Chapter 210: The Butterfly Effect 5

“Westphalia, you say? To host the peace accords there?”

“Yes, milord. Lord Wallenstein has proposed convening there to expedite this interminable conflict’s conclusion as swiftly as feasible.”

“Hmm…”

Polena’s briefing outlined an ostensibly advantageous overture – the prospect of definitively neutralizing the ecclesiastical opposition which had relentlessly menaced us until now.

Yet independent of those salutary implications, I found myself profoundly disconcerted by this unfolding trajectory’s unprecedented deviations from my prior narrative awareness.

‘Events have progressed so…unexpectedly rapidly, have they not? Not an unwelcome development, perhaps – but still far outpacing my initial projections…’

The impending Westphalian Peace Congress did indeed presage this interminable war’s longoverdue resolution alongside religious tolerance’s consecration throughout the Holy Roman Empire.

But that hard-won denouement originally remained decades away according to established canon – not materializing until over twenty grueling years later around 1648 after the war’s thirtieth anniversary.

By that point, all the principal protagonists like Emperors Sigismund and Ferdinand, Wallenstein, Friedrich and so many others had long perished.

The Empire itself teetered upon absolute ruination after sustaining over 30% civilian casualties alongside total economic implosion.

Diplomacy only commenced once that apocalyptic conflagration had expended every conceivable remaining fuel source – the peace process emerging from a veritable wasteland of comprehensive devastation.

‘Yet here we are – barely a decade since hostilities erupted – with those selfsame accords being initiated not by Imperial mandate…but at Wallenstein’s autonomous insistence instead…’

The profound divergences from my established pre-isekai cognizance remained staggering – yet I comprehended their underlying causalities with relative facility:

‘Well…I can’t exactly feign surprise over the reasons behind this unprecedented acceleration, can I…?’

Indeed, this unexpectedly premature olive branch emerged as a direct consequence of my own relentless machinations throughout this plane’s visitation.

Wallenstein himself – the coup’s principal instigator against that same obdurate sovereign – originally remained among the Emperor’s most stalwart loyalists until his power and autonomy grew so unpalatable that Sigismund orchestrated his assassination.

At the pivotal juncture where Hestia exhorted defection, the canonical Wallenstein steadfastly retained his fealty despite clear signs of his liege’s catastrophic misrule – a tragic lapse ultimately consigning him and his adherents towards utter ruination.

That he now proactively deposed the Emperor stemmed directly from my interventions forcing increasingly harrowing realpolitik reckonings – exponentially magnifying the dangers arrayed against his camp.

The Lorraine territories which should have sustained crippling reverses against Spinola instead routed the Imperial armies before consolidating as a burgeoning northwestern threat alongside Friedrich’s auxiliaries.

France openly intervened rather than maintaining detached neutrality – already occupying Lorraine while posing reinvigorated western perils.

Northward, Kalmar’s battered legions featured King Gustavus unbroken after repulsing Christian IV – preserving his incisive leadership for renewed offensives against the Empire’s core.

And then there was Bohemia itself – canonically extinguished as a geopolitical entity yet presently constituting this anti-Imperial coalition’s most formidable lynchpin backed by the Dragonian Empire’s overwhelming might.

Facing multidirectional threats of such unprecedented magnitudes while an embittered sovereign systematically purged all pragmatic counsel left Wallenstein increasingly unencumbered towards pursuing this audacious recourse.

‘Moreover, every external counterbalance previously constraining his autonomy has evaporated through my disruptive presences…’

Canonically, Spinola yet survived to monitor Wallenstein’s ambitions alongside an Imperial-reinforced Tilly reconstituting after Mansfeld’s defeat.

In this skewed reality, however, Spinola perished ingloriously while Tilly wasted away with negligible support – eliminating those ‘Cerberus hounds’ originally leashed to Wallenstein’s ascendancy.

With every internal and external impediment so conveniently neutralized or outright eliminated, Wallenstein’s eventual capitulation to Hestia’s provocations alongside his subsequent coup’s unimpeded success became utterly inevitable.

‘Well…while unintended, I can hardly complain about these positive ramifications. Less upheaval means fewer innocents condemned to misery and death – so I’ll gladly accept this premature opportunity to end the calamity.’

Indeed, ever since first arrivinf in this plane, expediting this war’s conclusion represented my overarching imperative despite all other entangling commitments.

So as that original undertaking serendipitously materialized, I found myself awash with peculiar sentiment – for this represented an utterly unpremeditated yet fortuitous culmination of my protracted endeavors thus far.

From regaining my deposed hereditary station onward, every subsequent maneuver aimed solely towards self-preservation and that of House Alzersen alongside our closest compatriots.

Developments like the Dragonian alliance owed to fortuitous circumstances generated by Estelle and Kazerus more than any prescient strategizing on my part.

Assisting Friedrich stemmed as much from personal affinities as pragmatic considerations – my sentiments compelled to spare that endearingly hapless man-child from canonical obliteration.

Fortunately, he now languished in comfortable Lorraine hospitality rather than the wretched destitution canonically awaiting him post-Lorraine.

France’s present belligerence represented nothing more than cynical opportunism exploiting our favorable circumstances for their own enrichment – their policies remaining fundamentally invariant either path.

In other words, while unpremeditated, my cumulative undertakings catalyzed this present propitious juncture regardless.

So at this pivotal crossroads, I resolved to unreservedly embrace the unexpected path fate had precipitated me towards:

‘Well…I suppose this constitutes the natural route towards that elusive finale, does it not? May as well commit wholeheartedly to this trajectory then…’

The original Westphalian Congress spanned nearly five agonizing years of grueling negotiations – countless internecine factions remaining hopelessly entangled after three decades of unremitting slaughter.

Shifting battlefront reverses continually altered the diplomatic dynamics mid-proceedings as fortunes waxed and waned unpredictably.

‘Fortunately, we likely avoid such convoluted intransigence this time around…though daunting obstacles undoubtedly remain.’

Our present ascendancy positioned Bohemia and the heretical alliance as clear senior partners compared to the deposed Emperor and his spurned Wallenstein currently sponsoring these accords.

With maximum prudent exploitation of that leverage remaining my utmost priority, I issued succinct instructions towards Polena:

“If the deposed Emperor requests our participation, naturally we must assent. Prepare the requisite arrangements – under the circumstances, I believe my personal presence supersedes dispatching surrogates on Father’s behalf.”

“As you dictate, Lord Santana.”

As the deferential Polena bowed in acquiescence, a flicker of inscrutable determination flickered briefly across her impassive features before dissipating as swiftly as it manifested.

Paying it little heed, I refocused my attentions upon meticulously outlining this momentous diplomatic gambit’s optimal endgame parameters.