People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

“Goddoting, you are the Speaker of the Victoria Council, don’t you feel this way?”

“You’ve tried your best to create a balance of power, but in the end, Victoria’s base has not only not grown, but has actually shrunk.”

“Even if you tell me that Victoria is still great, the truth is, I can hardly see our sun anymore.”

She paused, looked at the somewhat silent Godottin, took a deep breath, softened her tone, and asked the duke, known for his "benevolence and freedom," a figure with a weak presence in the upper echelons of Victoria but a renowned reputation among the lower classes:

“Even from a duke’s perspective, Godottin, are you just going to stand by and watch the Duke of Castle continue to maintain this balance of power? Aren’t you afraid that one day she will balance everything except us, and then she will balance us down to you and me? Until she is the only one left to balance the entire Victoria?”

Duke Godottin clicked his tongue, sighed, and reminded him:

“Duke Windermere, you flatter me. Such words are not appropriate for us colleagues to say.”

“Right now I really wish I could punch harder.” Duke Windermere gritted his teeth, his tail standing on end.

Gao Duoting quickly waved his hand, looking aggrieved:

"Sigh, to be honest, who wouldn't have thought of these zeros when you mentioned them? But the fact that these words came out of your mouth is enough to surprise and make me reflect."

For some reason, the Duke of Windermere felt that Godottin was speaking in a veiled way, as if he were mocking her.

Unfortunately, no evidence could be found.

"The fact that you can even think of something like this shows that what Kester has done recently has indeed gone a bit too far."

"Then you're willing to support me?" Duke Windermere asked.

Gao Duoting chuckled awkwardly:

"Where would you need the support of someone as insignificant as me?"

"So you're just unwilling? What a coward."

Duke Windermere cursed angrily, but Duke Godotin pretended not to hear and only reminded him:

“Duke Windermere, I’m telling you, what good will it do you to get support from me?”

“The Dukes’ Council isn’t just about us. Even if I’m on your side, Normandy and Farhan will be on Caesar’s side. What you need isn’t my support; you need the help of truly important people.”

Godottin rubbed his hands together, hesitated for a moment, then beckoned to Duke Windermere, leaned closer, and made his point even clearer:

“Since you’re thinking about the whole of Victoria, all you need to do is make others think you represent Victoria. It’s not that difficult.”

"Old Wellington has fallen. This is troublesome, but also an opportunity. The morale of the Allied forces is greatly reduced, and naturally someone needs to step forward and boost morale. A speech, a statement, a broadcast—not for us dukes, but for the ordinary Victorians."

"We're not actually going to the battlefield to fight, so convincing those people is the real goal."

"I really did it."

Windermere emphasized this point.

Gao Duoting smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

However, Godottin's words did make some sense. The Duke of Custer didn't object to being commander-in-chief at the meeting because Victoria currently had no more capable generals than herself, and no one else could convince her. But she also disagreed with being commander-in-chief, maintaining a stalemate, precisely because she lacked Wellington's achievements, or rather, his prestige.

Even the youngest Victorians, once they learn about the glorious modern history of Victoria, will inevitably encounter the Duke of Wellington Wood.

If the steam knights were heroes of Victoria, then the Duke of Wellington, who led the steam knights and high-speed warships—two of Victoria's weapons of war—to conquer Lingons, the capital of Gaul, was a legend of the entire Victorian era!

When he takes over the army, no soldier will be dissatisfied, because everyone believes in him and believes that the death knell of the empire can bring victory to Victoria.

Don't ask why, because the textbooks they learn are all based on other people's deeds. How could you possibly be as wise as the ancestors?

Compared to Wellington, he, the Duke of Windermere, was somewhat lacking.

The Windermere family had indeed guarded the borders for generations, maintaining a long-standing peace between Victoria and Letania. But those skilled in war without illustrious achievements also lack great renown. Although the title "Imperial Twin Blades" was used to refer to her and the Duke of Wellington, most people believed that even ranking her alongside Wellington was an overstatement.

Lacking sufficient prestige, she cannot command this army. Because this army is no longer the Victorian Empire's National Defense Force, but rather the Dukes' Alliance Army.

Putting everything else aside, would the Duke of Custer's troops obey her orders? Wouldn't they worry that she would be too swayed by personal feelings and send them up to fill in the gaps first?

This is the crux of the problem, and this is why Kester is so emboldened and can continue to drag things out with himself.

Windermere frowned thoughtfully.

Having grasped this point, Duke Windermere could also understand the solution proposed by Duke Godotin to break the deadlock.

Ultimately, the goal is to find a way to enhance her prestige. Not necessarily to reach Wellington's level, but at least to help her shed some of the stereotypes surrounding her and gain recognition as a commander from the other dukes' allied forces.

The Duke of Wellington's serious injury is both a problem and an opportunity.

The Victorian army desperately needed a morale boost, and a speech, a broadcast, or a statement would be the perfect remedy.

That makes sense. But she can't write these things herself, so where is she supposed to find them?

