xymnovel Chapter 325 The Boiling Point of Piraeus
Chapter 325 The Boiling Point of Piraeus
Chapter 325 The Boiling Point of Piraeus
The day before the fleet arrived at the port of Piraeus, news of the victory had already spread throughout Athens by telegram.
The full text of the Treaty of London was published on the front page of every newspaper. Crete! Southern Epirus! These two names, which had haunted the Greeks for more than half a century, were finally, in an indisputable legal form, re-engraved on the map of Greece.
The entire city of Athens went mad.
People poured out of their homes and onto the streets. They waved newspapers, embraced strangers, and wept with joy. Long-suppressed national emotions erupted completely at that moment.
When news arrived the following morning that the Crown Prince's fleet was about to arrive, tens of thousands of citizens spontaneously surged towards the port of Piraeus. Every road from Athens to the port was completely blocked. Blue and white national flags fluttered in the air, forming an endless sea of people.
Inside the harbor, all the merchant ships, regardless of their country of origin, conscientiously hoisted their full flags. The resounding blasts of ship horns echoed throughout the Saronic Gulf, like bugles welcoming returning heroes.
A long red carpet had already been laid out on the dock.
King George I, dressed in a magnificent army marshal's uniform, stood at the head of the red carpet. Even this king, known for his composure, could not hide his excitement. Behind him were all the government officials, the speaker of parliament, army and navy generals, and all the ambassadors from various countries stationed in Greece.
At the very front of the crowd, Crown Princess Sofia stood alone, quietly.
She wore a pure white long dress, the well-tailored hem fluttering gently in the sea breeze, like the surging waves of the Aegean Sea.
She wore no luxurious jewelry, only a small double-headed eagle emblem inlaid with sapphires and diamonds pinned to her chest. Her long golden hair was blown by the sea breeze, with a few strands playfully brushing against her smooth forehead.
Her gaze passed over the crowd before her, over the surging waves below, and remained fixed on the horizon.
Finally, the massive silhouette of the armored cruiser, painted in silver-gray, came into view.
"They're here!"
Someone in the crowd shouted.
The next second, the entire port was in complete uproar!
Cheers, whistles, and sirens merged into a massive wave of sound that soared into the sky, as if to shake the clouds apart.
The "George Evrov," under the watchful eyes of the crowd, slowly approached the dock. Its massive hull cast a shadow in the sunlight, exuding an unparalleled sense of oppression.
The ropes were thrown down, and the gangway was slowly lowered and placed steadily on the red carpet.
At that moment, all the noise in the entire port miraculously fell silent.
Tens of thousands of eyes converged on one point.
Constantine appeared on the deck.
He wore a crisp, pure white naval admiral's uniform. Bathed in sunlight, the uniform reflected a dazzling light, the double-headed eagle embroidered in gold thread on his epaulets resembling flowing molten gold. Long sea voyages had given his skin a healthy bronze hue, a striking contrast to the snow-white uniform. His blue eyes swept over the dark, bustling crowd below. Beneath his calm expression lay a suppressed power capable of stirring up a storm.
He stood quietly at the top of the gangway, his posture upright and strong.
He is like the marble statue of Paros that has just risen from the seabed, carrying the hopes and glory of the entire nation.
The silence lasted only three seconds.
"Constantine!"
"Constantine!"
"Our heroes!"
The cheers were deafening, louder than ever before! People chanted his name wildly, waving their flags as if welcoming an invincible hero from ancient mythology.
Constantine raised his hand and waved to the crowd.
He stepped down the gangway.
His first stop was before his father. He stopped, brought his feet together, and gave George I an impeccable military salute.
"Father, I'm back."
The old king's eyes welled up with tears. He said nothing, but stepped forward and embraced his son tightly. He patted Constantine's strong back heavily, repeatedly saying in heavily accented Danish Greek, "Well done! My son! Well done!"
After the father and son parted, Constantine's gaze passed through the crowd and landed on the woman in the white dress.
He walked toward Sofia.
Under the spotlight, he didn't utter a single romantic word.
He simply stood in front of her, and then, slowly, knelt down on one knee.
He took Sophia's hand, which was gloved with white lace, and placed a very solemn kiss on the back of her hand.
Sofia's body trembled almost imperceptibly.
This kiss speaks louder than a thousand words.
Constantine stood up without lingering. He turned to face the surging crowd and walked to the prepared podium.
He cleared his throat, and the entire harbor fell silent once more.
"My fellow countrymen!"
His voice, transmitted through a primitive, sheet metal megaphone, echoed throughout the entire dock.
"Today, we stand here not to celebrate the victory of a war, but to welcome the beginning of peace."
"The land has returned. Those brothers and sisters who have wandered for hundreds of years are about to return to their mother's embrace. But our work has only just begun!"
His gaze swept over every excited and fervent face below.
"Reclaiming lost territory is only the first step. Our enemies have never been just the Ottomans. Poverty, backwardness, and division—these are the real enemies we need to defeat!"
"I promise you that from this day forward, every inch of land we acquire will become fertile ground for development! Every drop of blood we shed will become the cornerstone of industry!"
"9
He opened his arms as if to embrace the entire country.
"To build a prosperous and powerful Greece worthy of our glorious history! This is our shared and greatest mission!"
His words, like a clear spring, extinguished the overly fervent flames of nationalism in the crowd. The people's gaze was successfully guided from revenge against the past to building a better future.
The crowd erupted in cheers again, but this time, there was something else in the cheers: "hope."