novelSusiti Chapter 264 The Price of Victory
Chapter 264 The Price of Victory
Near the grove of trees in Thessaly, the smell of gunpowder and blood still lingers in the air.
Constantine gripped the jewel-encrusted commander's sword. The metal of the hilt still held warmth, the warmth of the defeated marshal's palm.
He did not glance again at Governor Edheim, who was being led away by the guards.
The once invincible Ottoman marshal now stands hunched over, his faded marshal's uniform hanging loosely on his body, his back view filled with the dejection of someone at the end of their rope.
Constantine handed his sword to Alexandros Dimitriopoulos, who was standing beside him.
"Keep it safe."
"Yes, Your Highness." Alexandros accepted the incredibly heavy trophy with steady movements.
Several Greek soldiers carried a huge Ottoman military flag and walked up to Constantine.
The crescent flag was covered in dust and blood, and the flagpole was broken, but the deep red color was still glaring.
The soldiers threw it heavily to the ground.
The contents of the encrypted telegram were transmitted, breaking the midday tranquility of Athens.
First the royal palace, then the parliament building next to Syntagma Square, and finally, every street corner of the Athenian city-state.
Edhem Pasha has been captured alive!
The main Ottoman army at the Thessalian front collapsed completely!
The moment the news was officially confirmed, Athens erupted into a frenzy of excitement.
The church bells rang wildly, no longer following any clockwork, but simply expressing their ecstasy to the sky.
People poured out of their homes, crowded shops, and smoky cafes, forming torrents of blue and white that rushed into the streets.
The vendors abandoned their stalls, the coachmen jumped off their carriages, and they embraced, cheered, and tossed their hats into the air.
"We've won!"
"We've won!"
"Constantine! Constantine!"
The crown prince's name was chanted by thousands of people, echoing for a long time over the Acropolis.
In the study of the royal palace, King George I held the telegram that would change everything.
His fingers trembled, and the thin telegram paper rustled in his hands.
Half of it was pride in his son's glorious victory, and the other half was a deep-seated fear of the impending wrath of the monarchs who occupied the capitals of various European countries.
He knew that Greece had stirred up a hornet's nest.
10 Downing Street, London.
The atmosphere in the Prime Minister's office was somber and oppressive.
The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, but it couldn't dispel the chill in the room.
The battle report, which had just been copied by the telegraph operator, was slammed onto the oak desk by the Prime Minister.
"Bang!"
"It's collapsing!" The Prime Minister's voice was laced with suppressed rage. "The strategic balance of the British Empire in the eastern Mediterranean is crumbling at a speed we cannot even imagine!"
The "sick man of Europe," which they had carefully maintained to buffer Russia's southward advance and protect the flanks of Indian shipping routes, was dying.
They died too quickly.
A secretary hurried in and handed over another document.
"Your Excellency Prime Minister, an urgent secret telegram from the Ambassador to Constantinople."
The Prime Minister grabbed it and quickly opened it.
The contents of the telegram made his heart sink.
"The Ottoman government was in complete chaos, and the Sultan's authority was challenged like never before. A secret military organization called the 'Young Turks' was spreading rhetoric within the army, blaming the defeat on the Sultan's corruption and the incompetence of the old nobility."
The Prime Minister held the coded telegram in his hand and looked at the huge world map on the wall.
An out-of-control Balkan is about to emerge.
Berlin, Sanssouci Palace.
Kaiser Wilhelm II, holding the same battle report, burst into loud laughter.
"Hahaha! Well done! My good brother-in-law!"
He was furious at the incompetence of the Ottoman army and the German advisors, those bunch of Turkish idiots who, despite having the most advanced German weapons, achieved medieval results.
But more than anything, it was admiration for Constantine.
The "German" efficiency and terrifying combat power displayed by the Greek army in this war were simply the perfect defeat of Krupp artillery and German military thought!
He could imagine that arms orders from all over the world would be flying to Germany like snowflakes.
"Someone come here!" he shouted.
The Chief of the General Staff quickly entered the study.
"His Majesty."
"Send a telegram to Constantine, telling the Sultan that the German Empire regrets his defeat, but is still willing to maintain the friendship between the two countries."
"At the same time, send a telegram to Athens to congratulate my brother-in-law on his glorious victory. However, warn him that excessive victory will bring disaster."
Wilhelm II paced back and forth in the room, tapping his fingers on the sword at his waist.
"Furthermore, let our intelligence agencies make contact with the 'new forces' in Constantinople. The Ottoman Empire needs a more powerful master, a stronger and more pro-German Turkey, to be in the Empire's best interest."
The Chief of the General Staff lowered his head to take notes, without raising any objections.
"Pressing pressure on one hand and winning over on the other. Hedging your bets, that's what an emperor should do." Wilhelm II was pleased with his plan.
The Winter Palace in St. Petersburg.
Panic gripped the court of Tsar Nicholas II.
Greece's victory came too quickly and too decisively.
This completely disrupted Russia's entire strategy in the Balkans.
What Russia wants is a weakened Türkiye, one that can be easily subjugated, a strait gatekeeper that can only survive under Russia's "protection".
Instead of becoming a new Balkan hegemon replaced by a rising Greece that flirts with Britain and has kinship ties with Germany!
In the Foreign Minister's office, the roaring was so loud it almost lifted the roof off.
"Useless! Idiot!"
He pointed to the report sent back by Captain Vasily Orlov, the military attaché stationed in Athens, and was furious.
"He made us believe that Constantine was just a short-sighted gambler! He made us believe that the Greek attack was just a bluff! And what happened?!"
The Foreign Minister crumpled the report into a ball and slammed it to the ground.
"We've been fooled by that Greek lad! We've become the laughingstock of all Europe! Russia's strategy in the Balkans has fallen into complete disarray!"
The battlefield of Thessaly.
The cheers of victory still echoed in the distance, but Constantine had already calmed down.
He was not blinded by this unprecedented victory.
He rode on horseback and issued a series of strict yet clear commands.
"Pass down the order: all troops must treat all prisoners of war well. In particular, the safety and dignity of the Ottoman high-ranking officers must be guaranteed."
"Place Edhem Pasha in solitary confinement, provide him with treatment befitting his marshal status, and assign him double the number of guards."
He turned to Metaxas, who had just arrived to report.
"Ioannis, abandon the pursuit of the fleeing troops. Your task is to immediately regroup the forces, consolidate the defensive line, and secure all occupied territories. Keep our bayonets pinned to the current line of control."
Metaxus stood at attention and saluted: "Yes, Your Highness!"
Constantine raised his head and looked up at the western sky.
He knew that the real enemy was not these demoralized prisoners in front of him.
Rather, it was the politicians and monarchs in the capitals of London, Paris, and St. Petersburg who were enraged by this glorious victory.
The war is over.
Another storm is about to make landfall.