Empress, Call Me by My Title at Work!-Chapter 41

Chapter 41: The Armistice Agreement
October 20th, 1064.
Pope Pius X of the Grand See invited the leaders of all nations on the Europa continent to convene in Vienna, within the Holy Federation of Austria.
Among them were the Prime Minister of the Scandinavian Empire, the Emperor and Prime Minister of the Empire of Castilia, the King and Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Saint Vite, the Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Helvia, the King and Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Fontaine, as well as—
Two major powers who had not participated in the war: the Kingdom of Polia and the Empire of Lucia.
They could only feel fortunate that they had made the right choice—and that the other had done the same.
The Kingdom of Polia and the Empire of Lucia were deeply intertwined, their interests and conflicts bound far too tightly. If either side had entered the war, the other would have inevitably been dragged in. And the devastation wrought by this war had already driven everyone to despair.
It could be said that the most powerful figures on this land had all assembled here.
To bring an end to the largest, longest-lasting episode of human self-destruction in history—thirty-four years of war.
Of course—
Many stories never had an ending. Over the course of this long war, apart from the Grand Duke of Eisenwald, every single ruler of every empire, kingdom, and duchy had changed. Even the Emperor of Castilia, Felipe III, and the Emperor of the Holy Federation, Ferdinand II—
Though they were cousins, both devout Catholics, and allies who had supported each other through the war—
Once it was over—
They could no longer walk the same path. The Thirty-Four Years' War had carved irreparable fissures between Castilia and the Holy Federation—across religion, warfare, interests—across every facet, it had left behind irredeemable sins. When they met again, the two could only look at each other in silence.
Also in attendance, naturally, was the Prime Minister of the Empire of Albion, Count Raxem.
Upon arriving in Vienna—
Count Raxem immediately sought out Ning Luo for a meeting.
Holy Federation.
Austria.
Vienna.
Schönbrunn Palace.
Count Raxem stood beside Ning Luo, dressed in a dark crimson robe, holding a glass of red wine.
"To be honest, I still feel like I'm dreaming. Even now, I can't believe I'm signing an armistice agreement."
Ning Luo still sat in his wheelchair.
The bullet lodged in his abdomen remained. It was likely to stay with him forever, an occasional throb of pain reminding him of the war. And with little rest since, it would probably take half a year before he could move freely again.
"Should I congratulate you? You've become the great leader who ended the war for the Empire."
The former young emperor's health had been too poor to manage state affairs.
And the newly appointed Empress, Princess Maria, had only gone so far as to suspend the war bonds. So in practical terms, Count Raxem had always been the leader of the Empire of Albion.
The man who sustained the Empire through war—and brought it to its end.
That achievement alone made Count Raxem worthy of the word great. His name was destined to be etched into history.
Count Raxem shook his head.
"Better not. It's really nothing worth celebrating. Once the war is over, let me resign. I no longer want to be Prime Minister."
"After the war, your power will reach its peak. I won’t be able to stop you."
"The first reason I want to resign is that I'm already old. All my strength, my entire life, has been poured into this war. I no longer have the energy to deal with what comes after."
“Leave postwar matters to you younger folks. Let me try to find out how normal people live,” said Count Raxem as he turned to look at Ning Luo.
“The second reason— I don’t want to work with you.”
Whether it was Count Raxem or Marshal Asfled, for their generation—
War had consumed their entire lives.
Without war, they wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves.
After the war, Count Raxem would become the greatest Prime Minister the Empire had ever seen. His power would evolve into something beyond the political system itself—something spiritual, revered. Even Ning Luo would find it hard to challenge.
But Count Raxem gave it all up.
After experiencing war to such an extent, the struggle for power had lost all meaning.
Of course—
Count Raxem also had no desire to work alongside Ning Luo. Ning Luo’s nature was wholly autocratic, refusing to heed anyone’s advice. Working with him meant either obeying him completely, or getting rid of him.
Clearly, Count Raxem was not the kind of Prime Minister who would obey. And he had no way to make Ning Luo leave.
So Count Raxem chose to leave himself.
Ning Luo raised his own glass in response—though it held only fruit juice.
“May our souls never find peace.”
.....
The Vienna Conference was meant to provide a platform for the empires to communicate and resolve all outstanding matters right there in Vienna.
For example, issues between the Holy Federation and the Scandinavian Empire.
