Russia may have collapsed,
but that didn't mean it had ceased to be a threat to the British Empire.
History had proven time and again that as long as a nation retained its fundamental strength, it could rise again at any moment, unless it was crushed beyond recovery.
Anyone could see that just by looking at Germany, which had set the world ablaze twice.
Russia was no different.
For now, it was still stuck in a pre modern state, a bloated giant.
But if it ever managed to properly modernize, the story would change completely.
Who was to say something similar—but not identical—to the Soviet Union of the original timeline wouldn't emerge from it?
We had stomped them down this time, so we likely had a few decades of breathing room.
But beyond that—
No one could say.
The same went for the American continent.
In fact, America was the region I paid the most attention to.
Because of one thing:
The United States—the strongest future contender capable of challenging Britain's global dominance.
Still, during this war, Russia had been the priority.
I hadn't had the luxury of paying much attention to the war between the United States and Mexico.
And honestly—
Even if I had, what difference would it have made?
Mexico beating the United States was never a realistic outcome.
Unless Britain was willing to intervene directly and go to war with America, there was no reason to get involved.
Even within Britain, most people saw it as a conflict between second-rate and third-rate nations.
All attention had been focused on the Crimean War.
Frankly, if I were European, I'd think the same.
If Son Goku and Vegeta were locked in a life-or-death battle—
who would care if Krillin and Yamcha were fighting on the side?
At most, you'd laugh and say, "What are those guys even doing?"
"…Prime Minister. Don't tell me the United States and Mexico are still fighting?"
"…You didn't know?"
"Well… I assumed it would already be over."
In the original timeline, the Mexican–American War had lasted around two years.
Considering that, it might just now be entering its final stages.
Logically speaking, even if the United States was still a "wannabe great power," it shouldn't struggle against a third-rate nation like Mexico.
But judging by Wellesley's expression—
Something had gone wrong.
Don't look at me like that. This is making me uneasy.
"…Let me ask just in case. The United States didn't lose to Mexico, did it?"
"No, nothing that extreme. If that had happened, we'd be beyond shocked. However… the American advance has been slower than expected, and they've been encountering resistance on multiple fronts."
"…Why?"
The difference in power between the two nations was obvious.
Unless something major had intervened, there was no reason for the United States to struggle like this.
Could it be because of me?
As Wellesley opened his mouth to explain, I quickly raised a hand to stop him.
"No, wait. Whatever it is—do I really have to handle it? Can't Parliament deal with it?"
Whether America and Mexico tore each other apart or not—
Surely this was something the British government could handle without dragging me into it.
I had just returned from years of hardship.
Was it really fair to throw me straight back across the Atlantic?
"I understand how you feel, Your Highness," Wellesley said carefully, "but this situation involves authority that overlaps beyond what I can handle alone."
"What issue could possibly exceed both Parliament and the Prime Minister's authority—"
"Canada."
"…What?"
"You hold full authority over Canada, Your Highness."
Canada?
Why was Canada suddenly involved?
As far as I knew, Canada had already signed an agreement with the United States.
At first, they had sold weapons freely to both sides—
but eventually, they agreed to stop supplying Mexico after the U.S. bought out the remaining stock.
So Canada shouldn't have been involved anymore.
And unless Mexico had completely lost its mind, it wouldn't attack Canada just for weapons.
"I know what you're thinking," Wellesley said, handing me a report. "But you need to read this to understand the situation."
"No. Absolutely not. I'm staying here with my children. If I go back to America now, Victoria will kill me. No—before that, will you survive? She might dissolve Parliament out of sheer rage!"
This was prime bonding time with Alfred.
No way I was getting dragged away again.
"…Whether you cross the Atlantic is your decision," Wellesley said calmly. "But at least read it. This requires your judgment."
At that point, I couldn't refuse anymore.
With a heavy sigh, I took the report.
Let's see just how ridiculous this is.
As I skimmed through it—
It confirmed what Charles said.
The American advance had slowed due to unexpected Mexican resistance.
Not enough to turn the tide—
but enough to prevent a swift, overwhelming victory.
However—
What caught my attention was the cause.
"…What is this? Is this real?"
"We're still verifying it, but it appears to be."
