1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 110: The Musical Gathering Releases Military Power?

The night in Athens is as gentle as water.

A few days later, exquisitely crafted, gold-embossed invitations were sent from the royal palace to the prestigious residences of the Athenian military.

The banquet was ostensibly a small, private music appreciation event for Princess Sofia.

Those who received the invitations were all powerful generals from key departments of the General Staff and the Army. The list was carefully selected, and each name represented a significant force.

However, one name was cleverly omitted from this list.

Theozolos Kolokotronis.

The Deputy Chief of Staff of the Army, the undisputed leader of the old-school officers, did not receive an invitation.

The reason given by the palace was mild and appropriate: Her Highness the Princess's concert did not wish to disturb the old general's rare quiet time after get off work.

But in Athens, a city where information travels faster than a horse-drawn carriage, this exclusion itself is a strong signal.

Meanwhile, another invitation was respectfully delivered to General Panagiotis's residence. Upon seeing the invitation, which represented royal favor, the heavily indebted logistics manager's hand, holding a cigar, trembled slightly, unnoticed.

He knew this was not a simple concert.

This was a trap set by the crown prince, but also his lifeline.

Royal Palace Banquet Hall.

The light from the crystal chandelier illuminated the elegantly dressed women. The air was filled with the mingled scents of French perfume and expensive cigars. Princess Sofia, in a flowing, moon-white gown, conversed gracefully with the ladies, adding a touch of gentle grace to the gathering.

Constantine moved among the guests, not in military uniform, but in a well-tailored black tuxedo, making him look more like an elegant nobleman than a crown prince wielding power.

He never uttered a word about military reform.

He talked about art in Paris, finance in London, and the rapidly developing industry of the German Empire. His topics always revolved around one core theme—wealth and the future.

After several rounds of drinks, Constantine stood in the center of the banquet hall and raised his glass.

The noisy venue quieted down, and everyone's eyes were focused on him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight." His voice carried clearly throughout the hall. "Tonight, we will not talk about the military, nor about politics. We will only talk about a dream."

"A dream belonging to Greece."

He surveyed the generals present and continued, "You are all the cornerstones of Greece; your achievements will be forever etched in history. But times are changing, and the nation needs new engines. I propose the establishment of a 'National Industrial and Defense Development Fund.'"

fund?

The generals looked at each other, the term somewhat unfamiliar to them.

"This fund will attract the wealth of Greek businessmen worldwide to invest in our country's railways, mines, factories, and most importantly—the defense industry. We cannot forever rely on buying weapons from other countries; Greece must have its own Krupp and its own Mauser!"

A low murmur of admiration rose from the crowd.

Constantine's gaze fell, almost imperceptibly, on General Panagiotis, who was not far away.

"Of course, such a grand plan cannot be decided by a young man like me. It needs an oversight committee. It needs a group of truly experienced patriots who have made outstanding contributions to the country and deeply love this nation to guide every investment of the fund in the right direction."

He paused for a moment, each word sounding as if it had been precisely calculated.

"We need your wisdom."

After saying this, he raised his glass and offered a toast in the direction of General Panagiotis.

"General, you are a meritorious general who has devoted half your life to the country and worked hard for it. You should be in a more important position to contribute to the country's long-term future, instead of continuing to work on the dusty training ground under the sun and wind."

His voice was full of sincerity.

"Your wisdom and prestige are Greece's most precious assets."

"However, my kingdom's Special Investigation Bureau has recently received quite a few reports of corruption among military generals. I hope I won't show up at your gates with my men," Constantine suddenly said, giving a meaningful glance to the "distinguished guests" present and slowly swirling the wine glass in his hand.

The senior generals present all changed their expressions slightly, as if they sensed a hint of danger. But when they saw the figures of guards moving back and forth outside the curtains, barely visible, they dared not react much and could only put on smiling faces in front of the crown prince.

General Panaggiotis, the unsung "debtor" in the military, stood frozen, holding a wine glass.

The glass of French wine, as red as blood, swirled violently in his hand, and a few drops splashed onto his pristine white gloves, leaving glaring red marks.

He was shocked by the Crown Prince's audacity in almost explicitly stating that he would investigate the military, and he also sensed a glimmer of opportunity.

That's not the smell of wine.

It was the scent of money, so strong it made him dizzy.

A position that allows one to retain the dignity of a "general," receive a generous "advisory fee" far exceeding military pay, and completely rid oneself of the enormous debt that haunts him every night...

This is hardly a job title.

This is the stairway to heaven!

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, as if it were not wine, but a spring of sweet water that could relieve his immediate crisis.

The dinner ended at midnight.

The guests took their leave one by one, and General Panagiotis mingled in the crowd, preparing to depart.

Constantine's personal attendant, a quick-witted young man, hurried to catch up with him.

"General, please wait."

"What is it?" Panagiotis asked, feigning composure.

The attendant bowed and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "General, His Highness asked me to convey to you that he personally greatly admires your foresight and your valuable experience in logistics."

Panagiotis's heart skipped a beat.

The attendant continued, "His Highness privately mentioned to Professor Andreas that if the 'National Defense Advisory Committee' were to be established, the chairmanship would undoubtedly belong to someone as respected as you. He believes that only you can command respect."

President!

These two words struck Panaggiotis's heart like two heavy hammers.

He could almost see the demand letter from the French bank turn to ashes before his very eyes.

"Your Highness...you flatter me." His voice was dry.

The attendant smiled slightly, said nothing more, bowed, and turned to leave.

Panagiotis stood there, a cool evening breeze blowing, yet he felt a surge of heat on his back. He looked in the direction the attendant had gone, then glanced back at the brightly lit palace.

He knew he was standing at a crossroads.

On one side was the sinking, dilapidated ship, Kolocotronis; on the other side was a gold-plated ticket handed to them by the crown prince.

The choice is not difficult.

The next day, at the General Staff Headquarters.

At a routine internal meeting, General Kolocotronis, as usual, launched a scathing critique of Metaxas's "outlandish" reform proposal.

"Disband the cavalry? That's like cutting off your own arm! I'll say it again, as long as I, Kolokotronis, am in this position, this absurd proposal will not be passed!"

He habitually looked at his top ally, Panagiotis, hoping for agreement.

However, General Panagiotis acted contrary to his usual behavior.

He lowered his head, studying the teacup in front of him as if it contained a battle map of the Ottoman Empire.

He remained silent.

Kolocotronis frowned, raising his voice: "Panagiotis, you speak on the logistics too! Tell this young captain how disastrous it would be for our supply lines to support an entire artillery brigade!"

All eyes in the conference room were on Panagiotis.

He finally raised his head, but dared not meet the gaze of Kolokotronis. His eyes darted away, looking instead at the paintings on the wall.

"Ahem... this... this problem is very complicated, it needs... it needs to be considered carefully."

He gave a vague reply and then lowered his head again.

The conference room was deathly silent.

Kolokotronis froze. He looked at his staunchest ally, at the face etched with guilt, and for the first time, a sense of foreboding rose within him.

He felt as if a crack had been pried open from within his seemingly impregnable defenses.

The seeds of division have already taken root and sprouted after last night's lavish feast.

What he didn't know was that this was just the beginning.