“Regulations,” Friedrich said. “The Prussian army and its regulations.” His voice hardened. “They
spent more effort measuring the length of a Soldatenzopf than studying how wars are now
fought. Those same sacred regulations are why so many of our comrades lie dead, and why
the fatherland is trampled by French boots.”

He turned fully toward von Werne, his eyes burning.

“I give a damn about their regulations. We will act as honor and reason demand. With orders
or without them, this is Prussia, and we are Prussians. We remain true to our land and our
people. And I swear to God, the next powdered-wig officer who lectures me on regulations
while the enemy marches through our villages – I will put a ball between his eyes.”

Prussia still believed in certainty.

It believed that wars were won by straight lines, measured steps, and the unyielding obedience of men who did not question why they marched – only how. It believed that discipline, perfected under Frederick the Great, was an inheritance no enemy could steal. That belief had endured decades of peace, surviving unchanged while the world beyond its borders burned, reformed, and reinvented itself.

Across Europe, something new was moving.

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