"Canadian weapons… flowing into Mexico? In large quantities? Even after exports were restricted?"
It didn't make sense.
But in a capitalist society—
Money had a way of making the impossible possible.
And this massive explosion in the Americas?
At its core—
It was born from one simple human desire:
To make more money.
Flashback — The American Continent, During the War
At the start of the war, the United States had expected a swift victory.
But almost immediately, they encountered problems.
First—
Mexico had been more prepared than expected.
They may have been called lazy—
but they weren't stupid.
After being invaded once before under absurd pretenses, they had learned their lesson.
They had reinforced their troops and stockpiled weapons.
With California already lost to Canada, they only needed to defend New Mexico and Arizona.
And thanks to the weapons they had purchased from Canada early on—
They could actually put up a fight.
Of course, at sea, the difference in power was overwhelming.
Ports like Veracruz were devastated.
But that had been expected.
What wasn't expected—
was Mexico's resilience.
"Fight! Drive out the American invaders!"
"Even if we die, every enemy we take with us is worth it! We will not become a colony!"
From the American perspective, it was absurd.
They had no intention of turning Mexico into a colony.
But for the Mexicans—
This was a holy war.
A war of survival.
And that belief had been carefully cultivated by one man:
Santa Anna.
He had spread the message relentlessly—
That the United States intended to annex Mexico completely.
Even as villages were destroyed.
Even as ports burned.
Even as people died—
The will to resist only grew stronger.
But in modern warfare—
Courage alone wasn't enough.
"We need weapons! We can't fight them with what we have!"
"If we had comparable arms, we could at least stall them!"
"We had Canadian weapons before!"
"They're almost gone! Without resupply, we'll be pushed back!"
"Canada won't sell to us anymore… they have an agreement with the United States."
"Damn those American bastards!"
Morale was high.
But without weapons—
Defeat was inevitable.
And then—
As if from nowhere—
A lifeline appeared.
"…If we could supply weapons, would you be willing to buy them?"
"…What?"
"Of course. We don't want the United States growing any stronger either."
Spain.
The once-great empire.
Now a faded power watching from the sidelines.
Unlike the other European nations, Spain had stayed out of the Crimean War—
and had been carefully observing events in the Americas.
At first, they had expected Mexico to collapse quickly.
But Mexico had held on.
Not well—
but enough.
And that was enough.
After about a year of observation, Spain made its move.
Mexico didn't trust Spain.
They had been its former oppressor.
But—
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Compared to the United States, which was actively trying to crush them—
Spain was the lesser evil.
"…The Americans have recently begun making moves toward Cuba," the Spanish envoy said. "If Mexico falls, Cuba will be next."
"That sounds exactly like them. But how will you supply weapons? From Europe?"
"That would be inefficient. And it would provoke the Americans. Instead—we'll source them from Canada."
Cuba was wealthy.
Extremely wealthy.
With its resources and trade networks, it had more than enough capital to purchase weapons from Canada.
"…So you'll buy Canadian weapons and resell them to us at a higher price?"
"Of course. We deserve compensation for our efforts."
"…We don't have that kind of money."
"Oh? Mexico has plenty of silver mines, doesn't it? Mining rights will suffice."
"…Damn it… Fine."
Canadian weapons were superior.
Rifles.
Artillery.
Ammunition.
With those—
Mexico could fight.
And so—
An absurd alliance was formed.
Spain bought weapons from Canada.
Smuggled them through Cuba.
And funneled them into Mexico.
Canada, unaware of the full picture, simply kept its factories running—
selling weapons as requested.
And just like that—
The exhausted Mexican resistance found new life.
"Drive them back!"
"We have British weapons now! Fight!"
The butterfly had flapped its wings.
And the storm had arrived.
"…What the hell? Why are they fighting harder all of a sudden?"
"They were weakening before—was that just a feint?"
"General! The newly deployed Mexican troops are armed with British weapons! We've confirmed it from captured equipment!"
"…Impossible. That should've been exhausted already… Unless—"
Of course.
It all made sense now.
Those bastards in Canada—
They had been selling weapons through the backdoor.
The American commanders, filled with fury, immediately sent an urgent report to Washington D.C.
The truth—
Had been uncovered.