Tsar Nicholas was growing impatient.
At the outbreak of the war, he had easily overwhelmed the Ottomans and basked in the might of the Russian Empire.
There was no greater sense of superiority than seeing a once-formidable rival reduced to something pitiful.
Former Foreign Minister Karl Nesselrode had confidently declared that Britain was in no condition to wage war, leaving Russia with nothing to fear.
The plan had been simple and flawless:
Crush the Ottomans swiftly, then reach a suitable compromise with France, which had been making noise on the sidelines.
France might strut about like a major power, but on its own, it would never dare declare war on Russia.
That had been the logic.
Then Britain intervened—and the entire board collapsed.
Even so, at first, Tsar Nicholas had been confident.
The Black Sea was practically Russia's backyard. No matter how powerful Britain claimed to be, he believed this was one place they could hold their own.
After all, at the Battle of Sinop, hadn't they achieved an unprecedented exchange ratio—practically annihilating the Ottoman fleet?
If they were that strong, then surely, with the support of coastal batteries, they could stand against the Royal Navy.
That was why he had confidently ordered Admiral Pavel Nakhimov to defend Odessa.
And yet—it was Russian ships that ended up as fish food.
Once naval supremacy was lost, bombardments rained down without pause, and the capital descended into chaos as reports poured in daily.
"Your Majesty! Enemy fleets have appeared once again near Saint Petersburg! Nearby cities are under attack!"
"Your Majesty! Local commanders are urgently requesting that supplies from the ports in the Sea of Azov be delivered to the army! We must retake the Azov!"
"Your Majesty! Five of our transport ships attempting to move supplies through the Black Sea have been captured by the British!"
Damn it.
What exactly was he supposed to do with reports like these?
No matter how formidable the British fleet was, as long as he concentrated forces in the capital, a direct landing here would be impossible.
Which meant—
As unfortunate as it was for the surrounding cities, there was no capacity to save them.
If they wanted safety, they could come to the capital.
Cold as it sounded, it was the only viable choice.
If he dispersed forces to defend other regions and weakened the capital, what would happen if the British fleet struck at that very moment?
Perhaps that was precisely what they wanted.
Russia's forces were already stretched thin across multiple fronts—splitting them further was out of the question.
"There are only two regions we can afford to concentrate our forces on: the capital—and Sevastopol in Crimea. If possible, we push back the Ottomans in the Caucasus. Everything else… must be abandoned."
"Your Majesty…"
The officials' faces darkened.
But none of them had a better solution.
Russia's territory was vast beyond measure, and responding effectively to simultaneous conflicts across it was nearly impossible.
Choosing what to defend—and committing fully—was the only rational course.
So the Emperor endured.
Even as the Grand Duchy of Finland was reduced to ruin… even as Helsinki became a wasteland.
He endured.
Even as the shipyards of the Åland Islands—built with blood and effort—were rendered useless.
He endured… waiting for the moment to strike back.
And then—
News arrived from the far east that shattered his restraint.
"Your Majesty… Korea and Japan are attacking Primorye."
"…What? Who is attacking where?"
"Korea and Japan… In particular, Japan launched an assault on Sakhalin without even declaring war. It is said they executed the soldiers without accepting surrender."
What…?
Had the flood of bad news finally driven him to hallucination?
A delayed declaration of war, perhaps—but launching an outright invasion of Russian territory?
Those yellow nations of Asia?
"…Where is the declaration of war?"
"Korea delivered theirs promptly. Japan declared war after launching the attack, claiming severe weather delayed their ships…"
"What kind of nonsense is that?!"
Even when Helsinki had fallen, he had not been this enraged.
That, at least, had been the work of Britain—the world's strongest naval power.
But Japan? Korea?
Weren't they the same nations that had once begged Britain for protection out of fear of Russia?
And now—having secured their safety—they stabbed Russia in the back the moment war broke out?
"Even if our forces are stretched thin, are you telling me the garrison in Primorye cannot defeat Korea or Japan?"
"That is… Japan launched a surprise attack and seized Sakhalin…"
"Even so, we have forces in Vladivostok!"
"Yes, Your Majesty. However, Acting Commander Gennady reports that they cannot lower their guard, as the British Asian fleet could strike Vladivostok at any moment."
"What about the East Siberian forces? There should be at least some troops there."
Were they truly at the point of scraping together soldiers from the depths of Siberia?
It was absurd—but anything available had to be used.
Even in the midst of war, prioritizing pride over pragmatism might seem foolish—
But Russia had always been a nation sustained by its pride.
