Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 71 The Eternal Victoria

This scene in Montana was naturally witnessed by the people near the port.

In the crowd, a man dressed in ordinary worker's clothes silently watched the fleet disappear on the horizon, his eyes flickering uncertainly.

He exclaimed in surprise, just like those around him, and discussed it with a few other acquaintances.

After watching for a while, the man quietly left the crowd and turned into a dark alley next to him.

After winding through the alleys, he finally arrived at a house that looked long abandoned.

The man cautiously surveyed his surroundings, and only after confirming that no one was following him did he push open the creaking wooden door and slip inside.

He skillfully made his way to the second floor of the house, moved aside a dilapidated wardrobe, and revealed a small, hidden compartment behind it.

Inside the cubicle, a radio transmitter lay quietly on the table.

The next day, in London, the capital of the Holy Britannian Empire.

Inside Buckingham Palace, the atmosphere in the magnificent audience hall is solemn.

Queen Victoria, now ninety-four, sat high on her throne, the surface of which, crafted from gold and magic crystal, shimmered with visible magical light, making the figure of this 'Eternal Queen' appear both majestic and mysterious.

Her appearance and figure showed no signs of aging that one would expect at 94 years old; on the contrary, she miraculously maintained the peak condition she was in when she ascended the throne at the age of 18.

Her long, jet-black hair was styled in a bun at the back of her head, her skin was smooth and firm, and her eyes were clear and sharp, as if time had completely lost its effect on her.

Beneath the throne, the Imperial Chancellor, the Ministers of the Army, Navy, and Colonial Affairs, as well as several heads of military intelligence agencies, stood solemnly with their hands at their sides.

"Your Majesty, the Saxon army is undergoing partial mobilization, but according to our latest intelligence, twelve of their infantry divisions have crossed the border into the Kingdom of Aragon. Our expeditionary forces in Cuenca and Valencia are preparing for defense, but the situation is not optimistic due to the disparity in troop strength."

The Minister of Army Intelligence spoke first, his voice echoing in the empty hall, his tone somewhat urgent.

"Regarding the navy, both the Saxon high seas fleet and the Mediterranean fleet have departed port, Your Majesty."

The Secretary of Naval Intelligence then added:
"Their Mediterranean fleet is moving toward Gibraltar, while their high seas fleet has entered the North Sea. This is a very clear signal that the Saxons are taking a hard line."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Minister of the Navy, who was standing on the other side, stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, the Royal Navy must respond in kind! The Home Fleet and the Mediterranean Fleet must set sail immediately to demonstrate the Empire's resolve to the Saxons!"

After speaking, he glanced at the Minister of War, who also spoke with a solemn expression:
"The army also needs reinforcements. The Saxons border the Kingdom of Aragon, and their ground troops can be continuously deployed to the battlefield via the railway."

“And our expeditionary force, every soldier and every shell, must cross the ocean by sea! Before reinforcements arrive, our troops in Aragon will face a huge numerical disadvantage!”

Both military ministers spoke with a sense of urgency, for the situation in the Kingdom of Aragon had, frankly, exceeded their expectations, or rather, those of the entire Brittany leadership.

In the initial simulations, Sevilla, which had deployed its elite forces, should have been the first to fall.

They then seized control of the port southwest of Seville and the Aragonese navy within it.
Other directions, including Madrid, are more about creating a check and balance.

But no one expected that Seville, the objective of the campaign, would not be captured, while Madrid would be inexplicably taken over.

The expeditionary force's subsequent advance all the way to the Mediterranean coast, while tactically encircling the enemy, strategically trapped itself.
"We cannot stand by and watch the expeditionary force be annihilated!" the Minister of War continued. "Therefore, we must send reinforcements to the Kingdom of Aragon, and on a large scale!"

Just as the atmosphere in the hall was becoming increasingly tense, the Imperial Prime Minister and the Minister of Colonial Affairs exchanged a glance, and the former stepped forward.

"Gentlemen, before deciding whether to drag the Empire into a new war, perhaps we should first take a clear look at the current losses."

The Imperial Chancellor looked around at the crowd and then continued:
"I believe everyone here has seen the battle reports from the front. We suffered extremely heavy losses in Seville. The Northumberland Fusiliers Regiment, an elite force of the expeditionary force, had its three main battalions almost completely destroyed. We need to replenish a large number of troops from the rear to restore our fighting capacity."

