Stopping a war with a single meal was unquestionably something worthy of praise.
But in the eyes of the British and the French, this was far too terrifying. The Austrian Empire's conquest of Spain seemed already set in stone; it was not merely a matter of military conquest—even the basic organizational framework of the government had already been built.
If they attacked Spain now, they would instead fall into passivity, and in the end, be mired in the mud.
Britain and France did not have many generals who felt they could occupy all of Spain as swiftly as the Austrians had.
And now, those in Spain were not only Spaniards, but Austrians as well.
Did continuing to attack Spain truly still have any meaning? Rather than attacking Spain, it would be better to attack the Austrian homeland.
But that existed only in the minds of a few radicals; after all, the idea was far too insane.
Attacking the Austrian Empire's homeland was even more like declaring war on the entire Holy Alliance. One had to know that Franz was currently acting under the banner of the Holy Alliance.
In Spain, the armies of the Holy Alliance nations were merely going through the motions, and Austria turned one eye open and one eye shut, but if the Austrian Empire's homeland came under attack, then the scene would probably be entirely different.
And how to attack the Austrian Empire's homeland was another problem.
London, Whitehall.
John Russell slowly set down the intelligence in his hand. He rubbed his sore, swollen eyes; having been appointed in a time of crisis, he had not closed his eyes for a week.
John Russell had reviewed all the action logs and intelligence from the Earl of Derby's time, but everything—everything indicated that matters were developing in