The great Russian Empire—struck first and having its territory seized by insignificant Asian nations?
If left unanswered, it would erode the Emperor's authority long after the war ended.
"The East Siberian forces are small in number, but… they do exist."
"I don't care if they're from Siberia or elsewhere. Any units not directly engaged at the front—redeploy them east to Primorye. Those insolent nations must be crushed, no matter the cost."
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty. It shall be done."
So this was what came of showing restraint.
Now even insignificant states dared to bare their teeth.
They had chosen the wrong target.
The Russian Empire would not tolerate provocation from lesser powers.
Pragmatism mattered—but pride was no less important.
Russia could never accept the stain of being the only European power to lose territory to Asian nations.
The Emperor's gaze burned with fury as he stared toward the distant eastern lands—four islands and a lone peninsula.
Things were going well—too well, in fact.
I had expected progress, but with everything falling into place like this, it was almost unsettling.
Prussia, which had promised a swift response, formally declared its entry into the war.
Even faster than Austria, which had been expected to join first.
With that, operations in the Baltic gained even greater momentum.
At this rate, it might not be long before we saw the Russian Emperor abandoning his capital and fleeing east.
With both Prussia and Austria signaling their participation, the atmosphere at the Crimean headquarters noticeably relaxed.
At this pace, we might not even need to rush.
Let Russia choke slowly—and they might open the gates themselves.
If Prussian and Austrian forces, backed by the Royal Navy, advanced northward, could Russia really keep committing its strength to Crimea?
They would have no choice but to redirect troops to defend the capital.
And the moment that happened, Sevastopol's fate would be sealed.
This was the inevitable end of a great power that had neglected diplomacy and believed only in its own strength.
No matter how powerful an army was—if surrounded by enemies, something would eventually break.
Even a superpower like the United States in the 21st century wouldn't behave so recklessly.
For Russia—still below Britain's level—this situation meant only one outcome: slow suffocation.
That said, this alone wouldn't end the war.
Russia was not a country that collapsed easily.
Even if its economy crumbled, it would endure.
Even if soldiers died, it would simply send more.
Even in defeat, it might choose to drag everyone down with it.
If Nicholas did not die early, Russia might continue throwing men into the fire regardless of the cost.
Which meant—
Complacency was dangerous.
***
"Admiral Parker."
"Yes, Your Highness."
While the army traded blows around Sevastopol, the Royal Navy reported nothing but victories.
Whoever controlled the seas controlled the war.
William Parker's face was filled with unmistakable confidence.
"In the Black Sea and Azov, aside from cutting off supply lines, there's little left to do. Would it not be better to focus more heavily on the Baltic?"
"That would certainly agitate the Russians further. But what of Asia? This must be a severe blow to their pride."
"I've instructed the Governor in Shanghai to commend both the Shogunate and Joseon, and to continue encouraging them. If things go well, they might even seize Vladivostok."
Even if they couldn't hold it, it would be invaluable leverage in negotiations.
"In that case, I'll issue orders for the Asian fleet to take a more active role. If we coordinate with the Pacific, we can ensure Russia cannot even look east."
"Good. I'll continue discussions with Prussia as well. It seems they're seriously considering striking the capital."
According to the ambassador's telegram, Prussia's representative was none other than Otto von Bismarck.
If he was leading negotiations, then this intervention likely bore his personal imprint.
Better to understand his intentions now.
He might be a valuable long-term ally—but his goal was always Prussia's rise.
Assuming he would always act in our favor would be a mistake.
Just as I rose to send instructions to open communications with Prussia—
"Your Highness! Urgent news from Asia! There has been a clash in Primorye!"
"…A clash? Did Russia really move that quickly against Joseon and Japan?"
That shouldn't have been possible.
Given Russia's lack of railways and telegraph infrastructure, they likely had only just received news of Sakhalin.
Which meant—
"Reports indicate that Qing forces near Manchuria, seeing Russia in disarray, advanced to reclaim Primorye—but collided with Joseon and Japanese forces already operating in the area."
So the Qing, eager for revenge after losing Primorye, had seized the opportunity—
Only to run headfirst into Joseon and Japan.
A three-way clash on Russian soil.
Just what kind of chaos was unfolding in Asia?
And the fact that all of them had moved with the same idea at the same time—
It was almost ridiculous.
A quiet chuckle escaped me.
But with the sudden emergence of the Qing as a variable, my thoughts began racing.
Come to think of it, the one region that consistently defied my expectations in this war—
Was Asia.
As always… the East was a world unto itself.