywhere at once.
To outsiders, it appeared chaotic.
The British Empire seemed inactive despite being at the center of the world.
Some criticized the government for passivity.
But those who understood waited patiently.
Neither Prime Minister Charles Wellesley nor I reacted to the noise.
It was better this way.
The more attention the world drew to these events, the more effective the outcome would be.
"Your Majesty, the United States has expressed willingness to conclude a treaty."
"Faster than expected. I thought they would last another month."
The message arrived as I was reading Ōkubo Toshimichi's letter.
One side continued to escalate beyond control.
The other chose to stop at the right moment.
The contrast was striking.
"Proceed as planned. Inform them that the British Empire will mediate the peace in London."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I will have Edward attend as representative."
Spain was settled.
Now only Asia remained.
"Hong Kong and Shanghai await instructions."
"Tell them to observe."
France had already declared neutrality.
I intended to cooperate for now.
Japan and Joseon were still manageable.
If they overstepped, they could be cut down.
Japan, Joseon, Qing.
All would eventually be placed on the same table.
I folded Ōkubo's letter and put it away.
Then I sent a brief reply.
Endure a little longer.
Do not get yourself killed.
When the time comes, you will be rewarded.
***ANNOUNCEMENT***
Starting today I will be releasing 1 chapter for every 100 powerstones.
STONE ME!!!