""

Duke Windermere's eyes lit up, but then, as if he had thought of something, he immediately frowned and looked at Godottin.

"Duke Windermere has figured it out?" Godottin asked, pulling out a packet of dried fruit from somewhere and chewing it as he spoke.

Windermere nodded, but his gaze held a hint of doubt:

"You thought of this a long time ago, so why didn't you do it?"

Duke Lingardottin laughed heartily, his smile somewhat complicated:

"Duke Windermere is joking. When have I ever argued about this?"

“I’m not lying. This generation’s Duke Godottin doesn’t think much. If Victoria can be more stable and his rule more peaceful, he would rather stay in the manor every day, hold his banquets from morning to night, and be an idle rich man. That wouldn’t be bad either.”

"Whether it's worrying about the country and its people or fighting for power and profit, it's all too far removed from that. Fighting and killing, getting bloodied and battered, is nothing compared to the comfort of setting up an umbrella in the courtyard in the afternoon, opening a deck chair, listening to the roars of beasts in the distance, the cries of winged animals flapping their wings, eating dried fruit while enjoying the sunshine of the manor, and sipping a glass of aged red wine."

"In the end, we are all living the life we ​​enjoy today because of the blessings of our ancestors. In terms of real talent, we are not necessarily much better than the city's councilors, teachers, workers, and ordinary people. Since that's the case, why not worry less, give them back their power, and then enjoy this carefree life?"

As he spoke, Duke Godottin handed a piece of dried fruit to Duke Windermere.

"Have a piece, it's really homegrown, it's very sweet."

Windermere looked at Godottin, reached out, took the candied fruit, but didn't eat it.

Gao Duoting didn't mind, smiled slightly, and finally reminded her:

"However, you need to hurry. What my slow-witted brain can think of, the Duke of Caster has probably already thought of long ago. If she gets there first..."

“There’s no need to worry about that.” Duke Windermere waved his hand, a confident smile on his face. “She can’t outrun me.”

"So confident?" Gao Duoting asked with a half-smile.

Duke Windermere crossed his arms and raised his head: "My daughter is very intelligent! Just as smart as me!"

Duke Godottin pursed his lips, his smile somewhat forced.

To be honest, the way you're praising me is really baffling.

Shelag, Tukarim, Shelag Government Office Building, Ernst's Office.

"Boost morale? Indeed, the Duke's coalition certainly needs a morale boost right now."

Ernst nodded, agreeing with Daphne's suggestion.

The worst-case scenario for Lentinium, and the one Ernst least wants to see, is a resounding victory for Sarkaz.

Although the possibility is extremely slim, after the Duke of Wellington's test of the law, Ernst had to adjust his views.

The Sarkaz are probably not that simple; they are much more difficult to deal with than we imagine.

Direct intervention is out of the question. Kjerag is a small, sparsely populated country; it lacks the power to send its people to wars unrelated to its own to earn a living through blood and sweat. Ernst had seen such suffering in books, and he didn't want it to be repeated under his rule. Kjerag also had no need for it.

But indirect assistance, such as the morale-boosting methods that Definite mentioned, like a speech, is something he can certainly offer.

Moreover, it could be said that there was a classic speech that was perfectly suited for this occasion.

Ernst returned to his desk, bent down, dragged out the safe, opened it, and took out a stack of papers.

This is his greatest treasure: those thoughts and classics that do not belong to this world.

The safe contained his manuscript of "The Chronicles of Erzley" and some speeches that he slowly recalled and reconstructed.

He selected the one he needed.

On the white paper was neat Victorian script, honed through diligent study and practice. Six simple words summarized and outlined the title and content of the speech.

《！（We Will Fight to the End!）》 Part 4

Chapter 551 I Want a Hug Too

At the end of the first month of 1095, Sarkaz extremists and the Victorian Empire's allied forces clashed near Silverstone Gorge, a suburb of Londinium, in the first direct confrontation since the start of Operation Londinium.

I believe that many of my colleagues, the leaders of various countries following this military conflict, their media outlets, and anyone with feelings toward Victoria, whether benevolent or malevolent, have already taken note of this news.

Yes, the Sarkaz employed tactics not found in any military strategy curriculum. The leader of the Sarkaz Blood Demon branch unleashed astonishing sorcery across the entire plains east of Silverstone Gorge. Thousands of Sarkaz sorcery altars, too numerous to be uprooted, resonated simultaneously, staining the land of Victoria a hideous crimson.

This situation was unexpected by none of the military commanders of the Victorian Empire's allied forces. The General Staff responded immediately based on the actual circumstances, giving this new form of witchcraft a description befitting its form: a blood tide.

Faced with this unprecedented emergency, our soldiers did not flinch. After a long and brutal series of battles, the Allied forces are now fighting on three fronts: the Silverstone Blood Demon front, the Londinium Theresis front, and the distant Carrion front. Each front is defended by two or three divisions, relying on our prized high-speed warships to confront an enemy force that employs unpredictable sorcery and disregards all the limitations of warfare.

