Morin immediately stood up, straightened his uniform, and bowed to the young Archduke. "Your Highness."
Young Maximilian Eugen waved his hand somewhat awkwardly, signaling there was no need for such formality.
These past few days, he had heard others discussing this mysterious Saxon Imperial Colonel Morin many times.
Even before this coup crisis, Archduke Eugen had already heard of the illustrious reputation of this allied colonel.
In those rumors, this man was a god of death walking on the battlefield, a monster capable of dismantling Armored Knights bare-handed, and the hero who turned the tide during this turmoil in Vienna.
Walking into the drawing-room, Archduke Eugen didn't carry the arrogance typical of royalty.
His somewhat excited expression and shining eyes made him look more like an ordinary teenager meeting his idol.
But in reality, this 17-year-old Archduke was truly "born in Rome with a golden spoon in his mouth."
In the Austrian Habsburg Dynasty, "Archduke" was not an honorary title granted through enfeoffment or a coming-of-age ceremony, but an innate status.
It was a hereditary title automatically possessed exclusively by direct male members of the Habsburg royal family... and this system originated from the Privilegium Maius (Great Privilege) of 1358.
It is worth noting that this Privilegium Maius was actually a forgery.
But it was also precisely by relying on this forged Privilegium Maius that the Habsburg family became a special political entity within the Holy Roman Empire.
Back then, Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV pulled a major stunt in 1356 by promulgating the famous Golden Bull.
This edict established the privileged status of the seven Prince-Electors: the Archbishop of Mainz, the Archbishop of Cologne, the Archbishop of Trier, the King of Bohemia, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, the Duke of Saxony-Wittenberg, and the Margrave of Brandenburg.
This move essentially monopolized the electoral rights for the imperial throne within the hands of these seven princes.
Yes, even the ancestors of those "Bohemian bumpkins" who launched the coup a few days ago were once true Prince-Electors.
Charles IV basically said: "I'm going to form a super awesome Emperor Election Team, and all the big shots in the HRE will be invited. But guess who isn't getting an invite?"
Under these circumstances, the Habsburg family was completely excluded from the list of Prince-Electors, which was simply an extraordinary humiliation for a family that had always thought highly of itself.
The head of the Habsburg family at the time was the 19-year-old Rudolf IV.
At this critical juncture, this young and vigorous family head did not choose to swallow his pride or raise an army to rebel, but rather decided to show off his "literary talents."
Rudolf IV simply dove headlong into the court archives in Vienna and began his grand "literary creation" project.
He first found an authentic ancestral document: the Privilegium Minus (Lesser Privilege) issued by Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa in 1156.
In this decree, the Emperor elevated the former March of Bavaria and Austria into a duchy and granted it as an inheritable fief to the House of Babenberg. (This family died out in the male line in 1246, and was subsequently succeeded by the House of Habsburg).
Using this as a blueprint, Rudolf IV began his bold forgery project.
This mad genius forged five documents in one breath, the most core of which was called the Privilegium Maius.
In this document, he blew the status of the Habsburg family out of all proportion.
To make this fake document look the part, Rudolf IV spared no expense.
He not only imitated ancient Latin calligraphy but also specially forged seals, and even painstakingly aged the parchment, using various physical means to pass it off as genuine.
In these forged documents, he claimed that Austria's privileges could be traced back to the eras of Roman Emperors Nero and Caesar.
"Claims"... were a very important thing to the royalty and nobility of Europa.
So under Rudolf IV's rhetoric, the illustrious status of the Habsburg family was ordained by heaven and existed since ancient times; even the Holy Roman Emperor had no right to interfere.
And it was also in this absurd Privilegium Maius that Rudolf IV invented for himself an unprecedented title—Archduke.
This word was a neologism. Its status placed it above all ordinary dukes and endowed it with rights similar to those of the Prince-Electors of the Holy Roman Empire, such as:
The indivisibility of territory; Primogeniture... and later expanded to female heirs; Independent jurisdiction and legislative power, etc...
