Chapter 213: Westphalia 3

The scene before my eyes was like a bustling market square, filled with countless people gathered from all over the continent.

A huge crowd swarming about, regardless of age or gender.

Observing their appearance, Cazerus beside me spoke with a voice filled with genuine amazement:

“Wow… I really had no idea so many people would come. To be honest, this feels more like a festival than a conference.”

“Yes, I agree.”

The procession of innumerable people packed the streets of Westphalia Palace to the brim.

Most of them presented themselves with flags or clothing symbolizing their countries, making it easy for us to recognize how many foreigners had come here.

Not only the lords related to this war from inside and outside the Holy Roman Empire who had sent envoys, but also state delegations from the Kingdom of France, the Kalmar Union, and even the far-off Kingdom of Britten across the sea.

Although they came under the banner of ‘delegations’, their numbers were by no means just one or two people.

The numbers ranged from a few dozen at the least, to several hundred at most, and some were even divided into multiple groups, meaning their total was greater than met the eye.

Of course, among them, those who could actually enter the conference hall to represent their countries numbered less than 100.

And even that included the bare minimum of escorts and secretaries. Those with actual speaking rights were only about 20 or so, and of those, perhaps only around 5 held truly meaningful influence.

Yet the reason for the overwhelming number of people here in Westphalia was simple.

Those gathered here were all the faces representing their respective countries.

Their scale and the prestige it conveyed was equivalent to displaying their nation’s power.

In that sense, the large turnout in the delegations was not only for practical purposes but also calculated to show off their country’s might to others.

In a way, it was like children wearing nice clothes to school and then flaunting and comparing them in front of their friends – a childish behavior.

However, the arena of politics originally began with such puerile displays of national ego contests.

Even in the midst of conducting the negotiations, there would inevitably be tedious ego contests over trivial matters like who gets introduced first or who sits in the higher seats – the so-called precedence protocol.

And the fact that this felt like a festival or market square was not just a mere impression, as most of those present had come here with ample spare time.

Their shared mindset was that no matter the outcome, they would not return until they were satisfied, having no urgency.

In other words, this place was filled with guests prepared for a long stay, and furthermore, as representatives of their countries, they were all deep-pocketed customers without exception.

As a result, there were also no small number of merchants hoping to sell goods to them, or others seeking to profit from related odd jobs, still flocking here even now.

If not for my own position, even I would have wanted to do business here, as the opportunities were so lucrative.

‘The problem is that as someone who has to conduct the conference, that situation is anything but welcome…’

Once these international conferences began their dance, they tended to go on endlessly.

In fact, in the original work, for the first six months after the Westphalian Congress began, all they did was bicker over that very trivial issue of precedence order.

The childish ego contest of trying to elevate their national standing even slightly.

On top of that, another year was spent arguing over the causes of this war and related responsibilities, only allowing the actual negotiations to finally commence after enduring that tedious period.

‘Back then there were reasons for it, but this time, although the situation is somewhat different, I can’t be completely at ease either…’

The meaningless waste of time the Westphalian Congress appeared to be in the original work.

But of course, it was not because all the participants were hopeless fools.

Despite their appearance, they were figures with the education, eloquence, and power befitting national representatives.

Although the current lineup gathered here was far more prominent compared to back then, those who participated as delegates at that time were also respected figures in their own countries.

Yet the biggest reason the original participants dragged out the congress was their calculated attempts to hold the negotiations at times as advantageous to themselves as possible.

‘In the original work, battles continued even as the Westphalian Congress was underway…’

In fact, during the early stages when the war favored the Kingdoms of France and Kalmar, the Imperial delegation did everything they could to stall the proceedings.

In contrast, when the tides turned for the Holy Roman Empire to gain the upper hand in the middle stages, it was the French and Kalmar forces who dragged their feet.

And that vicious, maddening procrastination from the observers’ perspective finally ended swiftly in the late stages, when the Holy Roman Empire’s power was utterly depleted with no capacity left to prolong the congress any further.

‘In that sense, this Westphalian Congress will probably not drag on as much. Unlike the original, the overall war is currently in a stalemate.’

Of course, if mishandled in these negotiations, the possibility of reigniting the war always existed.

In that regard, this place was essentially a massive powder keg… but fortunately, I had judged the possibility to be relatively low.

Because I had a reasonable grasp of what was on the minds of those present here, and their converging interests in relation to that.

Granted, about 60% of that was thanks to the power of the original work’s knowledge.

‘A few months at the shortest. Half a year at most before concluding everything. Since those present include chancellors and high officials from each country, they cannot afford to drag it out too long either…’

With those thoughts, I began heading away from this market square-like venue toward the prince’s palace under relatively strict control.

From here on, not just any envoy could enter, only those I had discussed in advance.

In that sense, I too had left behind the servants and soldiers I had brought along for show, only taking those who could be called my close aides.

Cazerus and Polena, and my sister Baiken and Freddie as our escorts.

The four of us proceeded through the checkpoints and into the prince’s palace.

Then…

“Oh…my friend! Santana Andreas!”

“Ah…Lord Friedrich.”

A familiar, bright voice suddenly rang out.

At this, I tried to courteously greet the neighborhood fool…no, the Prince-Elector of the Holy Roman Empire and nominal leader of the Heretical Alliance, Friedrich.

“Ahh… let us dispense with such formalities. There is no need for such ceremony between us now, is there?”

Showing his unaffected demeanor at my attitude, Prince-Elector Friedrich genuinely expressed his delight.

In response, I showed a smile at this likable… if a little lacking but utterly kind ‘friend’, and said:

“Yes, Your Highness. Then I too shall speak casually as before. Have you been well?”

“Haha of course, truthfully there were a few close calls, but thanks to you I was able to overcome those crises. I may never forget that fact in my lifetime.”

“You honor me with those words. Then shall we go inside for the full story?”

“Indeed, I have many tales to tell from this time.”

Together with the genuinely joyful Friedrich, my group and I proceeded into the prince’s palace.

And alongside our reunion, in the back, my wife Cazerus and Friedrich’s wife Elizabeth began exchanging somewhat awkward greetings.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame Elizabeth Stewart.”

“I have heard much about you. It is good to meet you, Madame Cazerus Sophia Andreas.”