Or those between the Empire of Albion and the Kingdom of Fontaine.
The Kingdom of Fontaine was represented by none other than the Sun King, Louis XIV. He would engage in lengthy negotiations with the Empire of Albion. A ceasefire was not something that could be achieved merely by saying the word. Even now, the Empire of Albion still occupied a significant portion of Fontaine’s territory, while the Kingdom of Fontaine held lands south of the city of Brittany.
The front lines between Albion and Fontaine were still active—the war hadn’t ended yet.
Both sides knew the war was about to conclude, but progress on a ceasefire agreement was nearly impossible. The inevitable outcome would be a new border drawn along the existing front lines: whoever could bite off another piece of land would gain that much more territory.
However—
Marshal Asfled, the Chief of General Staff of the Albion Imperial Army, had unilaterally ordered a halt to the fighting. He had withdrawn all forces to establish a security zone—both for Fontaine and for Albion.
November 10th, 1064.
Schönbrunn Palace.
Imperial Hall.
Pope Pius X stood at the head of the grand hall, holding the papal staff.
“The tragedy of thirty-four years ends here and now. I ask you all to sign your names to the armistice agreement.”
Stacks of documents were distributed to the representatives of each nation present.
The detailed negotiations had long since been settled behind closed doors; what took place now in this public setting was merely the final signing ceremony.
The Empire of Albion and the Kingdom of Fontaine would cease hostilities along the current front line. The Holy Federation, the Empire of Castilia, the Scandinavian Empire, the Kingdom of Saint Vite, and the Kingdom of Helvia would all return to prewar conditions, with the Holy Federation granting religious freedom to all its duchies.
After every party had signed the agreement—
Pope Pius X affixed his seal to validate it. The final copy was then handed to Ning Luo, as he held the lowest military rank among those present. To this day, Ning Luo still held the rank of second lieutenant. But owing to his status, his wounds, and what he represented, it was Ning Luo who would make the formal declaration.
As Ning Luo wheeled himself out of Schönbrunn Palace—
All eyes turned to him. Nobles, soldiers, journalists—everyone watched.
Ning Luo braced himself and slowly rose from his wheelchair.
“That beautiful war has now been fought. The path we were meant to walk—we have walked to the end. The duty we were meant to uphold—we have upheld. From now on, the crown of justice shall be laid up for us.”
He raised the document in his hand.
“The war is over!”
...
There were no cheers.
No elation.
Only a cold numbness. In truth, the war wasn’t officially over yet—not until tomorrow at 11 a.m.
Tonight was fated to be a sorrowful one. For many, they looked forward to the chance to return home. And for many, there was no home left to return to.
For many, today would be their final opportunity.
And for Ning Luo, he too had to return immediately.
There were still soldiers in Brittany waiting for him—Isabella waiting for him.
However—
Even in such a moment, Ning Luo received bad news.
It was a letter from Cinderella.
The contents were simple: she asked Ning Luo to return to Brittany first. With the ceasefire in effect, news of the Duke of Dortmund had reached the Holy Federation. Cinderella needed to return and see her father. She assured Ning Luo not to worry about her. Once affairs in Berlin were settled, she would go to Brittany to find him right away—she wouldn’t break their promise.
But upon learning of Cinderella’s departure, Ning Luo burst through the door, roaring—
“Who authorized Princess Dortmund to leave?! Bring her back immediately!”
Ning Luo’s fury drew even General Carlwitz.
After all—
This sort of decision would have required Carlwitz’s approval. Otherwise, Cinderella wouldn’t have been allowed to leave under any circumstances.
It was the first time General Carlwitz had seen Ning Luo so visibly shaken.
He could only reply—
“Don’t worry. Princess Dortmund won’t be in danger. At the very least, I believe you can trust Colonel Prittwitz.”
It was Colonel Prittwitz and his regiment who had been assigned to escort Cinderella home.
No matter how dangerous the journey, it couldn’t be that dangerous.
“No, that’s not it.”
Ning Luo clutched his forehead in anguish.
“She can’t endure it.”
General Carlwitz had just opened his mouth to respond—
When he understood what Ning Luo meant.
The war had lasted so long, so long that Carlwitz had forgotten: to a young girl, the brutality of war should never have been something she had to understand.
But were there places on this land more brutal than the Brittany fortress? More brutal than the Immortal Bastion?
Yes—there were.