What Kind of Spineless Government Would Agree to Such a Humiliating Treaty?

The diplomat left, taking Eitel's words back with him.

In the office, Rommel walked up to Eitel's desk. "Your Majesty, are we still going to this parliamentary session?"

Eitel leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed.

"Only a fool would go when their peace terms show so little sincerity."

"If they have a problem with that, let us settle it on the battlefield."

Hearing His Majesty Eitel's words, Rommel grew somewhat worried.

"But Your Majesty, our domestic grain reserves really are in serious trouble. At our current rate of consumption, the remaining grain may be completely exhausted in less than six months."

"And that is with us scrimping and saving."

Eitel did not answer Rommel's question directly. Instead, he opened his eyes.

"Haven't you noticed something?"

Eitel's words puzzled Rommel, who spoke without thinking further. "What is it, Your Majesty?"

Eitel looked at the peace document he had just torn up.

"They listed so many conditions, yet barely any of them concern what America stands to gain."

"In other words, they are not one solid slab of iron either."

"What if I showed these terms to the Americans?"

Eitel's words struck like a thunderclap, instantly straightening out every thread in Rommel's mind.

"Your Majesty, do you mean to...?"

Seeing understanding dawn on Rommel's face, Eitel nodded.

"Exactly. First, divide them from within, then see whether we can buy some grain from President Wilson."

"I imagine that with Britain and France treating America with such contempt, the Americans must be nursing some resentment too."

"When the time comes, the Americans will merely watch from the sidelines, and may even support us. Only if the war continues can he make a profit. War, war-in the end, it is a question of interests too."

Rommel nodded. "Your Majesty, I will draft a peace document and send it to the Americans at once."

Eitel nodded, then looked at Rommel with solemn eyes. "Summon everyone that diplomat met after arriving in the German Empire."

Hearing His Majesty Eitel's instructions, Rommel nodded and left the office.

Some time later, several men in suits and polished shoes entered Eitel's office one after another.

Once inside, they all looked nervously at the emperor.

They had received word almost as soon as the diplomat left, and now it seemed that the emperor had no friendly intentions.

Yet although they were all nervous, Eitel merely kept his eyes closed and ignored them.

Only after the last man arrived and Rommel closed the door did Eitel slowly open his eyes.

Eitel's gaze slowly swept from the first man to the last.

It was only a simple sweep of his gaze, yet they saw murderous intent in His Majesty Eitel's eyes, as though even the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees.

Nervously keeping their breathing as faint as possible, they all watched His Majesty Eitel before them, waiting for him to speak.

After looking them over, Eitel picked up a document from his desk. It was the latest peace document Rommel had just drafted.

Tossing the peace document in front of the men, Eitel said, "Take a look at what it says, leaders of the Social Democratic Party."

The instant he saw the document, cold sweat began streaming down one of the leaders' foreheads.

"Your Majesty, what is this?" A capable-looking man among them picked the document up from the floor, puzzlement on his face.

Eitel looked at him and recognized him. So this was Mr. Philipp Scheidemann. He had seen his photograph while investigating the members of the Social Democratic Party.

Before Eitel could think any further, Philipp's face turned ashen after reading the document, and the hand holding it trembled slightly.

"How dare they!"

"Your Majesty, surely you haven't agreed to terms like these?"

With that, Philipp fixed His Majesty Eitel with a fierce gaze. "Your Majesty, I ask you to rescind your order. Forgive my bluntness, but whoever signs this treaty will have his hand rot off!"

"We of the German Empire will never accept such a humiliating treaty."

Watching Philipp, Eitel nodded and sat upright.

"Yes, I cannot understand it either."

"I truly cannot understand what kind of spineless government would agree to such humiliating demands!"

At that, Eitel slammed his hand onto the desk, his gaze stabbing like a knife toward the Social Democratic Party leader trying desperately to shrink behind the others.

"Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Friedrich Ebert?"

This time, before Eitel could do anything, Philipp and the others who had read the document instantly turned their fierce gazes on the Social Democratic Party leader, whose legs had already gone weak.

Facing so many gazes that seemed ready to swallow him alive and strip off his skin, Ebert could only curse himself for having been so bewitched that he had agreed to the diplomat's request.

Ebert opened his mouth to say something, but did not know what to say.

After a long while, Ebert lowered his head dejectedly. "I am sorry, Your Majesty. I lost my senses. And to all of you as well."

Ebert turned toward his friends in the Social Democratic Party. "I should not have agreed to that diplomat's request. I have failed the expectations of Germany's people. I will resign as leader of the Social Democratic Party."

At that, Ebert's shoulders slumped.

Only then did Eitel withdraw his gaze and wave a hand. "Rommel, take this former leader of the Social Democratic Party away. The Reichstag will subsequently prosecute him for treason."

"Save your words of repentance for prison, Ebert."

Hearing Eitel's orders, Rommel nodded and clapped his hands. The two soldiers stationed outside the door came in and dragged the once-illustrious leader of the Social Democratic Party out like a dead dog.

Throughout this, he did not resist at all.

He had lost this time. As a proud German, he chose to accept his fate.

At the moment he was dragged through the doorway, Ebert raised his head with a trace of hope. "Your Majesty, I was wrong this time, but I believe the war should end, for the German Empire, for the people of Germany."

Only after his voice faded did the remaining men in the room look at His Majesty Eitel, their faces full of guilt.

"Your Majesty, we are sorry."

Eitel looked at the men before him, his eyes sharp. "Do you think the same way?"

Faced with Eitel's question, a trace of resolve appeared in the eyes of the Social Democratic Party leaders who had previously been firmly opposed to the war.

"If these are their demands, then we support you."

"For the sake of the great German Empire, we will never accept such demands."

"Even if we must fight to the very last moment, we will shed our last drop of blood and never let those jackals of the Allies humiliate our motherland."