Chapter 716: The Debate About Australia

Ludengdaofu was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head.

"We can't hold it. Britain has at most two hundred thousand troops stationed in India, and they have to spread them across the region. The Sakura Country plus Lanfang have at least one million five hundred thousand men; attacked from east and west, India will inevitably be lost."

Tirpitz nodded. "Right. If India is lost, Britain in Asia will be finished completely."

They turned and looked at William II.

"Your Majesty, what I mean is—we can wait. Wait for Lanfang to take India, wait for the Sakura Country's main forces to be freed, wait for our allies to become stronger."

William II looked at them. "How long should we wait?"

"At the fastest, three months; at the longest, half a year."

"And after half a year?"

Tirpitz's voice was soft, but each word was as heavy as a stone.

"After half a year, Lanfang could dispatch several hundred thousand troops to support the European front."

The conference room fell into dead silence again.

Hundreds of thousands of Lanfang troops. The phrase was like a massive boulder pressing on everyone's mind.

Xingdengbao was the first to react. He looked at Tirpitz, and a sharp glint flashed in his murky eyes.

"Marshal Tirpitz, would Lanfang be willing to send troops to Europe to help us?"

Tirpitz nodded. "Yes."

"On what basis?" Xingdengbao's voice rose a notch. "Lanfang is half a world away from us, with no shared border, no direct conflict of interest. On what basis would they fight for us?"

Tirpitz looked at him, his gaze calm.

"Xingdengbao, do you still remember when Lanfang helped us transport the Sakura Country's troops for battle?"

Xingdengbao was taken aback.

"That's different. That was transport, logistical support. Now it's sending troops—hundreds of thousands of soldiers, crossing half the globe to Europe to bleed for us. Do you think Chen Feng would make such a loss‑making deal?"

Tirpitz was silent for a few seconds.

"Xingdengbao, you don't understand Chen Feng. He isn't the type who only focuses on immediate gains."

He walked to the map and pointed at Europe.

"Look, if the British lose, who would be happiest? Us. But if the British completely collapse, who would rise? Lanfang. Chen Feng understands better than anyone that letting Germany fall isn't beneficial to Lanfang. A multipolar world is what serves Lanfang's interests."

Xingdengbao shook his head.

"Tirpitz, you've only been in Lanfang for a few days and you've been brainwashed? Chen Feng is a politician, not a philanthropist. Every one of his decisions serves Lanfang's interests. Sending hundreds of thousands of soldiers to Europe—what's in it for Lanfang?"

"There is," Tirpitz said. "After the war."

"After the war?"

"Right. After the war." Tirpitz pointed at the map. "When the war ends, someone will need to rebuild Europe. Who will rebuild? Lanfang. They have industrial capacity, capital, goods. But if they don't take part in the war, they have no voice at the conference. In the post‑war division of benefits, they would get nothing."

He paused, his voice becoming softer.

"Xingdengbao, Chen Feng once told me a saying—'If not on the dining table, then on the menu.' Do you understand what that means?"

Xingdengbao was silent.

Tirpitz continued, "For Lanfang to become a world power, it must take part in world affairs. Sending troops to Europe is their token of commitment. After the war, they will sit at the head of the negotiating table with Britain, France, and Meilika, and redraw the world's map."

Ludengdaofu suddenly spoke. "Marshal, your intelligence says Chen Feng's next target is Australia."

Tirpitz nodded. "Right."

"Australia is such a vast land; does he not need to commit his main force?"

Tirpitz smiled. That kind of smile made Ludengdaofu feel uneasy.

"Ludengdaofu, have you ever been to Australia?"

Ludengdaofu shook his head.

"I have," Tirpitz said. "In 1910, as a representative of the German Navy, I visited Sydney. Australia is vast and sparsely populated; its area is about the same as Europe's, but its population is only five million. How many troops does Britain have stationed there? Less than fifty thousand."

He pointed at that huge landmass on the map.

"Fifty thousand garrison troops would have to defend the entire continent; they simply couldn't hold it. Lanfang would only need to commit thirty to fifty thousand men, land at a few key ports, and could occupy all of Australia. The rest would be mopping up the remnants—no need for hundreds of thousands of troops."

Xingdengbao stared at him. "You mean Chen Feng will shift his main force to India, then from India to Europe?"

Tirpitz nodded.

"After the Indian campaign ends, Lanfang and the Sakura Country's allied forces will have at least eight hundred thousand troops available for maneuver. Eight hundred thousand, plus our main force, is enough to drive the British‑French coalition into the sea."

The debate continued for an hour.

Xingdengbao insisted on not trusting the Italians, Tirpitz insisted on waiting for news from Lanfang, Ludengdaofu wavered between the two, and Betman listened silently, saying nothing.

William II sat in the head seat, listening to the arguments, his fingers lightly tapping the table.

He recalled three years ago, when the war had just broken out. Back then everyone said it would end before Christmas. Everyone said the German army was unbeatable. Everyone said the Allies couldn't hold out for more than six months.

Three years had passed.

Three Christmases had come and gone, and the war still raged. The German army truly was unbeaten, but the enemy had not been defeated. The Allies had indeed held out past six months, and they were still holding.

Three million German youths had died on the battlefield. In German cities, hungry crowds were everywhere. In German factories, workers were on strike. In the German treasury, there was no money left to pay soldiers' wages.

He needed a victory. A decisive victory.

Italy's defection was that opportunity.

But he also knew that Xingdengbao was right. The Italians truly were untrustworthy. Two years ago they betrayed once, a year ago they betrayed again. Who can guarantee they are sincere this time?

Outside the window, the sun gradually shifted westward. Sunlight streamed through the floor‑to‑ceiling window, casting long shadows on the floor.

William II finally spoke.

"Enough."

The conference room fell quiet. The four of them looked at him simultaneously.

William II stood up, walked to the map. He stared at the European continent, densely marked with red and blue pencil, for a long time.

Then Wilhelm II turned around and looked at Xingdengbao.

"Marshal, you go to Italy yourself."

Xingdengbao was startled for a moment: "Your Majesty?"

"Go and talk with Boseley. Discuss in detail and see how much sincerity they truly have," Wilhelm II said calmly, "Tell them that Deguo needs to see actions, not empty words."

Xingdengbao was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Your Majesty, what if they ask what actions we need?"

Wilhelm II thought for a moment.

"Make them produce a token of commitment. Declare war on Faguo, declare war on Yingguo—let their hands be stained with blood. Only then can we trust them."

Xingdengbao nodded.

"Also," Wilhelm II said, looking at Tirpitz, "on your side, keep in contact with Lanfang. Tell them Deguo needs to know their timetable. When they can take India, when they can send troops to Europe."

Tirpitz nodded: "Understood."

Wilhelm II walked back to his seat and sat down. He looked a little weary, but the light in his eyes remained.

"Dismiss the meeting. Xingdengbao, prepare yourself; we depart tomorrow."

The four of them stood up and filed out one after another.

Only Wilhelm II remained in the conference room.