From the era of Philip II until this year of 1643, the kingdoms of Spain and Portugal have been ruled by a single monarch as a single nation. Their overseas colonies span every continent save Oceania, and their maritime hegemony remains formidable.
In later years, the English would boast that Elizabeth had broken this mighty empire, but that was nothing more than propaganda. As the Anglo-American world eventually seized global hegemony, that propaganda spread across the globe until it was mistaken for the absolute truth.
The reality was far less dramatic and significantly less clear-cut.
While England was certainly a nuisance to Spain, it was never a truly vital opponent. The collapse of Spain as a superpower did not occur with the cinematic flair of a Hollywood movie; rather, it was a slow, agonizing decay rooted in structural flaws within Spanish society that stretched across centuries. This meant that while Spain was difficult to revitalize through the brilliance of a single monarch, it was equally resilient against the incompetence of one.
Spain remained strong. Even now, they traversed the world’s oceans, searching for new avenues of glory.
Philip IV was a monarch who presided over the peak of this Spanish might, and his favorite, the Count-Duke of Olivares, struggled valiantly as his chief minister to resist the creeping rot of decline. Together, they endeavored to reorganize the empire under a powerful, centralized system while simultaneously fighting to suppress the Protestant and anti-Habsburg forces that threatened them globally.
However, the relentless cycle of warfare drained their treasury, and the very reforms intended to centralize power incited fierce resistance and sparked rebellions across their territories. In my original history, this led to the dissolution of the union with Portugal, the wavering of their hold on Italy, and the rapid exhaustion of their finances. Olivares was ousted to shoulder the blame, and Philip IV eventually died without ever reversing the manifest destiny of Spain’s decline.
But in a world where a certain grape farmer arrived in the Americas, the history of this colonial empire twisted into something entirely different.
When their hegemony in the Americas began to falter due to the rise of the Continental Covenant, the Spanish abandoned all other reforms to focus entirely on the control and defense of their American colonies. Paradoxically, this choice lightened the empire’s burdens elsewhere. Instead of igniting a war of independence, Portugal continued its cooperation with Spain. Southern Italy, too, offered little resistance to Spanish rule.
In this ‘Seventeen Years’ War’—one where France remained on the sidelines—Spain managed to conserve its strength. Even the Church, which had once obstructed reform to keep the empire in check, began to adopt a humble posture toward one of the few remaining Catholic superpowers as the empire itself teetered. Furthermore, as silver ran dry across Europe, the continent turned its desperate eyes toward Spain, the only place where the precious metal still flowed.
Spain was recovering from the scars of war with surprising speed.
Of course, they had lost much. Primarily, they had lost the Southern Netherlands, a core colony. It was a loss akin to having one’s heart ripped out. With a population in the hundreds of thousands and highly developed industries and finances, the Southern Netherlands had contributed as much to the royal tax revenue as the Americas themselves.
Moreover, the House of Habsburg had utterly lost its dominance in Central Europe. They were forced to watch, paralyzed, as the entirety of the German territories fell into the hands of Protestant forces. As the struggle against the Protestants and anti-Habsburg factions wound down, the reality of their lost European hegemony stared them in the face. They were losing their status as the undisputed strongest power.
It wouldn’t happen overnight, but a slow, inevitable death was waiting for them. And Philip IV had no intention of simply letting it happen.
He could not wage a war to restore the Holy Roman Empire alone; if he tried, France would surely intervene, and the French were no longer an opponent Spain could easily threaten. There was little left to be done within Europe. If any possibility remained, it lay beyond the European borders.
***
“Is there no more precise information to be had?”
“Regrettably… no, there is not.”
Unbelievable.
My Order, which I had cultivated with such painstaking care—even going so far as to plagiarize the ‘Leap’—had yet to successfully infiltrate the inner sanctums of Spain. It was both shocking and impressive. It seemed the capabilities of a global empire were not built on sand. According to the educational comics I used to read, Spain should have been a paper tiger by now, ready to collapse if I so much as flicked it with a finger.