Later generations would never know what kind of expression the HRE Emperor Charles IV had when Rudolf IV took this Privilegium Maius to him to demand an explanation.
But obviously, Charles IV did not recognize the authentic validity of the Privilegium Maius.
However, this didn't prevent Rudolf IV from openly using the title of "Archduke" within Austria's borders.
He simply brazenly wore a replica crown and even began signing decrees in his capacity as Archduke...
At first, the major Prince-Electors just treated the Privilegium Maius as a joke.
Until 1440, when Frederick III of the House of Habsburg was crowned Holy Roman Emperor.
He immediately officially approved that long-dusty Privilegium Maius.
At this moment, Rudolf IV's century-old lie finally became the sacred law of the Empire.
The forged title of "Archduke of Austria" also officially became the exclusive glory of the House of Habsburg.
This was not only the greatest fraud in the history of the Habsburg family but also one of the most successful acts of political opportunism in the history of Europa.
It proved that in the game of power, sometimes the truth is not important...
What is important is whether you have enough patience and power to turn a lie into truth.
Looking at the somewhat reserved youth before him, Morin couldn't help but feel a bit emotional.
Who could have imagined that the descendants of that shrewd, cunning family that dared to lie to the entire Empire hundreds of years ago would look like this today?
If that Rudolf IV who dared to forge history had a spirit in heaven and saw that his descendants were either mad old men, naive pacifists, or this un-grown child before him, who knows if he'd jump out of his coffin in anger.
However, for the Saxon Empire, this "degeneration" was a good thing.
"They say that you alone... oh no, with your troops, just like in chivalric novels, jumped straight through the window into the Emperor's bedchambers?"
Archduke Eugen finally mustered the courage to speak, his eyes flashing with curiosity, even mimicking a jumping motion.
"Is this true? Just like those rangers in the legends?"
Morin looked at this guileless youth before him, the corners of his mouth rising slightly, revealing a highly affable smile.
This is truly a perfect blank slate.
Compared to Crown Prince Karl, who had his own opinions and wanted peaceful reforms, the one before him obviously aligned better with the interests of the Saxon Empire—obedient, worshipping the strong, and easy to control.
No wonder Crown Prince Georg came here looking for the Archduchess; clearly, there were matters other than family ties to discuss...
"Your Highness, rumors always have some exaggerated elements."
Morin neither directly admitted nor denied it, but spoke in a humble tone: "I did indeed enter through the window, but this was not to imitate a chivalric novel, but because taking the main door at that time... was slightly inconvenient."
"Slightly inconvenient?" Maximilian was stunned.
"Yes, after all, at that time there were twenty-some guns pointing from behind the main door. Although I wasn't afraid, to avoid damaging that expensive door, I chose the window."
This was obviously a joke. After all, the window Morin smashed wasn't exactly cheap either.
And Manstein even took the double-barreled shotgun Morin gave him and blew away the door lock with one shot...
But the young and naive Archduke Eugen, upon hearing this, was stunned for a second, then couldn't help but let out a low exclamation, his face showing an expression of both surprise and worship.
"My goodness... to avoid damaging the door..."
He seemed to completely take Morin's joke seriously, or rather, he was willing to believe this legendary explanation.
But he quickly realized his lapse in composure and scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly.
Looking at this somewhat shy young Archduke, Morin didn't show any impatience.
On the contrary, the smile on his face grew gentler.
"Your Highness, war is actually not as romantic as novels describe."
Morin provided a stepping stone at the right time and incidentally opened up the conversation.
"But under those circumstances, unconventional methods often achieve miraculous results."
"My apologies, Colonel... I might be a little too excited."
Maximilian lowered his head, looking at his well-maintained hands, his voice dropping: "Since childhood, I've loved listening to these stories of battle—those heroic charges, those moments of turning the tide..."
At this point, Archduke Eugen's voice paused, a trace of loneliness flashing in his eyes.
"But my brother... he always says that combat, war, violence—those are all acts of barbarians."
"He says war is the regression of civilization, a bloody tragedy, and we should use wisdom at the negotiating table to solve problems, not guns and cannons."
