When someone gets in your way—hit them first.
Crude as it sounded, it was an idea that, more often than not, held true in 19th-century international politics.
In modern times, it is widely acknowledged that if one traces back the origins of many global upheavals of the era, the British Empire is almost always somewhere in the picture.
And this isn't bias speaking just because I happen to belong to that empire.
There was a reason Britain stood at the center of so many incidents.
In an age where national interest took absolute precedence over morality or conscience, the strongest power inevitably became the axis around which everything turned.
That said, even the British Empire did not simply throw punches without understanding the situation.
Greece was precisely such a case.
No one could quite grasp what this absurd little country thought it was doing, so for now we limited ourselves to blockading its ports and applying pressure.
Even then, we had expected some sort of reaction.
Instead—
there was nothing.
Silence, as though the country were dead.
"Could they be waiting for the Russian fleet to come to their aid?"
It was a genuine question, but Admiral William Parker only shook his head, as if he had just heard something utterly ridiculous.
"No matter how foolish they are, they can't possibly be that delusional."
"…Or perhaps that very delusion is why they sided with Russia in the first place."
I wasn't entirely convinced myself.
But wars—even in this era—were not always driven by rational judgment.
Even in the World Wars, far more recent than this, how many absurd decisions and blunders had been made?
From that perspective, it seemed far more likely that Greece had already lost its grip on reality.
And, as if to confirm that suspicion—
Greek forces opened fire on our fleet at Piraeus.
"Admiral! The Greeks have fired first!"
"These lunatics… Return fire immediately!"
There was no need for elaborate explanation.
A country that could not even properly field wooden warships had no chance of resisting the British fleet, armed with ironclads and steam-powered vessels.
Even if Admiral Yi Sun-sin or Lord Nelson were reborn and commanded the Greek side—while I led ours—the result would remain unchanged.
The disparity was that overwhelming.
As if to carve that truth into their bones, Parker conducted a systematic and merciless bombardment of Greek ports.
Piraeus—effectively one with Athens—was reduced to ruin, rendered unusable as a harbor for the foreseeable future.
Every vessel floating in the harbor was shattered beyond recognition.
All nearby facilities were destroyed.
Shipyards were annihilated.
For a time, not even a fishing boat could be found along the coast.
Unsatisfied, Parker went further—sailing around the peninsula and destroying every Greek ship and port he could find.
Naturally, no Russian reinforcements ever came.
Greek reinforcements did.
But what could a few thousand infantry accomplish without a navy?
When Greek soldiers—far inland—attempted to fire muskets at our ships in retaliation, Parker simply closed his eyes.
At that point, it felt embarrassing to even call this a war.
Only after things had deteriorated this far did the Greek council finally send envoys, begging for peace.
"We have no intention—none whatsoever—of fighting the British Empire! Truly!"
"Then why did you side with Russia and attack the Ottomans?"
"That is… His Majesty accepted Russia's request to help reclaim Greece's former territories…"
"Are you joking? Accepting Russia's request is the same as declaring war on us."
"…His Majesty believed that while Britain fought Russia, we could fight only the Ottomans…"
The longer the explanation went on, the more incredulous Parker's expression became.
I had suspected as much—
but hearing it confirmed was something else entirely.
Then again, even in later history, there were those mad enough to fight on multiple fronts simultaneously.
At least Greece had only intended to fight the Ottomans.
Still, failing to realize that their territory lay directly along our route to the Black Sea…
that was astonishing.
"Did your king believe Greece was a landlocked country? If we ignored you and sailed on, we would be leaving an enemy force in our rear."
"…We have no words."
"To put it simply, we have no desire to waste time here. If you want peace, accept our terms. Do that, and the Royal Navy will cease its blockade."
While Parker commanded the fleet, treaty authority ultimately rested with me.
That meant we could conclude provisional agreements on the spot, without waiting for London.
Parliament would need to approve it later, of course—but rejection was unlikely.
"First, all territories you have occupied must be returned to the Ottomans."
"…Yes."
"Second, you will compensate us for the resources and time wasted due to this conflict."
"…We have no objection."
