1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 280 The dignity of the law must be respected.

Chapter 280 The dignity of the law must be respected.

The Marquess of Salisbury's clenched fists revealed the sharp outline of his knuckles in the lamplight. His face, covered by a thick beard, was taut like a granite block. Venizelos's final blow was not aimed at the Ottomans, but at him, at the pride of the British Empire.

Venizelos's words were still echoing in the conference hall, but he didn't stop. He turned towards the head of the table, bowed deeply again, his posture respectful, yet his tone so sincere it sent chills down one's spine.

"Therefore, Your Excellency Marquis, we fully understand and support your determination to uphold the sanctity of the treaty."

"All the actions of the Greek army, in the final analysis, are precisely to help the British Empire fulfill the solemn promise you made to all the oppressed people of the Baltic Peninsula in the Treaty of Berlin!"

He raised his head and looked directly at the Marquess of Salisbury.

"From this perspective, we are allies, not enemies!"

"boom!"

This statement was more damaging than all the previous legal arguments combined. It utterly shattered the carefully woven facade of the British as "arbitrators." Then, piece by piece, the fragments were stitched back together, transforming into a Greek battle flag.

We sent troops to help the British clean up their mess!

We bleed to uphold the laws you British people made!

How can you punish your "ally"?

The Marquess of Salisbury's face turned from gloomy to ashen. He wanted to retort, but found himself trapped in a moral dilemma created by his own country. Every word of rebuttal would be a denial of past treaties and a self-attack on the international credibility of the British Empire.

The conference room was deathly silent.

Count Andreas and his entourage had gone from initial fear to a near-dumbfounded awe. They stared at Venizelos's retreating figure as if they were looking at a sophist who had stepped out of mythology.

In the suffocating silence, an elegant and clear voice broke the deadlock.

The French ambassador, a well-dressed, middle-aged diplomat with a neatly trimmed mustache, cleared his throat. He picked up his glass, took a small sip of water, and then spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Mr. Venizelos's remarks were very insightful."

His voice was soft, carrying a salon-like composure.

"The French Republic, as the founder and defender of modern legal codes, has always believed that the dignity of the law should be unconditionally respected under all circumstances."

These words did not explicitly support Greece, nor did they mention any specific terms. But the signal they sent was like a lightning bolt, illuminating the entire chessboard.

On the high ground of "law," the French stepped forward. His speech was grand and dignified, but Constantine understood that behind the elegant rhetoric lay ambition for the Nile, a covetousness for the Suez Canal, and a challenge to the global hegemony of the British Empire. International politics has never been about justice, only about the alliances and conflicts of interest. And what Venizelos did was provide the perfect pretext for all his "allies" to intervene.

The Marquess of Salisbury's eye twitched. He glanced at his French colleague, who returned a polite but emotionless smile. Behind that smile lay control of the Nile, the division of West African colonies, the long-standing "historical friendship" between the two countries, and countless open and covert struggles in the arena of interests.

The French were happy to see the British stumble, even if only in this meeting room, even if only verbally.

A crowbar was inserted into a gap in the alliance of the great powers.

"That's right!"

A rough voice with a heavy Slavic accent immediately followed.

Captain Vasily Orlov, the ambassador of Tsarist Russia, slammed his hand on the table. The water glasses on the table jumped.

"More importantly, it's about faith!" His face, flushed with frustration, now radiated excitement. "We cannot turn a blind eye to the suffering of our Orthodox brothers! The Ottomans must pay the price in blood for their atrocities!"

His speech was blunt and direct, filled with religious fanaticism and national ambition. But objectively, he also took a stand against the British plan.

If the French are a crowbar, then the Russians are a hammer that comes crashing down.

The crack was instantly widened!

The Austro-Hungarian representative, a gloomy-looking and somber nobleman, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up as the situation began to spiral out of control.

He adjusted his monocle and said in a deliberate and slow German, "The legal basis cited by Mr. Venizelos has a historical context far more complex than we initially expected. I believe that before making any decisions, we need to conduct a more careful and comprehensive study of all relevant historical treaties."

This is typical diplomatic language.

The translation is: This water is too muddy; the Austro-Hungarian Empire will not get involved for the time being.

Thus, the united front of the great powers, which the Marquis of Salisbury had personally built to quickly divide the spoils of the Greek war, was shattered in just half an hour by Venizelos's linguistic artistry and the deep-seated contradictions between the nations.

The once-unbreakable alliance has completely shattered.

The Marquess of Salisbury's gaze slowly swept across the room. The smiles of the French, the fervor of the Russians, the hesitation of the Austrians, the indifference of the Germans—

He originally planned to use a lightning diplomatic strike to strip Greece of all its gains and re-establish the British Empire's unquestionable dominance in the Eastern Mediterranean.

But now, this meeting has been dragged into the quagmire he least wanted to see.

A never-ending tug-of-war over legal principles, history, religion, and human rights.

He knew that his blitzkrieg had completely failed.

He picked up the small silver gavel on the table, ready to adjourn the meeting.