The German army achieved a resounding victory in France, severely damaging the Anglo-French coalition and capturing the French capital of Paris. This, undoubtedly, plunged the entire German Empire into a frenzy of celebration. Yet, at the same time, there were those whose hearts remained far from joyous.
One such individual was the retired former Chief of the General Staff of the Imperial German Army, Moltke.
During his tenure as Chief of Staff, Moltke had personally commanded the battle on the Western Front. More arrogantly, he had modified the Schlieffen Plan, believing he could correct what he perceived as its many flaws. However, once the war broke out, he realized that the altered Schlieffen Plan, so far from achieving success, was incapable of fulfilling its original objectives.
In the end, the German Army suffered heavy losses on the Western Front. While they did inflict significant damage to the Anglo-French forces and seized large portions of northern France, they failed to achieve their primary strategic goal—capturing Paris and forcing France out of the war. This failure plunged Germany into the perilous quagmire of a protracted war. In Germany's situation, once caught in a war of attrition, victory became an exceedingly distant prospect. Thus, Germany had to avoid such a scenario at all costs.
Of course, this was not entirely Moltke's fault. While he bore the lion's share of responsibility, others were also culpable. For instance, Emperor Wilhelm II and the generals on the front lines had a role to play. Had it not been for Wilhelm II's blind and impractical demands, or for the front-line commanders' refusal to heed Moltke's orders, perhaps the outcome might have been different.
However, it was too late to dwell on such things now. Moltke had been dismissed from his post and retired from active service. This, without a doubt, was a humiliation for Moltke. His uncle, the elder Moltke, had been the victorious Chief of Staff during the wars of German unification. Moltke had always believed that, with his talents, he could surpass his uncle and achieve even greater accomplishments. He never anticipated such a crushing failure.
Upon hearing of the German victory and the fall of Paris, Moltke sat in his office, silent for a long time. His posture, as he gazed out of the window, seemed heavy with solitude and desolation.
"Is it truly my lack of ability?" he mused, his face twisted with jealousy. "Why did that Oscar fellow succeed so easily, while I faltered?"
Indeed, Moltke's envy of Qin Tian knew no bounds. He resented what he saw as Qin Tian's extraordinary luck. Despite being the Crown Prince, Qin Tian, in his early twenties, had managed to build an empire from nothing, winning the loyalty of both the Imperial Army and Navy. Such accomplishments were almost beyond comprehension.
Initially, Moltke had no personal enmity toward Qin Tian. However, his long-standing friendship with Crown Prince Wilhelm II made him antagonistic toward Qin Tian after the latter ascended to the position of heir. Moltke's consistent efforts to undermine Qin Tian only deepened the rift between them.
Ultimately, their rivalry ended in Moltke's failure.
"It seems that man's position is unassailable now," Moltke sighed. "The throne is undoubtedly his. Even Wilhelm II may no longer be able to challenge his claim to the succession."
Though he was deeply resentful, Moltke found himself at an impasse. There seemed to be no other path forward.
Equally displeased was General Prittwitz of the Imperial Guard. Before the war, he had hoped to contest Qin Tian for the position of Commander of the 8th Army Corps. However, Emperor Wilhelm II had instead transferred him, creating space for Qin Tian to take the role. This, unsurprisingly, left Prittwitz seething with discontent. Despite Qin Tian's status as Crown Prince, Prittwitz harbored deep resentment for the man who had usurped his position—especially after the 8th Army Corps achieved victory after victory on the Eastern Front. Prittwitz couldn't help but envy the glory that was now Qin Tian's.
In his delusion, Prittwitz believed that had he been the one to command the 8th Army Corps, he too could have led the corps to such glorious triumphs. With such victories, he might have even been promoted to Field Marshal. For this reason, he regarded Qin Tian as his bitter enemy.
In the aftermath, Prittwitz had allied with Moltke in a futile attempt to bring down Qin Tian. But as with Moltke, he too had failed.
Now, Prittwitz remained a mere General in the Imperial Guard, with no prospect of advancement. After Moltke's dismissal, his hopes of promotion had all but evaporated. It seemed that his current position—merely retained through luck—was all he could hope for. The personal ties he once enjoyed with Emperor Wilhelm II had also grown cold, leaving Prittwitz deeply dissatisfied.
"Damn that man," Prittwitz fumed. "Now he's won another victory. In the eyes of the German people and the military, he's become akin to a god. Who could possibly oppose him now? Am I to simply watch as he steadily ascends to become Emperor of the Empire? Where does that leave me? Perhaps my only fate is dismissal…"
Prittwitz's mind was a storm of frustration. His obsession with power and his relentless ambition to climb higher had become all-consuming. Anyone who stood in his way, no matter how high-born, was his enemy.
"General, someone wishes to see you," the adjutant suddenly entered and reported.
"I'm not available," Prittwitz snapped, his voice curt. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to entertain visitors.
"Really? General Prittwitz, you won't even see me?" a voice interrupted.
Prittwitz looked up in surprise, before his face quickly broke into a smile. "Ah, Prince Friedrich, what brings you to the Imperial Guard?"
The visitor was Prince Eitel Friedrich, the second son of Emperor Wilhelm II.
"General, I've come because someone wishes to meet you. I've been sent to personally invite you," Prince Eitel Friedrich explained.
"Who wishes to meet me?" Prittwitz asked, somewhat confused.
"You'll find out soon enough," the prince replied with a mysterious smile.
"Very well, Your Highness," Prittwitz nodded.
After changing into civilian clothes, Prittwitz accompanied Prince Eitel Friedrich and left the Imperial Guard headquarters. They took a car directly to a manor in Potsdam. Prittwitz stayed there for two hours, and when he left, his face was beaming with a smile.