Artillery howled

October 1918, the defensive line along the Meuse River.

The night was as dark as ink. Layer upon layer of cloud and mist shrouded the sky, and darkness blanketed the entire land.

Across from the Meuse River Line, flashes of fire flickered from time to time, and ponderous shells came howling toward them with destructive force.

In a German command post not far from the Meuse River Line, Lu Chen—or rather, His Highness Eitel Friedrich, second prince of the German Empire—stood silently before a table, a huge map spread out before him.

Several scarlet arrows stabbed toward the defensive line where he stood, like a sharp knife plunging savagely into his heart.

"Your Highness."

A general with an Iron Cross on his chest handed Eitel an intelligence report. Eitel took it and slapped it onto the table.

"General Konstantin, please explain the current situation along the Meuse River to everyone."

Konstantin nodded and pointed at the map on the table. Every general in the command post followed his finger, looking at the map marked with several Allied attack routes.

"The forces currently attacking our Meuse River-Argonne defensive line are America's First Army and France's Fourth and Fifth Armies."

"The enemy currently has approximately four hundred and fifty thousand troops committed to the offensive. We have only eighty thousand troops belonging to the Fifth Army."

"With the defensive line we have established along the Meuse River-Argonne, all we can do now is attempt to hold firm..."

Konstantin incisively laid out the current situation in the command post and specified their defensive strategy. Eitel nodded as he watched Konstantin work, then raised his head and surveyed the generals around him. They were all renowned German generals from the First World War.

General Max von Gallwitz.

General Georg von der Marwitz.

And Corps Commander Hermann von Strantz.

As Eitel looked at these generals, a trace of helplessness flashed in his eyes. When General Konstantin had received his transfer orders earlier, Eitel had overridden every objection to keep him here. Though he had countless elite soldiers and capable generals under his command, they could not conceal the German army's exhaustion.

A month had passed since he transmigrated here, and he had gradually adjusted to his current identity and life in the army. Even with his doctorate in history from his previous life, he could not turn back the raging tide in a situation like this. Historically, Germany had been worn down in both world wars. Under the Allied blockade, food could hardly be brought into the country, and there were also the workers' uprisings that would soon sweep across the nation.

Supplies for the troops at the front kept failing to arrive, and the soldiers' morale sank lower with each passing day.

The recent news that the crown prince had withdrawn from the front had also shaken the morale of the generals present and the soldiers. Fortunately, he had volunteered to come to the Meuse River defensive line to steady the troops.

Otherwise, the Meuse River-Argonne defensive line would have been teetering on the brink, and the painstakingly established Hindenburg Line would have been destroyed in an instant.

Boom!

A violent explosion interrupted Eitel's thoughts. The sturdy command post rocked precariously under the impact of a massive shell, and dust rained steadily from the ceiling.

"Your Highness! Look out!"

At that moment, several generals tackled Eitel and pinned him beneath them, shielding him firmly with their broad bodies.

Once the shaking stopped, the generals stood up. Without even taking the time to brush the dust off themselves, they looked anxiously at Prince Eitel.

Seeing the concerned gazes the generals present directed at him, Eitel waved a hand. "I'm fine. Where were we?"

Konstantin brushed the dust off himself, trying to make himself look a little more presentable.

"Your Highness, we were discussing the total of twenty-seven hundred light and heavy guns the Allied forces have deployed against the Meuse River Line."

Konstantin's words exploded in Eitel's heart. Not only were their troop numbers vastly unequal, but the enemy also had nearly twice their heavy firepower.

In a battle like this, perhaps holding firm really was their only option.

Thinking of the Treaty of Versailles that Germany would soon sign after its defeat, Eitel tugged at his hair in frustration.

"Damn it! Aren't terms like those driving the German people to their deaths?"

"Urgent report from headquarters!"

"Read it."

Eitel waved impatiently, signaling for the telegraph operator to read the telegram.

After all, the situation had already deteriorated this far. Even if there was more bad news, it could hardly get much worse.

The telegraph operator glanced hesitantly at the telegram in his hand, then made up his mind and read it aloud.

"The emperor of the German Empire, Wilhelm II, has announced his abdication at frontline headquarters on the Belgian defensive line."

Hearing the telegram's contents, Eitel's already bent back gave way completely. Overwhelmed by a rush of anguish, his vision went black, and he fainted.

"Your Highness!"

Though the generals present were equally despairing, the moment Eitel fell, they all rushed forward to catch the unconscious prince.

In his haze, Eitel seemed to hear something. When he opened his eyes again, Konstantin stood beside him, his gaze fixed on the map on the table.

The other generals had already returned to their respective defensive lines to prepare for the Allied offensive.

"Konstantin..."

Eitel struggled to rise from his chair, his fingers still trembling a little as they touched its armrest.

"My father... His Majesty the Emperor... how is he now?"

As Konstantin looked at the unsteady Eitel before him, a trace of sorrow flashed in his eyes.

"His Majesty... is already on his way to the Netherlands, accompanied by the crown prince."

Hearing this news, the corner of Eitel's mouth twitched, and he sank back down helplessly.

Had it all come back to this ending after all?

If only I could have transmigrated here a little earlier.

Konstantin looked at Eitel, unable to quite bear it, and spoke softly. "Your Highness, perhaps you should also follow His Majesty to the Netherlands for refuge."

"We will hold the front. I swear in the name of Prussia that the Meuse River Line will not collapse before Your Highness has withdrawn safely."

Eitel looked at the weather-beaten old general before him. Already in his fifties, the man was looking at him with unwavering resolve.

"Retreat?"

Listening to Konstantin's loyal, concerned words, a trace of conflict flashed in Eitel's eyes. Was he simply to seek refuge in the Netherlands? Having come to this vast, tumultuous age, was he to do nothing and flee in disgrace like a dog that had lost its home?

He could not do it.

"No..."

Just as Eitel was about to refuse, an interface suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[National focus slots ×1]

[Available national focuses: German Emperor Principle (gray) Reorganize Parliament (gray) Hold the Defensive Line (gray)]

[Become the de facto ruler of the German Empire to unlock the national focus slot]

"Is this... my golden finger...?"

Eitel looked at the transparent interface before him, somewhat surprised.

"Your Highness, please make your decision soon."

Konstantin repeated himself once more beside him.

But this time, looking at the devoted general before him, Eitel spoke with ironclad resolve. "As the second prince of the German Empire."

"I will never cling to life in disgrace. Telegraph the entire nation: tomorrow, I will ascend the throne at the front!"

"I will live or die with the German Empire!"