"And third, we will establish naval bases in several of your remaining functional ports."
The temporary base at Gallipoli would revert to the Ottomans after the war.
We needed a long-term foothold to contain Russia.
In that sense, Greece—through its own foolishness—had provided the perfect justification.
"In our ports… British naval bases…"
Before I could continue, Parker leaned forward sharply.
"This is the bare minimum. The so-called compensation merely covers what we've already lost."
"…Quite so. Accept these terms, and we guarantee no further hostilities from the British Empire."
Silence.
In truth, there was never a real choice.
The only decision Greece had was whether to nod firmly—or weakly.
Refusal would mean losing every coastal city.
"…We accept. All of it."
"Thank you. Then let us proceed with the agreement. You will sign on behalf of the council—and obtain His Majesty's signature afterward."
"…About that… we would appreciate a little time regarding His Majesty's approval…"
The sentence trailed off, but the meaning was clear.
The man's dark circles alone told the story of the chaos within their government.
Strictly speaking, this was our first victory of the war.
Yet instead of triumph—
I felt something closer to pity.
Greece had gained nothing.
Its ports lay in ruins.
Its navy was shattered.
All captured territory was lost.
Reparations were owed.
And now, British naval bases would stand on its shores.
What, exactly, had they believed in when they chose this war?
I wanted to ask.
But as I watched the council chairman stagger away like a living corpse, the words refused to come.
It wasn't often one felt pity for a politician.
And yet—
the Kingdom of Greece had managed it.
Impressive, in its own way.
And Russia… who had gone to such lengths to draw in an ally like this—
just what were they thinking?
***
Northeast Asia
In Northeast Asia, Joseon was not the only country suddenly facing Russia across its borders.
Japan, too, found itself indirectly confronting the empire.
Sakhalin Island—lying between the Strait of Tartary and the Sea of Okhotsk—
had, until recently, been contested by Russia, Qing, and Japan alike.
But with Russia securing the Maritime Province, Qing influence had all but vanished.
Now, only Japan and Russia remained, locked in a quiet standoff.
Neither fully controlled the island.
Each maintained only scattered coastal settlements.
There was a reason for that.
Japan was already stretched thin managing Hokkaido and the Kuril Islands.
Russia, too, had its limits.
But as Russia stabilized its hold over the mainland and turned its attention toward Sakhalin, Japan could no longer remain passive.
If Russia secured the island, Hokkaido and the Kurils would fall within its reach.
Thus, the shogunate—having agreed to Britain's request to join the war—decided to seize the opportunity.
"Britain's navy will devastate Russia's coasts. That means they won't be able to reinforce Karafuto."
"Indeed. And Russia will be forced to focus on Joseon, where they share a direct border."
Whether Joseon could actually threaten Russia was irrelevant.
If Japan didn't know—
Russia didn't either.
"If we merely supply materials, it will look like we are bowing to Britain. That would weaken our position against Satsuma and Chōshū. We need tangible gains."
"Agreed. Only then will they hesitate to challenge the shogunate."
"…No. They should challenge us. That gives us justification to crush them."
The real goal was to make the other daimyōs wary.
Resources would be extracted from them—but if the shogunate achieved a decisive victory in Karafuto, everything would change.
Defeating Russia—the very power that had humbled Qing—
would elevate the shogunate to unprecedented prestige.
Since Toyotomi Hideyoshi's failed campaigns centuries ago, Japan had avoided major foreign wars.
Now, an opportunity had come to erase that humiliation.
"We don't need much. A few thousand men will suffice. I will petition the Emperor for approval. At the same time, prepare to strike Russian settlements in Karafuto."
"Yes, sir. Then… the declaration of war—"
"…Declaration?"
Tokugawa Ieyoshi tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
"Is that really necessary?"
After all—
who announces a punch before throwing it?
If one wished to strike hardest, one struck from behind.
The Imperial forces would grant the enemy no time to prepare.
And soon after—
with imperial approval secured,
Japan's war against Russia was decided.
A surprise attack—
without declaration—
and the occupation of Karafuto
were all set into motion.