[In addition, they fought hard on familiar lands, all Victorian territory, in which our forces suffered over three thousand casualties—killed, wounded, and missing. I wish to take this opportunity to express Parliament's deepest condolences to those who have lost loved ones or are still grieving for their families.]

However, we must also recognize that it is precisely because of these soldiers who steadfastly held their posts, demonstrating the outstanding qualities of Victorian soldiers, that our defenses remained impregnable. The Blood Demon attempted to suffocate Victoria with a monstrous tide of blood, but we built a dam with the firepower of our high-speed warships and our indomitable will. Under the command of the illustrious Duke of Wellington, the Commander-in-Chief of the Victorian Empire's Allied Forces, we achieved victory in this battle, that battle, and on every battlefield! This is what I must tell you all—Victory has not failed; Victoria is marching from victory to victory!

Some might say

Daphne took a deep breath, put down her speech, and looked at Ernst, her eyes filled with undisguised shock.

"Ernst, you... you were prepared all along?"

Ernst shook his head.

What do you mean by "prepared long ago"? Do you think I could predict the future and foresee that Victoria would fight the Sarkaz and end up like this?

To be honest, if someone had come to Ernst a few days ago and told him that the Victorian Empire's allied forces would be stuck in a stalemate with the Sarkaz, or even unable to move on the main battlefield, Ernst would have thought that person was being a bit delusional.

But if he were to come and tell him that not only would the Victorian army gain little advantage on the front lines, but their rear would also be thoroughly harassed by the Sarkaz, and that the Duke of Wellington himself, the commander-in-chief of the Duke's allied forces, would be assassinated and his fate unknown, then Ernst wouldn't think this man was delusional.

He would have Kal'tsit take this person away before she left.

That's insane.

After all, from any perspective of modern warfare, the Sarkaz are at a disadvantage.

They can't compete in numbers, they can't match the reserves, their technological levels are worlds apart, and the gap in weaponry is so large that even Shoigu would have to shake his head in defeat. Moreover, Victoria has the biggest advantage – their special military operation, regardless of its ultimate goal, at least has the banner of recapturing Lentinium, the capital of Victoria. What about you, Sarkaz?

Seriously speaking, even countries like Letania and Colombia, if they wanted to annoy Victoria, would be unlikely to provide any assistance to a country like Sarkaz.

After all, if this kind of thing is exposed, even the people of this country will have objections.

Even with Victoria's dragons seemingly overwhelming them and no indication of defeat, the Sarkaz, through sheer individual combat prowess and unconventional tactics, achieved a massive victory. In an era where technological advancements are gradually eradicating bloodline differences and group combat through tools is diminishing racial disparities, this victory represents "the last glimmer of Sarkaz glory!"

Good news! The united Sarkaz have finally revealed their terror to this land in this era.

The bad news is that they were very successful. Many countries that didn't take the situation in Lentinium seriously before will now take the Sarkaz seriously after this battle.

In any case, for Ernst, this is both a crisis and an opportunity.

Thanks to Theresis's attack, the Sarkaz problem was finally brought to the forefront and became one of the Terra issues that countries took seriously.

At least Ernst doesn't have to worry that some countries will disregard the proposal for Sarkaz to become a nation.

However, this also means that Ernst will need to put in significantly more effort to make this bill a success.

Ernst sighed softly and patted Defiance on the head: 6

“I didn’t prepare this in advance. It was originally intended for use in ‘Eris’. I made a slight modification. The situation was urgent, so I hope Duke Windermere won’t mind.”

"Ers? That novel?"

Defien blinked curiously, a hint of regret in her eyes.

"It would be such a waste to use such a speech in a novel, wouldn't it?"

Ernst paused slightly, then shook his head with a somewhat complicated expression:

"It's not a pity, that's what they said anyway."

Daphne shrugged helplessly.

She had heard that some writers have this idea: that the characters in their books are alive, and that what they say is their own thought, unrelated to the author, who is merely a recorder of their lives.

Defien didn't quite understand this argument. After all, how could anyone possibly cramm those words and thoughts into your head?

Writers have many purposes: to depict a story, to make money, etc. Readers also have many purposes: to gain knowledge, to find enjoyment. Both sides are essentially getting what they need. If "the characters all have their own lives," then what is that? A middleman making a profit?

But if there really were such a middleman, that would be wonderful. After all, if those lifelike characters could truly live in a completely different world, it would indeed be a miraculous and beautiful thing. The problem is, there isn't one. Isn't the one who takes the money and enjoys the praise still the creator? When there's profit, it's because the creator did a good job; when problems arise and flaws are discovered, it's because of the insider's own ideas. They want to bear the profits while also avoiding the risks—what kind of Terra non-stick pan is this?

Ernst, of course, couldn't tell her that a middleman existed.

To some extent, Daphne's idea wasn't wrong, it was just very "pragmatic" and lacked the aesthetic sense of a book lover, which suited her status as the heir to the duke.