I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France

Chapter 717: Competitive Spirit

The vast land was soundless and all things were silent.

In the deep night of Peleș Castle, only the occasional chirps of insects and birds in the forest reminded the world of its unpredictability.

On the third floor of the palace, the light on one side of the study was on. Under the amber light, shadows moved as if in a heated argument.

Their debate was so fierce that the occasional shout penetrated the window, waking the hounds sleeping downstairs, causing them to grunt uneasily.

"I don’t think our army can defeat the Germans!" Queen Mary placed a stack of documents in front of Ferdinand I.

She knew she couldn’t easily convince the King, so she got some data from France before returning.

"Look at this." Queen Mary heavily tapped the documents: "This is the recent Battle of the River Somme. The Germans, with far fewer troops, defeated the British Expeditionary Force, which was nearly a million strong, double the size of our entire army."

Ferdinand I objected: "This is not relevant, Mary..."

"Then tell us what is relevant?" Queen Mary interrupted the King: "Do you insist on using Shire’s Armored Army as a reference?"

Queen Mary angrily opened another stack of documents:

"Look at this, see what kind of troops Shire’s units are, and his tactics. His tactics have been included in the French textbooks, every battle!"

"Do you really think our troops can compare to Shire’s?"

"Do we have tanks, planes, or Shire’s wisdom?"

Ferdinand I slapped his forehead, speaking with displeasure: "God, you’ve been bewitched by Shire. In your heart, he is invincible, isn’t he?"

"Otherwise?" Queen Mary retorted: "The truth is no one can defeat him. The whole world marvels at Shire’s military genius. Only we, who haven’t participated in the war, know little about him and naively think we can defeat the Germans like he does."

"I don’t think we can be like him, Mary." Ferdinand I countered:

"But our situation is different. Our troops are highly motivated."

"Most of Transylvania consists of Romanians who will provide us assistance."

"Moreover, the Germans are exhausted, surrounded on all sides. This is our perfect opportunity..."

Queen Mary interrupted Ferdinand I, her tone resolute:

"No, you are wrong."

"Our troops are more like the British Army, which was defeated by the Germans with inferior numbers at the River Somme."

"We are even worse than the British Army. The only difference is that the British Army had Shire to save them, but we don’t!"

Ferdinand I was speechless. He stared at Mary blankly. After a while, he softened his tone: "This can’t be changed, Mary. I don’t want to argue with you. What I hope to hear is not ’we will fail,’ but ’we will succeed.’ Do you understand?"

Queen Mary sighed lightly, glanced at the documents on the table, and finally gave Ferdinand I some advice: "I hope you understand what you are doing, Your Majesty. Also, please look at these materials; you will know the reality we face!"

With that, she turned and left the study, leaving Ferdinand I standing there in a daze.

For a long time, Ferdinand I walked over to the desk heavily, flipped through the documents on the table, but couldn’t concentrate at all.

This is a different battlefield, he thought. What can this explain?

"No!" Ferdinand I muttered to himself: "Romanian warriors are not like you think. We will not lose. This is a just war!"

Ferdinand I didn’t realize he had brought personal feelings into military decisions.

Queen Mary made a mistake.

She shouldn’t have shown admiration for another man in front of her husband, especially when her husband was a proud king.

Not every king is as magnanimous as Albert I.

In fact, Albert I was not magnanimous. He was simply seasoned by war, knowing that the title of ’King’ is insignificant in the face of the harsh realities of war.

Ferdinand I didn’t know this. In Romania, he was always revered by the masses.

Even though he was just a small nation’s king, even though kings in this era didn’t hold great power, and even though his status as a king couldn’t be compared to Shire’s position.

But a king is, after all, a king. He must be psychologically dominant.

Therefore, Queen Mary’s persuasion not only didn’t work but also stirred Ferdinand I’s competitiveness, or perhaps jealousy.

This made him even more eager to prove himself with a victory, further solidifying his decision to attack Transylvania.

...

Shire slept at the City Defense Headquarters that night.

This was because he talked late into the night with Gallieni; otherwise, he would have preferred to return to Davaz Town.

Early the next morning, Shire was woken by the cheers coming from the street.

He emerged from the bed and lifted a corner of the curtain to look at the street, where citizens were scrambling for newspapers at the newsstand.

The queue of those buying newspapers stretched long, seemingly endless.

Those who didn’t get one craned their necks anxiously, while those who did looked excited as they exclaimed:

"God, they say it’s true. Shire indeed invented the incendiary bullet. He burned the entire German Tank Division to ashes!"

"An entire Tank Division? The one that defeated the British and surrounded Dunkirk’s first German Tank Division?"

"Yes, of course. The Germans only had one Tank Division."

"Not anymore, apparently!"

...

People laughed proudly.

They enjoyed the victory over the British, and if they spotted some British people, they would boast with newspapers in hand.

They would emphasize how easily Shire defeated the German Tank Division that had once routed the British Army.

"Ridiculous." Shire muttered and burrowed back under the covers.

After an all-nighter through Verdun, he always felt tired.

At that moment, knocks came from the door, and a signalman reported outside: "General, Mr. Wells is on the phone. He says it’s urgent."

"Wells?" Shire felt puzzled.

Wells usually didn’t contact Shire directly; typically, he’d go through Tijani first.

But now he called directly here, indicating something unusual was happening.

Shire quickly got up, dressed swiftly, put on his military coat, opened the door, and hurried to the communication room to take the phone from the signalman.

"General." Wells’ anxious voice came from the other end: "The parliament hopes we will stop building destroyers to allocate more resources to the army."

"What?" Shire couldn’t believe what he heard: "But it’s my money, and we need them built..."

"They said we could hand this task over to Neon." Wells replied: "Neon would build these ten destroyers for us!"