Mentioning his older brother, Archduke Eugen's eyes clearly dimmed.
Clearly, in front of that radiant Crown Prince brother viewed as the Empire's hope, he, the younger brother, not only lacked presence, but even his own hobbies and interests were invalidated.
Morin keenly caught this detail. This was simply a breakthrough delivered right to his doorstep.
"Your Highness, everyone has different views, this is very normal."
"In the eyes of some, combat is barbaric, it's destruction, it's annihilation."
"But in the eyes of others..."
Morin paused, looking into Maximilian's eyes until the other raised his head to meet his gaze.
"Combat is to protect important things."
In truth, Morin wasn't entirely sprouting bullshit; there was more or less some "genuine emotion" revealed. After all, he did indeed have things he needed to protect.
"Protect... important things?"
Maximilian repeated this phrase, his eyes somewhat bewildered yet somewhat touched.
In his environment growing up, especially influenced by his Crown Prince brother, war was always depicted as a disaster that must be avoided, a helpless continuation after political failure.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Morin nodded slightly. At this moment, he was like a patient older brother teaching his younger brother to recognize the cruel truths of this world.
"Just like that day at Hofburg Palace."
Morin pointed toward the window, his tone calm yet forceful.
"If I hadn't taken those so-called 'barbaric' measures, if I hadn't broken that window, if I hadn't pulled the trigger..."
"Then right now, Vienna might have changed masters, your uncle, and even your mother, might all be facing danger."
"Those coup plotters wouldn't lay down their butchers' knives because of our elegant rhetoric at the negotiating table. They would only mock our weakness and then thrust their bayonets into our chests."
"Your Highness, do you think drawing a sword to protect your family is barbaric?"
At this instant, Morin, this "Europa Incubus," went full throttle.
His aura, a mix of a soldier's iron blood, a spellcaster's mystery, and a transmigrator's unique confidence, held a simply fatal attraction for this adolescent youth yearning for power before him.
Young Archduke Eugen was stunned.
He felt his heart beating violently, a hot-bloodedness he had never experienced before surging up.
No one had ever spoken to him like this.
Although his mother was forceful, as a woman raised in a strict Catholic environment, she mostly taught him etiquette and piety.
His brother, Karl I, always used a compassionate posture to tell him to be merciful, to pursue peace.
Only this foreign colonel before him told him that violence could also be righteous, and barbarism could also be for the sake of protection.
"No... it's not barbaric!"
Archduke Eugen abruptly raised his head. The bewilderment in his eyes vanished, replaced by a firm brilliance he had never possessed before.
"That was... that was the act of a hero!"
"You are right, Your Highness."
Morin smiled warmly, taking the cue, and began telling Archduke Eugen some stories about the instruction unit.
This time, unlike when chatting with Cecilia and the others, he didn't deliberately omit those cruel moments on the battlefield.
Instead, he selected fragments that were both hot-blooded and full of tactical wisdom.
He recounted how, during that battle striking from Vienna Westbahnhof to the city center, the soldiers, at a disadvantage, relied on trust in their comrades and absolute obedience to orders to regain control step by step.
Of course, he also applied appropriate artistic embellishment, making these stories sound more gripping and more in line with a seventeen-year-old's fantasies of war.
Archduke Eugen listened, mesmerized.
He sometimes clenched his fists nervously, sometimes let out exclamations of awe, completely immersed in the world of iron and blood and glory that Morin constructed.
"That unit... that very formidable unit from Saxony, was it also trained by you?"
The youth asked with a face full of worship.
"Yes, that is my life's work."
Morin nodded, true pride in his tone.
It could be said that this instruction unit of the Saxon Empire was his proudest creation since transmigrating. Its status in Morin's heart far exceeded those technologies that had appeared early.
"If Your Highness is interested, you can visit Saxony when you have the chance. I can take you to tour our training grounds."
Just then, Crown Prince Georg and Archduchess Maria walked out from the study on the second floor.
The two had clearly finished discussing business, their expressions somewhat subtle.