Damn those Anglo-American historians. They added so much fabrication and exaggeration to glorify their ancestors that a well-meaning transmigrator like me has to pay the price in blood.
What was that? “England, having crushed the Invincible Armada, seized control of the Atlantic”? “England proved the superiority of a free society over Spain’s closed, bureaucratic one”? What a load of rubbish. What’s so free about an England that wouldn’t even let a Jew across its borders?
Just you wait. The moment the Continental Covenant seizes global hegemony and develops trans-dimensional technology, I’ll host a grand festival for a million transmigrators and personally twist those historians’ legs until they cry for mercy.
“To obtain truly critical information, we must penetrate the closed society of the Spanish court,” Gershom reported, his voice tinged with frustration. “But that is no easy feat.”
In truth, even the England of Elizabeth’s era—which supposedly made its mark on the history of global espionage (a claim I now suspect, given the authors were all British or American)—was repeatedly outmaneuvered by Spain. I find myself questioning if I can do any better. Without entering the inner circle—a web woven from faith, bloodlines, and ancient relationships—it is impossible to know the core secrets of the Spanish state. We even tried sending ‘operatives’ to raid the vaults of high officials once, and they nearly blundered into a counter-intelligence trap that almost wiped out our local branch of the Order.
I’ve been humiliated more than a few times. Spain is not an opponent to be trifled with.
“However,” Gershom continued, “the flow of funds from the American colonies back to the Spanish mainland is definitely suspicious.”
The colonies were a bit looser. Through the rumors gathered by our intelligence officers, I could piece together a general sense of Spain’s movements.
Truly, within a few years, Spain will come. War is imminent. It will finally arrive. After nearly twenty years of talking about it, the conflict is truly at our doorstep. And the problem… was not just that.
As I left the cabinet meeting, I noticed Gershom, the first Prime Minister of the State of Israel, quietly following me. I nodded, and Gershom closed the distance to whisper in my ear.
“Yes, My Lord. The Europeans fleeing the war have brought news that has left the citizens of various member states trembling with anxiety.”
The Order must remain an independent organization, strictly separated from the Continental Covenant. It would be strange for an organization following the grand cause of ‘serving humanity’ to be tied solely to the national interests of a single country. Of course, since I am the head of both the Covenant and the Order, the distinction might be functionally meaningless, but the process was still necessary.
The Order’s reports had to be delivered to me independently through Gershom, as the representative of the members, before any other Covenant personnel learned of them—even if I chose to share that information immediately afterward.
The fact that members of the Order were now spread throughout the Covenant meant that our intelligence network across our territories was rock-solid. Thanks to this, Gershom could report on the public sentiment and trends in areas of the Covenant I might otherwise overlook.
…And right now, that sentiment was grim. Even the people of the Covenant, who were usually isolated from the outside world, felt a sense of impending crisis.
“Strangely, the greatest anxiety isn’t in Virginia or Wabenaki, where the immigrants first arrive,” Gershom noted.
“It’s likely the Bishopric of Florida and the Mississippi River basin,” I interjected.
“How… how did you know?”
Because those are the regions where the Spanish invasion will most likely begin. Florida is the most populated land outside of Virginia and has the most cultivated acreage, making it the territory Spain will most desperately want to reclaim. They didn’t invest all that money in those lands for nothing. Similarly, the Mississippi River basin is fertile, and though its population density plummeted due to the long-standing plague, it is now being settled by countless immigrants. It is also vulnerable to attacks from the Caribbean.
In the end, if war breaks out, those regions will be the primary targets, whether the attack comes from the Spanish mainland or the colonial forces themselves. According to Gershom, they weren’t the only ones afraid. From Virginia and California to the Mainline Republic—which would suffer greatly if the enemy marched north by land—anxiety and a sense of crisis were spreading through every member state that shared a border, or even the possibility of one, with Spain. Vigilance is rising, and the people are shrinking back. The citizens are beginning to look to the leadership for a solution.