"The Garter Knights' special task force was completely wiped out."

At this moment, a high-ranking instructor who had remained silent, representing the Highland Mage Group, finally spoke:

"Including His Excellency Eldridge, a high-ranking instructor of the Highland Mage Order, a total of five Highland Mages perished in Seville. The only surviving mage suffered severe mental trauma and is currently on his way back home in an emergency transfer."

Everyone present already knew about this news.

But listening to it again now still makes them feel like they're having a nightmare.

The loss of five members in a single day is unprecedented in the history of the Highland Mage Order.

Even the rampant 'magical plague' of yesteryear did not cause this level of daily losses.
"All of this illustrates one point," the Prime Minister concluded, "that our assessment of the military strength of the Saxon Empire has been seriously flawed!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "Moreover, our relations with the Gallic Republic have not yet improved. If we rashly start a full-scale war with the Saxons now, who can guarantee that the Gauls won't stab us in the back?"

The Prime Minister's words fell silent throughout the hall.

Although the Navy Minister and the Army Minister were unwilling, they could not refute it.

But as representatives of the military hardliners, they knew very well that if they could not respond strongly, the empire's prestige would be severely damaged, and those Saxon barbarians would only become more emboldened.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, are you suggesting we simply sit idly by and let the Saxons run rampant in Aragon?" the Minister of War couldn't help but question. "That would undoubtedly be a sign of weakness to the whole world!"

"That's not what I meant."

The Prime Minister shook his head, looked at the two military officials, and his tone suddenly became stern.

"I just want to remind you not to repeat the same mistakes! You military personnel seem to never learn from your errors."

He emphasized each word, speaking with deliberation:

"Wasn't the Boer War back then carried out under the strong impetus of your military?"

"And the result? The Empire paid a heavy price to barely achieve a so-called 'pyrrhic victory'!"

"The money, supplies, and soldiers' lives we've sacrificed are completely disproportionate to the benefits we've gained!"

The Prime Minister's voice echoed in the hall, each word like a heavy hammer blow to the hearts of the two military ministers.

“Tell me!” He stepped forward, staring intently at the Minister of War, “Do you wish for another Boer War, to plunge our great empire into the abyss?”

The Prime Minister's questioning was sharp and direct, causing the Army Minister's face to flush red and then pale, but he could not find any strong words to refute it.

The shadow of the Boer War still looms over the hearts of many Britannians.

That seemingly insurmountable war ultimately devolved into a quagmire of attrition, severely damaging the empire's finances and prestige.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, times have changed!"

The First Lord of the Navy, also a member of Her Majesty's Supreme War Council, attempted to help his colleague out of the predicament.

"The threat posed by the Saxons now is far greater than that of the Boers they secretly supported back then! If we back down now, we will pay a much higher price in the future!"

Just as the two sides were locked in a stalemate, the Secretary of Colonial Affairs, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward, adding new weight to the Prime Minister's position.

"Your Majesty, Your Excellency the Prime Minister." He first greeted the Queen and the Prime Minister separately, then turned to the others, his face filled with deep worry.

"While the situation in the Kingdom of Aragon is certainly worrying, we cannot ignore the problems in other parts of the Empire, especially North America."

He held a document he had been holding for a long time high and said loudly:

“In the past few months, I have received dozens of urgent telegrams from His Highness the Prince of Wales, the Governor General of the United States. The situation in the North American colonies is far more unstable than we imagined, with signs of rebels appearing in many areas.”

"Although they haven't gained much traction yet, with only small-scale riots and attacks, this trend is extremely dangerous! His Highness the Prince has repeatedly sent telegrams to London requesting reinforcements and supplies to stabilize the situation!"

The Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs' words made the already tense atmosphere even more so.

He emphasized, stressing:

"Gentlemen, we must understand one thing! The North American colonies of the Kingdom of Aragon, which have yet to produce any output, are the most dazzling 'jewel' in the crown of our Holy Britannian Empire! Their impact on the empire's economy and strategic position is far more direct and far more important!"

"If, while we are embroiled in a protracted war with the Saxons, our North American colonies are on the verge of collapse, the situation will become unimaginable! We may very well face a two-front war, or even a multi-front war!"