When they saw this scene in the drawing-room from the stairs, both couldn't help but be taken aback.
The usually somewhat introverted Maximilian Eugen was currently sitting beside Morin, listening with relish, his face radiating rare excitement and worship.
And Morin, wearing a gentle smile, was patiently gesturing something.
This picture was so harmonious they looked like close friends who had known each other for years.
The corners of Crown Prince Georg's mouth curled up slightly, revealing a playful smile.
He glanced at his aunt beside him, lowering his voice: "It seems Lord Friedrich and Maximilian are getting along quite well."
Archduchess Maria looked at her youngest son, a trace of complex emotion flashing in her eyes.
There was surprise, gratification, and also a hint of a mother's worry for a son about to embark on an unknown path.
But ultimately, these emotions coalesced into a firm resolve.
In this current chaotic situation, weakness was the original sin.
If Karl I was destined to be unable to bear the heavy burden of the Habsburgs, then...
"Indeed."
Archduchess Maria responded softly, a trace of imperceptible coldness in her tone.
"Maximilian has lacked a strong role model since childhood... It seems he has found one now."
The noise on the stairs broke the enthusiastic atmosphere in the drawing-room. Hearing the sound, Maximilian hastily stood up.
"Mother... Your Highness..."
"Maximilian, you look much more spirited."
Crown Prince Georg walked down the stairs smiling. His gaze swept back and forth between Morin and Maximilian, finally resting on his young cousin.
"Y... yes, cousin! Colonel Morin told me many things about courage and responsibility."
"Oh? Courage and responsibility?"
Archduchess Maria walked up to her son, reaching out to adjust his slightly messy collar. Her movements were gentle, but her eyes were exceptionally sharp.
"That is exactly what you need the most right now, my child."
Her words seemed to carry a hidden meaning.
In this royal family, there was often deep meaning hidden behind every word.
"Since you hit it off so well..."
Crown Prince Georg interjected at the right time. He turned to Morin: "Lord Friedrich, we should be staying in Vienna for a few days. Why don't you spend more time with Maximilian these next few days, or take him to see the instruction unit's temporary camp?"
"I think for an 'Archduke,' there is no better teacher than a combat hero with rich practical experience."
Morin immediately stood at attention: "It is my honor, Your Highness... if Her Royal Highness the Archduchess and Archduke Eugen do not mind."
"Of course I don't mind!"
Before his mother could speak, Maximilian said eagerly.
Seeing her son like this, the last bit of hesitation in Archduchess Maria's heart vanished like smoke.
She smiled and nodded to Morin: "Then I leave him in your care, Colonel Morin. This child... indeed needs to learn to grow up."
After brief farewells, Morin followed Crown Prince Georg out of Augarten Palace.
The black car slowly drove out of the palace gates, leaving that tranquil residence behind.
Inside the car, the smile on Crown Prince Georg's face gradually faded, replaced by the grimness of a politician.
"Well done, Lord Friedrich, I wasn't wrong about you..."
"He is an innocent child, Your Highness."
Morin said mildly.
"Innocence is good... For someone of Maximilian's status, it's also a rare quality~"
Georg sighed. He looked at the fleeting night scenes of Vienna outside the window, pondering who knows what.
That night, the Hotel Sacher in Vienna was brightly lit.
To welcome Saxon Crown Prince Georg, and to commend those who rendered meritorious service in suppressing the coup, Field Marshal Conrad ultimately insisted on hosting a small-scale banquet.
Although due to the old Emperor's mental derangement, the scale of the banquet was deliberately controlled—not too many irrelevant people were invited, and no ball was arranged—everyone present was among the high military and political echelons currently controlling Vienna.
Morin, still wearing his military uniform bearing traces of combat, followed behind Crown Prince Georg and stepped into the banquet hall.
As soon as he entered, he felt many gazes shoot toward him in unison.
There was curiosity, scrutiny, and of course, mostly a complex kind of awe.
After all, most of the people here had been scared by the coup forces into hiding in their homes like quails just two days ago, or like Conrad, tied up directly in their offices shivering.
