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South American Empire

Reborn at the beginning of the 19 century, Felipe witnessed Napoleon's rise and fall and the revolution of South America. Knowing the future, he secured the title of the crown prince of an empire that never existed and a fortune compared to the Rothschilds'. A peaceful and knowledgeable man driven to be a ruthless dictator. He was given a chance to leave a mark on history and will do anything to make that happen now. The story is set in the early 19th century. There will be slaves, and there will be ruthless behaviour and just basically the law of the jungle. For better contact with moi: https://discord.gg/TssBq7D5Vh I started this book to force myself to finish a story. Anyways, you have been warned, not adapted for modern audiences. I will be inconsistent af and try to maintain a chapter length of 1400-1600. Please comment with constructive criticism with paragraph comments. Civil wars, politics, kingdom management, Ruthless MC, Gore, Slavery, Morally Questionable Mc.

Well_In_a_Frog · ย้อนยุค
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85 Chs

Playing Chess While Everyone is Playing Checkers

"The crown prince has made waves across the international stage and has made tsunamis in the empire." The general looks at the reactions of the Emperor very closely. He is looking for any displeasure signs.

"Yes indeed." The Emperor showed no signs on his face that could lead to an accurate reading. But he is indeed very happy about it after all; what father would not be happy that their son succeeded before adulthood?

However, the Emperor was too accustomed to such news of his son succeeding. It let him maintain calm when a such thing happened.

"I am not trying to be disrespectful, but I have heard rumours of the Crown Prince spiralling down into a cruel dictator," Simon said as he looked at the Emperor sternly. He remembers 11 years ago how the same man, much younger swore to him to create an empire where the common faults of an empire are managed.

The Emperor just smiled and waited a bit to open his mouth again. "Dictator, yes. A Cruel one, no. I am afraid the rumours that you claim to hear are quite incorrect. After all, I have personally sent my what you call them… guardians… no, spies, to ensure he is not going overboard."

"Yet I hear tales of how he threw the heads of respectable family members of Venezuela into a plaza. Please tell me what that is not but cruel?" Bolivar asked as he took a sip of coffee.

The whole room would only be comfortable by modern standards. The air is stagnant, showing the lack of architectural planning and enough dust to make it seem as if the air somehow has a whitish mucus membrane.

"Traitors, you mean. All the members who died in the insurrection were considered treasonous. I would have given a sentence of death myself, though I would not use his methods of execution. But they would be dead anyways." The Emperor explained.

"…"

Bolivar didn't say anything.

"And so, what will Bolivia's king do now? If I am not wrong, you are planning to return to your natal land, where my son is the current dictator, while in a state of emergency." The Emperor understood they were speaking in a passive-aggressive but not in a cruel way.

"Indeed, I plan to return to Caracas as I dismantle the Imperial campaign," Bolivar explained. "Even if I have a kingdom, I still have Caracas in my heart. You would understand, I presume?"

Bolivar could completely crush the Spaniards on land with an 80-thousand-strong army. That army was consistent, with 60 alone being from the Colombian Empire alone, meaning 20 thousand came from the region of Venezuela and the rest hailed from the rest of the Empire.

The other 20 thousand came from Peru, Bolivia, and Chile due to the alliance similar to NATO in the future timeline but way more intrusive and imperialistic.

Of the 20 thousand hailing from Venezuela, 17 785 have returned home alive. It was a long campaign of almost seven years of constant war; they can be considered professional soldiers now. Though 5 thousand soldiers decided to stay in Bolivia, so the commander united his most loyal men and gave them land there.

If such a colossal army were to rebel against the Empire, the central powers of the Empire would not be able to do anything but give the Gran Duchy of Venezuela its independence because even so, the rest of the army is 37 thousand strong, the military is now returning to every single region of the Colombian Empire.

Another war would be catastrophic to the Empire's treasury, so such an outcome must be avoided.

"Law dictates that we can obtain the position of dictator for one-year maximum or until the crisis ends." The Emperor explained. "Does your travel to Caracas impose my son's deposition as a dictator?"

"…" Bolivar hesitated to do anything before accommodating himself on the chair once again.