If we fail to handle this properly, our leadership will be put to the test.
Oitotan is currently the Chairman of the Continental Congress, and he holds the authority to convene the cabinet. I need to contact him immediately… I need a good idea to suggest to him…
Is there one?
“Um, is something wrong? You seemed lost in thought, so I didn’t want to interrupt, but…”
“Gershom.”
“Yes, My Lord?”
“Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you.”
I quietly informed Gershom of the idea I had formulated.
Flinch.
For a fleeting second, I saw Gershom’s composure break, his face contorting in surprise. Hmm, I should only whisper this idea to Oitotan. He’s the type who will enjoy it.
After parting with Gershom, I walked straight toward the White Castle. I headed for the office of the Grand Master of the Agricultural Order, the place where Oitotan felt most comfortable. As expected, he was there. When I shared my ‘good idea’ with him, his eyes went wide before beginning to sparkle with excitement.
“It feels a bit wrong to say this, but that’s a rather childish idea,” Oitotan remarked.
“And? What do you think?”
“Let’s do it immediately.”
I knew you’d like it.
***
“The Construction of the Great White Fleet.”
“Symbolically, I hereby declare that we shall construct a fleet of steel ships with hulls painted entirely in white,” Oitotan announced to the assembled cabinet members, tapping the large letters written on the parchment.
“Against the Spanish threat, we shall build a fleet made of steel. Their frail wooden ships will be crushed by the solidity and power of our fleet, collapsing in an instant.”
“Ah… what a daring plan!”
“And timely as well. Oitotan, I agree,” Eleanor Dare chimed in. “This will surely provide a sense of security to the citizens of our various member states.”
Thomas Hewitt nodded in agreement, and the other cabinet ministers followed suit. None of them believed the Spanish army would truly march thousands of kilometers from Mexico City to the heart of the Covenant. For the Spanish to inflict any meaningful damage on such a vast continent, maritime maneuvers were essential. Therefore, a fleet capable of defending our long coastline was mandatory.
“We shall showcase this massive fleet of steel ships to our citizens to demonstrate the strength of our Covenant and awaken their national pride! By making it known that the weak Spanish forces cannot set foot on our territory, we shall provide them the stability they need to continue their livelihoods!” Oitotan exclaimed, rising with fervor. “And we shall do it within three months!”
Several ministers even broke into applause. Oitotan paused for a moment, basking in the appreciation.
“Um… excuse me.”
Someone raised a hand, requesting the floor. Oitotan gave a curt nod. It was the Admiral of the Navy, a Floridian of Liberian descent. As the successor to Vicente, all eyes turned toward him.
“Do… do we actually have a way to construct such a magnificent fleet in such a short time? I fear our steel production alone will be insufficient…”
Oitotan shook his head in mock pity, glancing toward Kim Lee-sang. When I gave him a slight nod, Oitotan spoke in a booming voice.
“Do you truly not understand? Sometimes, the ones who truly need a display of strength are not the enemy, but our own allies.”
“Those are wise words, but what does that have to do—”
“Take every boat we have—workboats, fishing boats, whatever—paint them all white, and launch them anew.”
“Oh, and be sure to mount some cannons on them,” Oitotan added. “They need to at least look like warships, after all.”
While the faces of several ministers—particularly Eleanor and Hewitt—turned grave, Oitotan continued with a smirk. “Wouldn’t it be magnificent to see a swarm of white ships coming at you? We’ll send them on a coastal patrol. Why are you all being so slow on the uptake?”
Oitotan cleared his throat. “I hereby designate my previous statement as a classified matter. Duration: indefinite.”
As a nation led by transmigrators from the future, the Continental Covenant was always at the vanguard of progress. And this time, they had invented the modern naval review.
It’s a decent idea, isn’t it?
“Manteo, are you serious?”
The technique of setting up fake weapons and putting on a show was also a first of its kind.