And it was precisely this young Saxon Colonel before them who fished them out of despair.
"Gentlemen!"
Field Marshal Conrad, holding a wine glass, walked to the center of the hall and tapped the side of his glass lightly.
Ding, ding, ding!
The crisp sound completely silenced the already not-so-noisy hall.
This Chief of the Army General Staff looked well today. Although there were still dark circles under his eyes, that confidence of holding absolute power had returned to his face.
"Today, we are here not only to welcome His Highness Georg from our fraternal nation."
Conrad's gaze swept the room, finally resting on Morin, an enthusiastic smile piling onto his face.
"But also to thank a hero... Without him and his brave soldiers, we might not be standing here enjoying fine wine today."
"Colonel Friedrich von Morin, please step forward."
Morin didn't know there was such a segment, but he still walked up to Conrad under everyone's gaze.
Conrad picked up a uniquely designed medal from a tray held by the adjutant behind him.
"In view of your outstanding contributions in suppressing the Vienna rebellion, upon the proposal of the Imperial Military, you are hereby awarded the 'Commander's Cross of the Order of Leopold'."
Although somewhat surprised, Morin allowed Conrad to pin the heavy medal onto his chest.
This medal carried extreme weight in the Austro-Hungarian honor system. It was divided into four classes: Knight, Commander, First Class, and Grand Cross, usually awarded only to senior generals or personnel with special merit.
For example, the real-life inspiration for the male lead in the movie The Sound of Music—Austro-Hungarian Adriatic submarine commander Georg von Trapp, who sank 13 ships during the war.
And what surprised Morin even more was that after pinning the medal on him, Field Marshal Conrad didn't step back, but picked up a pair of epaulets from the tray.
They were field officer epaulets of the Austro-Hungarian Army, the golden threads gleaming under the light.
"Furthermore!"
Field Marshal Conrad raised his voice, a solemn tone in his words: "Considering that the two armies will engage in deeper coordinated operations on the front lines, and to facilitate the command and communication of the frontline troops of both sides..."
"On behalf of the Austro-Hungarian Army, I officially confer upon Colonel Morin the honorary rank of Colonel in the Austro-Hungarian Army!"
Morin actually knew that in the world before his transmigration, there were historically quite a few Second Reich officers who were also granted military ranks and command authority in the Austro-Hungarian Empire...
Especially in the late stages of the Great War when the Austro-Hungarian army performed so poorly that the Germans had to teach them how to fight hand-in-hand.
It was just that in this world, this process seemed to have been greatly accelerated by his presence?
"Thank you for your trust, Your Excellency Field Marshal." Morin accepted the epaulets and saluted. "For the glory of Habsburg, for the friendship between Saxony and Austro-Hungary."
"To friendship!" Conrad raised his glass.
"To friendship!" All the officers present shouted in unison.
The atmosphere of the banquet reached its climax at this moment, but beneath this seemingly enthusiastic atmosphere, an undercurrent was also surging.
The day after Crown Prince Georg arrived in Vienna, the interior of the Austro-Hungarian Empire completely exploded over the issue of the old Emperor.
Although the Vienna side tried hard to block the news, claiming the Emperor was only startled and needed to recuperate in peace, there is no wall in the world that doesn't leak wind.
Those Magyar nobles in Budapest, who had long been restless, still smelled the power vacuum.
They began to clamor loudly in parliament, demanding to "clarify the facts." Some even hinted that if Vienna was unable to fulfill its duties, Hungary would "consider its own way out."
This was undoubtedly a blatant threat of secession.
Everyone also seemed to forget that the country was still in a state of war, and soldiers on the front lines were still fighting the enemy nation.
And Conrad and the others naturally did not want such a thing to happen.
They knew very well that once the Hungarians started making trouble, this cobbled-together empire would instantly disintegrate.
Therefore, they had to take advantage of this window period where the military controlled Vienna to cut the Gordian knot with a sharp knife.
And the first to go under the knife would be that unlucky Crown Prince, Karl I.