End of War

25th of Decen, Holy Holiday, Bernun Peace Conference, Gernmania

""Here is the peace treaty, Princess. Please sign this, and this will end the war," the Chancellor said solemnly as he handed the treaty papers to Anna.

Anna carefully reviewed the conditions outlined in the treaty, her brow furrowing with concern as she absorbed the implications. The terms demanded Freidstein's surrender of the disputed territories, all vital industrial hubs. Losing these regions would undoubtedly cripple Freidstein's economy, exacerbated by the hefty thirty eight billion reis in war reparations..

"Excuse me, Chancellor may I ask why we would pay this thirty eight billion reis?" Anna queried, her voice tinged with frustration "We've suffered countless casualties, our cities lay in ruin. It's simply impossible for us to meet such a demand. With our industrialized lands stripped away, our road to recovery is further obstructed."

"Well, Your Majesty, your financial affairs are not our concern. You lost the war, and now it's time to fulfill the terms of the treaty," the Chancellor retorted, his tone unwavering

Anna felt humiliated by this treaty. She picked up the pen and decided to sign the treaty, even though it's against her will, just for the sake of her people. She stood up after she finished signing the treaty.

"Is that all, Mr. Chancellor? Now, if you'll excuse me, I will return to Grazia," Anna stated firmly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil brewing within her. With measured steps, she made her way to the awaiting horse-drawn carriage, a stoic facade masking the tumult of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 

"Let's go back to Grazia."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

While the carriage was traveling to Grazia, Anna was crying inside. "Why, Father? I'm not ready for this responsibility. Why did you declare this war, knowing that our enemy is an empire? What are your motives, Father, for doing this? You're only causing suffering for our people. I can't do this alone, Father. Why? Why? Why?" Tears streamed down her face as she grappled with the weight of her father's decisions and the burden of leadership thrust upon her shoulders.

*****

On the 26th of December, after two days of the occupation of Freidstein, the Princess of Freidstein signed the peace treaty, bringing an end to the war.

I believe the reason behind not fully annexing Freidstein as planned is that Gernmania would share borderlands with the Imperial of Ruskova, which has territorial claims in Freidstein. By establishing Freidstein as a buffer state, they aim to prevent potential border conflicts in the future. However, with those unequal treaties, Friedstein is humiliated, and I fear that it will spark a revolution.

Instead of marching back to the capital city, we boarded the train to return. If we marched back to the city, it would take 3 to 5 days to return to the capital, and we might end up like Napoleon and his men during his campaign in Russia, where half of his men died due to winter.

However, the train was incredibly overcrowded. It felt like I was a sardine in a can. I envied the high-ranking officers who were in spacious train wagons with warm beds, sipping their hot coffee. Meanwhile, Alaric and I were in a cold, open-door wagon freezing to death. 

After enduring sixteen hours of hellish experience, we successfully returned to Bernun, the capital city of Gernmania, for a victory parade. People cheered as we marched, showing their patriotism for the country. It struck me War indeed serves as a solution to divert the attention of citizens who are discontent with the government. This strategy has been used many times in my old world. 

After the military parade, I was invited to a victory party with Alaric. However, Alaric was hesitant to come to the party because he felt he was the only demihuman there. I assured him, "Don't worry. If someone insults you because of your race, they will taste the tip of my sword." He laughed at my comment but eventually decided to come. My main intention for attending was the food they served, as I wanted to eat real food, not the kind served in the army—hard bread that feels like you're eating a rock and chicken soup without salt. Despite Gernmania being a militaristic country, it seems they don't allocate enough budget for their soldiers' food. They only seem to care about their weapons and blah blah, neglecting the well-being of the manpower that brings glory to their empire.

While I'm at the party, I'm amazed by the extravagant food that only the high-ranking hierarchy can enjoy. It's been a while since I've tasted real food, so I plan to savor every bite, relishing the flavors as I slowly munch. As I load my plate with delicacies, I suddenly hear a familiar voice.

"Enjoying the food, Friedrich?"