The cold wind lashed across his face like a knife, and Wolfgang felt a burning sting. As the Imperial Field Marshal, the pressure on him during this period was as heavy as a mountain, often making it hard for him to breathe, and he was often awakened at night.
Are bad news coming from the front lines? Which more areas have fallen? How are the civilians in the fallen areas living now? Are they being massacred?
The army's morale is low. How should they fight the next battle? When can they reclaim the occupied territories and let the refugees return to their homes?
Wolfgang struggled to find answers to any of the questions. Even as a Field Marshal, he felt powerless, and the only person he could rely on was the Supreme Ruler of the Empire, von Palen.
But what is the Emperor like now? Wolfgang, though unwilling to admit it, knew that the Emperor had gone all in, determined to continue the war with the full force of the nation, regardless of the consequences. But what would that turn into?
Wolfgang, sitting in his chair, pulled off his hat, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his hair. He gradually realized that the empire seemed to be heading towards destruction.
The moment that thought popped into his head, he understood many things.
A country that rises rapidly through war will quickly crumble if it suffers continuous damage in war.
The current state of society serves as proof of this: when beliefs are shaken, all actions become weak and powerless.
Dingle's words, though overly blunt, were a cruel truth, causing Wolfgang to finally tremble uncontrollably, his lips turning pale.
The cold wind, however, made Dingle even more alert. Snapping out of his daze, he slammed the window shut and walked over to Wolfgang.
"You must immediately gather the military personnel and together propose to the Emperor that he change his mind. We are willing to pay any price as long as this war can be ended as soon as possible."
Wolfgang clutched his head, staring blankly at the floor, his lips tightly pressed together, saying nothing.
"General Dylan, with the Sixth Army, blocked the Yan Kingdom's advance by employing a suicidal tactic. If the Yan Kingdom's follow-up troops advance again, the situation will deteriorate further."
"Our nation and country will inevitably perish... and when that happens, it will be too late to turn back."
Wolfgang remained silent, but his eyes gradually became bloodshot.
Dingle's expression gradually turned cold, and he continued, "If you believe that you cannot change the Emperor's mind through persuasion..."
"Then we must resort to force..."
At this point, Wolfgang suddenly stood up, his trembling lips moving as he looked at Dingle and said:
"Can you give me some time?"
Dingle stared coldly into Wolfgang's eyes: "We don't have much time left. Every moment, people are dying because of this war."
“Those civilians…”
At this point, Wolfgang reached out and patted Dingle on the shoulder, his voice trembling as he said:
"I know."
"I only need one night, one night is enough."
"I will give you an answer tomorrow morning, before I go to see the Emperor, okay?"
Looking at Wolfgang's tired and pained face, Dingle finally let out a long sigh:
"good."
"However, I still want to remind you that our nation and country are built on the foundation of millions of people, not on any one person or regime."
Wolfgang nodded slowly, picked up the hat from the table, and said with a serious expression:
"I see."
"That's all for now. You should rest. I'll come find you again tomorrow morning."
With that, Wolfgang turned and walked toward the door.
And at this time.
"Father!"
"Loyalty to the country! Loyalty to the people!"
Dingle stood ramrod straight and spoke in a resounding voice to Wolfgang's retreating figure.
Wolfgang, who had reached the door, placed his hand on the latch without turning around, and said softly:
"good evening."
"son."
As soon as he finished speaking, he opened the door, put the hat he was holding on his head, and walked out into the cold wind, pulling down the brim of the hat.
——
The royal castle is located on the second basement level, inside the sleeping quarters.
With a "smack," Feng Palen tossed the crumpled draft into the wastebasket. Frustrated, he put down his pen and stared silently at the blank paper on his desk, arms crossed.
It's late at night now, but he still hasn't finished preparing for tomorrow's meeting.
"Bang bang."
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Feng Palen immediately frowned.
"What is it?!" he shouted coldly. In fact, unless there was an emergency, he would never allow anyone to disturb him at this time.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty, Field Marshal Wolfgang has come to see you," said the guard standing outside the door.
"I'm asking what it is?!" Von Palen's brows furrowed even more deeply.
"Field Marshal Wolfgang did not say it explicitly, only that he requested to see you. He has been here for some time, and Minister Bowerman is receiving Field Marshal Wolfgang."
"Has something unexpected happened?"
"As it stands, Your Majesty, there is no sudden event," the guard replied.
"Let him go back. We'll talk about it tomorrow." Von Palen picked up his pen, displeased.
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