1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 216 The Struggle at Dawn

Daylight had fully broken. Constantine, dressed in a well-fitting military uniform, emerged from his study. Alexandros Dimitriopoulos was already waiting outside, carrying several documents and a new map. A page hurried by, reporting that King George I had summoned cabinet ministers and key military officials to the Royal Conference Room. The atmosphere inside was colder than a winter harbor. King George I sat in the main seat, his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest. On the map before him, the border between Thessaly and the Ottomans was marked sharply in red. Tension hung heavy in the air.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer's face was paler than the deficit displayed in his ledgers. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, his voice trembling with tears: "Your Majesty, the treasury is empty! We can't even afford to pay next month's civil servants' salaries, let alone wage war! That would bankrupt us!"

The Minister of War, an old general who had fought in the War of Independence, his beard twitching, shouted: "Bankruptcy? Dignity is more important than money! The Turks are already riding on our necks! We must teach them a lesson!" He represented the courage of the conservatives in the army, a courage that disregarded costs.

Before he could finish speaking, an attendant's voice rang out from the doorway: "His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived!"

Constantine entered the conference room to the announcement of his attendant. He stood tall and imposing in a well-tailored dark military uniform, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere around him. He saluted his father, then calmly walked to the enormous map. His gaze swept over the crowd without a trace of emotion, as if this were not a meeting to decide the fate of the nation, but rather his private chessboard.

Constantine's calm infuriated the old general. He stepped forward, pointed to the Thessalian border on the map, and exclaimed, "Your Highness! You've come at the right time! Please tell His Majesty that Greek soldiers never fear sacrifice!"

Constantine ignored him. He took a new map and several documents from Alexandros and slowly unfolded them over the old map. He spoke in an almost cold tone: "General, sacrifice must be worthwhile. Pointless sacrifice is not honorable, it's foolish." The entire conference room fell silent instantly. His gaze, like a sharp sword, swept across the faces of every general. In the eyes of those veterans, there was incomprehension, anger, and even more so, a shock at these words.

George I withdrew his fingers from the armrest. He looked at his son, his eyes filled with scrutiny and a hint of expectation. He knew Constantine wouldn't speak without reason.

"Your Majesty," Constantine said, looking not at anyone but at the map, his finger lightly tapping Thessaly, "In the past, we Greeks paid a heavy price for Bulgaria's foolish actions. Seven years ago, we were utterly defeated by the Ottomans and forced to cede territory and pay reparations. Aren't these lessons profound enough?"

His words struck like a hammer blow to the hearts of everyone present. Those politicians and generals who had once advocated for war but ultimately suffered defeat were utterly ashamed in the face of Constantine's cold words.

The Minister of War's face turned purple, and he tried to retort, "Your Highness! We...we just..."

"They've simply been blinded by false nationalism and lack a clear understanding of the nation's true strength," Constantine said, his voice flat and emotionless, silencing the Secretary of the Army's defense.

Constantine picked up a report handed to him by Alexandros and opened it. The densely packed data on it made everyone uneasy.

"I have a report from the War Department. It states how long our army can hold out in the event of a full-scale war." Constantine looked up at the Minister of War.

The old general's beard trembled more violently, and his lips moved, but he couldn't utter a single word.

"One month," Constantine stated directly, his voice cold. "The War Ministry estimates that if fully mobilized, our army can barely hold out for a month. But during that month, the military expenditure will completely empty the national treasury. The Chancellor of the Exchequer's concerns are not unfounded."

He slammed the report on the table, making a sharp sound.

"What can a month of perseverance bring? Victory? Or even greater humiliation?"

The meeting room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. George I's brow was furrowed deeply. Constantine's words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the fervent calls for war.

Constantine continued, his voice carrying an undeniable calm: "Although the Ottoman Empire is weakened, it remains a balancing force in the eyes of the great powers. Any attempt to completely overthrow the Ottoman Empire will provoke intervention from the European powers. Britain, France, and Russia will not stand idly by and allow Greece to become the sole hegemon in the Balkans. Their fleets and their loans are enough to bring down any rash Greek government immediately."

He pointed to the densely packed international borders on the map, and then to Greece's isolated location in the Aegean Sea.

"We are a small country. Small countries have their own way of surviving." Constantine's tone shifted, a hint of emotion appearing in his voice for the first time. "We can fight with courage, but we must strive with wisdom. To obtain the greatest benefit with the least cost—that is true responsibility to the country and its people."

The Secretary of War and the Secretary of the Exchequer exchanged bewildered glances. Constantine's words had hit the nail on the head. The Secretary of the Exchequer had heard "minimum cost," while the Secretary of War had heard "strive for the benefit."

King George I finally spoke, his voice low and deep: "Connie, now that you've mentioned the problem, you must already have a solution. Tell me, what is your plan?"

Constantine turned to face his father. His gaze was no longer cold; instead, it held a deep confidence.

He picked up the scroll Alexandros had handed him again and slowly unrolled it. It was a frontline map, marked with more detailed troop deployments and strategic points.

"Your Majesty," Constantine's voice was steady and powerful. "The Ottoman Empire, though seemingly vast, is actually terminally ill. Their army, like a massive body, lacks coordination in its limbs. We can use surgical methods to strike with precision."

His finger traced the map. A completely new strategic concept was slowly emerging in the oppressive conference room. All eyes were fixed on Constantine's finger and every word he uttered. The meeting was now entirely under the control of this young crown prince.