This dose of cold water was just right, calming down the military personnel who were initially in favor of war.

The power of an empire is not limitless.

Not to mention the long-standing conflict with the Gauls in their African colonies, which already tied down a large number of troops.

With the war escalating in the Iberian Peninsula, if problems arise in North America, the Empire's global strategic deployment will be completely disrupted.

"That's utter nonsense!"

The Minister of War continued to argue his case.

"Those rebels in North America are nothing but a rabble; His Highness's forces are more than enough to deal with them! We cannot abandon our interests in the Iberian Peninsula because of some uncertain risks!"

"mob?"

The Secretary of Colonial Affairs gave a cold laugh, his tone becoming increasingly impolite:

"Weren't those guys who fought the so-called 'war of independence' in North America just a 'rabble' in the eyes of the military back then? And what happened? If Benedict Arnold hadn't kidnapped Washington and handed him over to us, who knows what the North American colonies would be like now!"

The Minister of the Army was speechless.

Just as the cabinet was about to completely break ties with the Queen, the Prime Minister stepped in again to try to quell the dispute.

"Okay, just say a few words."

He waved his hand, signaling the Secretary of Colonial Affairs to remain calm, and then continued:

“Your concerns are all valid, but now is not the time for blame. What we need is a plan that can ensure the Empire’s safety through the crisis.”

The argument between the two sides has temporarily stopped, but neither side can convince the other.

The military insisted on a strong response to preserve the Empire's face and interests in Aragon.

The other faction, led by the Prime Minister, believed that caution was necessary to avoid getting bogged down in war, while prioritizing the stabilization of the more important North American colonies.

The debate lasted for a long time, with various proposals being put forward and then rejected.

The entire audience hall was filled with tension and anxiety.

In the end, everyone's gaze fell upon the 'Eternal Queen' who remained silent on the throne.

Ultimately, no matter how heated their arguments were, the final decision-making power always rested in the hands of the queen who had ruled the empire for nearly a century.

Queen Victoria's face showed no emotion; her deep eyes swept over everyone present, as if she could see through their thoughts.

You could hear a pin drop in the hall.

Everyone held their breath, awaiting the Queen's final verdict.

Finally, the Queen spoke slowly. Her voice was not loud, but it carried an innate majesty that clearly reached everyone's ears.

"What you all say makes sense, but..."

The Queen's tone shifted, becoming sharper:

"I also agree with the military's view that our Holy Britannian Empire must not show the slightest weakness in dealing with the Saxon Empire."

"My troublesome grandson wants to see us back down and hesitate."

“As his grandmother, I know better than any of you that the more we back down, the more he will take advantage of us.”

Queen Victoria rose slowly from her throne, walked to the steps, and looked down at the huge world map on the floor of the audience hall.

"Therefore, the gesture must be made."

She looked up at the crowd, her gaze sharp, and issued a series of unquestionable commands.

"I agree to the troop reinforcement plan! The Army Ministry shall immediately formulate a plan to draw troops from the mainland and North Africa and prepare for sea transport to Aragon immediately!"

"Admiralty, order the main forces of the Home Fleet and the Mediterranean Fleet to depart immediately! I don't care if you're on combat patrols or conducting military exercises, I want the Saxon fleet to see the Royal Navy flag at all times!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" the two military ministers replied in unison, their voices filled with excitement and exhilaration.

Victoria I's decision was almost 'in sync' with the thoughts of her grandson, Emperor Albert II of Saxony.

She also believes that, regardless of whether a full-scale war eventually breaks out, at least in terms of posture, Brittany must not give the other side the impression that it is capable of making any concessions.

After issuing the military orders, the Eternal Queen turned her gaze to the Foreign Minister.

"Sir Edward Grey".

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Foreign Minister, who had been standing in the corner as if he were detached from worldly affairs, stepped forward.

The Queen's tone softened somewhat at this point.

"While the fleet is setting sail, keep a close eye on maintaining contact with the Saxon side and be prepared for negotiations. War is a continuation of politics, but not the only means! I need you all to fight for the greatest interests of the Empire, whether on the battlefield or at the negotiating table."

This statement is almost identical to what Albert II, far away in Dresden, said to his diplomatic secretary.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the Foreign Minister replied respectfully.

(End of this chapter)