novelSusiti Chapter 3: The "Oracle" from the Future
Chapter 3: The "Oracle" from the Future
After Constantine finished speaking, a long, suffocating silence fell over the meeting room.
Everyone was stunned by his crazy, audacious, yet seemingly logically consistent "political blackmail" plan.
King George I tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his deep gaze sweeping over his son, who was both familiar and unfamiliar to him, as he fell into deep thought.
"Absurd! Utterly absurd!"
Prime Minister Deriplis was the first to jump out and strongly object, his voice sharp and angry.
"This is gambling with the reputation and dignity of the entire nation!"
"Your Highness, you have no diplomatic or political experience whatsoever. This outlandish plan will only make Greece a laughingstock throughout Europe!"
Constantine slowly turned around, his cold gaze fixed on the obese prime minister.
"Your Excellency the Prime Minister."
"Is your so-called 'experience' simply about blindly leading this country back to the abyss of 1897, a disastrous defeat?"
"1897?"
Deriplis was stunned, and the other ministers looked at each other, completely bewildered as to what Constantine was saying.
It's only 1885 now, 1897 hasn't even arrived yet.
But for some reason, when Constantine uttered the year "1897," Deriples' heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down his spine to the top of his head.
It was as if that year was some kind of predetermined curse for him.
Constantine knew that data and logic alone wouldn't be enough to convince these stubborn old fogies.
He needs to demonstrate something... a "miracle".
Therefore, he decided to release his first and most crucial short-term prophecy about his identity as a time traveler.
"In order to gain your trust, I can make a prophecy."
Constantine's voice became calm again.
"Within three days, at the latest by the evening of the day after tomorrow, Sir Charles Harding, the British Ambassador to Athens, will publicly deliver a strongly worded formal warning to our Foreign Office, demanding that we exercise maximum restraint."
"but!"
He abruptly changed the subject, drawing everyone's attention.
"On the same day he submits his public warning, he will secretly request a meeting with you, Father."
"In private meetings, he would imply that as long as Greece did not fire the first shot and destabilize the Mediterranean, the British Empire would be very happy to step in and mediate."
"Furthermore, he would proactively suggest that Britain could 'consider' and 'support' some of our interests on the Crete issue as compensation for our restraint."
The moment this prediction was made, the entire audience erupted in uproar!
Even the usually silent George I showed an expression of disbelief.
This is absurd!
That's incredibly detailed!
Public warnings, private promises?
When did the British become so kind?
Why would they willingly offer the territory of their ally, the Ottoman Empire (Crete was nominally still under Ottoman control), to bribe Greece?
This is completely inconsistent with the British Empire's diplomatic logic of "balance of power on the continent" and "stirring up trouble"!
"That's impossible!" Deriples declared firmly. "Your Highness, you're just imagining things!"
George I looked intently at his son, Constantine, whose gaze was unwavering and filled with absolute confidence.
Ultimately, the king made a decision that would change the fate of Greece.
"it is good."
King George I spoke slowly, his voice tinged with weariness, but more so with determination.
"Do as Constantine says."
"From this moment forward, all information is blocked, and all military meetings are cancelled. The results of all meetings are to be kept secret, and anyone who leaks information will be prosecuted for damaging state secrets."
"We'll wait and see."
After the meeting, all the ministers left with a belly full of doubts and shock.
Constantine called out to the young officer whose eyes were shining in the corner.
"Metakass Lieutenant."
Ioannis Metaxas froze, then immediately turned around and gave a perfectly respectful military salute.
"Your Highness!"
Constantine didn't waste any words and went straight to the point.
"I have read the report you submitted earlier, 'Proposal on the Modernization and Reform of Artillery Positions'."
Metaxas's eyes lit up instantly, filled with anticipation.
"On page seventeen, there is a small but fatal error in the ballistic calculation formula for ultra-long-range precision firing of a 75mm field gun at the latitude of Athens."
The joy on Metaxas's face froze instantly.
Constantine continued calmly:
"You overlooked the minute effect of the Coriolis force on the projectile during long-distance flight."
"According to your formula, at the maximum range of eight kilometers, the shell's impact point will deviate from the target by a full fifty meters to the west."
"This margin of error is enough to make you miss an entire Turkish artillery battery."
"The correct correction parameter should be 0.034."
The color drained from Metaxas's face in an instant, turning her ashen white!
He was struck dumb, frozen in place as if by lightning!
This calculation is incorrect...
He discovered this error after staying up for three consecutive nights and repeatedly checking the calculations!
Besides himself, there is only one other person in the whole world who might know!
That was Professor Hermann von Eckert, the devilish instructor who taught him advanced ballistics at the Berlin Military Academy!
His Highness the Crown Prince… how could he possibly know?!
And they even specified such precise correction parameters!
At that moment, Metaxas's gaze towards Constantine shifted from initial admiration and curiosity to an almost fanatical adoration!
This is beyond the comprehension of ordinary people!
This is a miracle! This is a divine revelation!
Constantine nodded in satisfaction at his shocked expression.
He stepped forward and gently patted Metaxas's stiff shoulder.
"Greece's future needs military professionals like you who truly understand military affairs."
"Instead of those loud-mouthed idiots in the conference room who only know how to clamor for war."
"Do a good job."
Two days later.
late at night.
King George I's bedroom was brightly lit.
He summoned Constantine in a secret manner, in the most urgent way possible.
The king held a top-secret telegram he had just received in his hand, and his hand, which had weathered countless storms, was now trembling slightly.
He looked at his son, his eyes shifting from suspicion and scrutiny to an indescribable shock and...fear.
It was as if he was facing not his own son, but a monster in human skin.
"Connie..."
George I spoke in a dry voice, using Constantine's nickname.
"Just now, Sir Charles Harding, the British Ambassador, paid me a secret visit."
The king swallowed hard.
"What he said..."
"Just like what you predicted in the meeting room two days ago..."
"Exactly the same!"
"He first threatened that if he did not exercise restraint, there would be serious consequences."
"Then, he offered to mediate if we didn't make the first move, and even said he would 'consider' our interests on Crete..."
George I stared intently at Constantine, as if trying to see right through him.
"Tell me, Connie... who are you?"
Despite his father's shock, Constantine remained calm, as if it were all to be.
He walked to the window, gazed at the ancient silhouette of the Acropolis outside, and answered calmly:
"Father, this is just the beginning."
In his mind, an extremely grand blueprint was slowly unfolding.
The first step is to leverage the great powers to avoid war and extort benefits.
The second step was to seize military power, implement reforms, and accumulate national strength.
The rise of Greece officially began from this moment!
Constantine turned around, meeting the king's shocked gaze, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Now, we should talk to the British about the price."