"Many of the soldiers that went to fight for the Empire have obtained the news that their sons, fathers, brothers or friends have died… rather slaughtered under the sword of the crown prince at the battle of Meta. After all, it is weird to see that a battle of those proportions ever ended that way. Not even the battle of waterloo saw such a ratio of deaths."

The Emperor nodded. He has been thinking about what to do with Bolivar, he has gotten too powerful for his comfort, but his son likes him. Bolivar is not politically sharp; his skills lie in cheering troops and strategies, not ploys and negotiations.

"What does your army want?" The Emperor asked as he was curious, "Give independence to the Gran Duchy of Venezuela after so much bloodshed?"

"No no, of course, no. They want justice and a proper explanation for the high ratio of deaths. After all, it is one of the first occurrences where two identical armies completely neutralize themselves, excuse me, but even I am skeptical." The General said with a dignified tone and posture. Bolivar is an avid supporter of imperialism. Even though his resolve for its waves, it is now back firm as before.

He believes the only way they can compete with other countries around the world is if they unite under one nation.

The Emperor smiled but said nothing before drinking a sip of imported coffee.

"The battle of Meta has been discovered under the guidance of the crown prince. All the soldiers accounted for 23 thousand and 459 half-eaten skeletons. We are trying to transport the remains from the battle back to their place of birth for their final rest.

"And please have your facts right, General. There was no equal fight; General Paez fought against my son with 13 troops, while my son fought with 10 thousand troops. It is a miracle that he survived, let alone won. Well, as my son says, no one wins in a war. There is only one that loses less." The Emperor, in the beginning, was not so letting his heir go to war. Still, after seeing the mighty 10 thousand soldiers under his command, the Emperor allowed him to go.

After hearing the news of such a close encounter with the death of his son, he felt like a father that has failed, but at the same time, he could not blame himself after all. His son then went and took over a country with 25 other soldiers. Death allures him, and his son doesn't get tired of luring death.

All in all, his son being his son, solved the whole problem in no time, very costly but swiftly, which in the end, is what matters, or it would have been way more expensive than the loss of 23 thousand lives.

"…" Bolivar thought for a while, but nothing came to mind, only showing his immaturity in the pollical stage.

"He also told me to relay a message… he is waiting for you that he has more important things to do than going through pillars of paperwork daily." The Emperor smiled, "he claims that he has done enough to make Venezuela work as long as it follows his instructions and that the soldiers coming back are needed to be workforce which they require much of it."

Bolivar was surprised. After all, he understands the crown prince more than anyone. His admiration for that kid only grows by the year, especially after showing his skills in the war, in which he was a master. He understood that the crown prince was always hungry for power and, more than anything, control. So it was weird for him for the crown prince to relinquish his position as dictator.

"Surprised?" The Emperor asked, smiling.

"Yes, somewhat." Bolivar expressed his emotions and looked at the Emperor with a surprised face.

"He explains that the moment you come back to Caracas, he will have no power over the Grand Duchy, that when you arrive, any possibilities of revolution would be extinguished; thus, the problem of the Grand Duchy would be solved, officially relieving himself from the position of dictator." The Emperor explained furtherly.

"I see." The impression of the crown prince is always going against his arguments. But to his credit, he was mostly right, leaving Bolivar thinking if the crown prince was aggressive or if he was just right about everything.

"Moreover, he intends to create industries in Venezuela. He created a machine to let a person get hundreds of stitches in just a few seconds. It will create jobs for manufacturing and seamstress as there is a need for an operator. I have seen it myself with my own eyes. This will change the world just like the matches changed it." The Emperor said confidently that Bolivar of trust. He could feel it.

"…" Bolivar was once again silent.

"My son explains this will create an economic upturn in the region of the Ecuador, Peru and much more. Plus, with cheap cotton from the USA, we will be able to create a prominent market of textiles in the Empire." The Emperor explained furtherly. "He plans to make the factories in the Grand Duchy of Venezuela as it is where there are deposits of Iron Ore."

Bolivar understood something at that moment. The crown prince was thinking about the whole Empire while thinking about kingdoms and grand duchies. In other words, he was playing chess, and the crown prince was playing checkers.

Author still sick. *Sniff sniff.*

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