xymnovel Chapter 209 Storm on the Horizon
Chapter 209 Storm on the Horizon
The singing from the square below still echoed in the night sky.
But Constantine, on the balcony, already felt the bone-chilling cold coming from behind him.
He didn't need to look back; the way Alexandros appeared and the deathly silence alone were enough to explain everything.
problem occurs.
And it's a big deal.
Constantine gently patted Sophia's hand, his voice still gentle.
"It's late, darling, you should go back to your room and rest."
Sofia, being exceptionally perceptive, also sensed the sudden change in atmosphere. She glanced worriedly at her husband, then at the figure in the shadows by the door, and finally nodded.
"Connie, don't overwork yourself."
She tiptoed and left a light kiss on his cheek, then turned and strode into the palace.
Once Sofia disappeared, the warmth on the balcony vanished without a trace.
Constantine turned and walked toward Alexandros.
"Speak."
His voice was so calm that it didn't reveal a single ripple.
Alexandros strode forward and handed over the ominous telegram with both hands.
Constantine took the telegram.
The envelope was sealed with the toughest sealing wax, and the skull and crossbones symbol on it, under the light, looked like a grinning devil.
He used his fingernail to neatly and cleanly tear open the seal and pull out the telegram inside.
The telegram was short, containing only a few words, but every word felt like a heavy lead weight slamming into his eyes.
"Sultan approves. German advisory group deployed. Army reform initiated. Krupp order signed. Supreme authorization granted."
Constantine's fingers, gripping the telegram, turned slightly white at the knuckles.
He looked up at Alexandros.
"detail."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Alexandros's voice was extremely low, like a whisper, yet perfectly clear.
"Our intelligence network in Constantinople has risked their lives to verify all the information. The failure of this 'Ghost War,' and the diplomatic humiliation you inflicted on them at the press conference, are like a red-hot iron rod piercing the heart of the Ottoman Empire. They... are thoroughly provoked."
"The day after you celebrated the harvest festival, Ottoman Sultan Hamid II officially approved a comprehensive army modernization reform program codenamed 'Hammer of the Crescent.' This program will be fully led by a German military advisory group personally led by Prussia's most famous Field Marshal von der Goltz."
The name caused Constantine's pupils to contract almost imperceptibly.
Von der Goltz, an elite of the Prussian General Staff, was a fervent military reformer and a general with exceptional strategic vision. In another timeline, it was he who single-handedly forged the decaying Ottoman army into a formidable force in World War I, one that gave the Allied powers a bloody and agonizing experience.
Now, he has arrived.
Moreover, it happened a full year earlier than in history.
Alexandros continued his report without pausing:
"According to the intelligence we intercepted, their first step was to place an unprecedentedly huge order with Krupp using a special loan provided by Germany. This included the latest 75mm rapid-fire field guns and 150mm heavy howitzers. The quantity was enough to equip ten of their main divisions."
"The second step is that the German advisory group will take full control of the Ottoman Empire's military academies and train their officer corps from scratch using the most stringent Prussian standards."
"The third step is that they will abandon the outdated command system, completely replicate the German General Staff system, and reorganize their military command structure."
Alexandros's voice grew increasingly heavy.
"Your Highness, according to the assessment of our military experts, if this plan can be successfully implemented... in five years at most, or even just three years, the combat effectiveness of the Ottoman Army will undergo a complete transformation. They will no longer be a mob armed with outdated rifles, but a modern and powerful army with modern artillery, an excellent officer corps, and an efficient command system."
A terrible silence fell over the study.
The flames in the fireplace had gone out sometime ago.
Only the cold moonlight streamed in through the window, casting Constantine's long shadow.
He had just finished integrating a corrupt and chaotic Greece and had just drawn up an industrial blueprint for the country to become prosperous and strong.
His future and primary enemy, however, has already begun a more thorough and efficient modernization transformation, driven by both historical inertia and a more powerful external force.
It's like a race against time, a race against death.
He drove a hastily assembled carriage onto the track, only to discover that his opponent at the other end of the track had switched to a brand-new steam locomotive, handcrafted by the Germans.
"There's even worse news."
Alexandros's voice broke the deathly silence.
He handed over a second document, which was thicker and unencrypted, but whose contents were even more chilling than the telegram.
"Behind this push for reform, we have discovered an even more dangerous shadow. A secret officers' organization called the 'Association for Unity and Progress' is quietly rising within the Ottoman army like a virus. Europeans prefer to call them—the Young Turks."
"Our intelligence indicates that the core members of this organization are almost entirely young officers who studied in Western Europe. They are more radical, more fanatical, and more efficient than the aging Sultan."
"They subscribed to an extreme and dangerous Turkic nationalism, believing that the Ottoman Empire's decline was due to its lack of 'Turkic' character. They harbored hatred towards all non-Turkic peoples within the empire, especially us Greeks and Armenians."
"This army reform was ostensibly the Sultan's decision, but in reality, it was they who, behind the scenes, used nationalist sentiments to pressure the Sultan and conservative ministers, and ultimately brought it to fruition. Field Marshal von der Goltz was also the person they strongly advocated for to be invited."
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Alexandros's forehead. "Your Highness," he said, "this means that our future enemy will no longer be the corrupt, greedy, and easily divided Ottoman court, but a ruthless military group led by modern intellectuals and fanatical officers, with extreme nationalism at its core. I witnessed their rallies firsthand when I was disguised as a merchant in Constantinople. That fanaticism... that look in their eyes, dedicated to a vague dream of a 'Greater Turk,' was more chilling than any sword. They... are a hundred times more terrifying than the Sultan."
The air seemed to have solidified into a block of iron.
The bonfire of hope that Constantine had just lit seemed to be sizzling as if it had been doused with a bucket of ice water from the Bosphorus Strait.
The window of opportunity for Greece is closing rapidly, at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Constantine slowly walked to the window and opened it.
The last vestiges of the festive festivities have completely dissipated. The torches and candles in the square have also been extinguished.
He raised his head and looked at the pitch-black night sky in the east.
The cold stars shimmered indifferently against the velvety night sky.
He knew that the course of history had been altered because of his appearance. But the torrent of history continued to surge forward in its own way, even becoming more turbulent and violent because of his provocation.
A grander and more brutal showdown of fate, revolving around the Balkans, the Aegean Sea, and even Constantinople, is now inevitable.
A new, more powerful storm is rapidly gathering energy on the horizon.
He had to forge Greece, a ship whose blueprints had just been drawn up, into a fearless warship capable of breaking through the raging waves, as quickly as possible, before the storm swept everything away.
Constantine withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked towards the huge map in the study.
His face showed no fear, no retreat, only a cold fighting spirit, like that of a wild beast, fully unleashed after being forced to the edge of a cliff.
He picked up the red quill pen and drew a straight red line on the map from Athens to Thessaly.
railway!
We must build a strategic artery as quickly as possible to connect Thessaly's manpower and food supplies with Piraeus's industry and port!
This was his first, silent roar against the approaching storm.