In the chill of early spring, yellow fluff drifted through the air.

The mature fruits of the French sycamores burst open, releasing dark yellow tufts that floated like snow, accumulating in clusters in corners or drifting through the air. Charles sat in his command office, sipping coffee as he gazed out the window.

Charles didn't care much for the sycamore fluff. Though romantic in appearance, it was relentless, working its way into clothes, eyes, and noses, impossible to guard against. Throughout Paris, these trees lined the streets, making it nearly impossible to escape them in May.

Given the circumstances, Charles preferred staying in his office to review files.

Meanwhile, Tijani, accustomed to this season, was out on the training grounds as usual, working with the soldiers. Recently, a few "Charles A1" tanks had been transferred from the tank brigade, adding armored coordination to their drills, much to Tijani's delight.

Two knocks on the door. After receiving permission, a guard entered to report, "General, General Winter requests to see you. He's currently at the base gate."

The police training base was a secure military facility, and without authorization, no one—not even General Winter—could enter.

Charles was surprised; wasn't Winter supposed to be leading the campaign at Gallipoli?

But Charles didn't hesitate, nodding as he ordered, "Let him in."

"Yes, General."

Soon, General Winter was standing before Charles.

Winter warmly approached him, shaking his hand and giving him a pat on the shoulder, his gaze falling on Charles's rank insignia. "Look at you, already a Brigadier General!"

"General," Charles replied, "if you're here to ask if I can break the stalemate at Gallipoli, I'm sorry, but I can't help."

"I know, Charles," Winter said with a smile, shaking his head. "I've realized that Gallipoli is like an extension of the Western Front. If you could break the stalemate there, you could break it on the Western Front as well."

Winter sighed. "You've always been right. We never should have attacked Gallipoli. The First Lord made a mistake in ignoring your advice, leading us into this quagmire."

Once a battle begins, it's not easy to end, even when many know it's the wrong course.

Questions linger: Is there still a chance of victory?

Will the First Lord keep his promise to serve on the front lines as a soldier?

And what would be the consequences of admitting defeat and fully withdrawing?

(Note: The First Lord of the Admiralty did indeed keep his promise to fight at the front after the Gallipoli debacle. However, he served only briefly—less than a month—and not on the front lines. Ironically, this experience later became a political asset, allowing him to present himself as a politician who had "seen combat.")

"We can't withdraw at this time," General Winter said with conviction. "Not now."

Charles looked at him in confusion. If they knew the path was wrong, wasn't it better to end it sooner?

"Let me remind you, General," Charles said, pouring a cup of instant coffee for Winter. "Spring is nearly over. Soon, the intense heat of summer will set in, along with the rainy season in Gallipoli. Then we'll face disease, epidemics, and supply difficulties."

Combat would inevitably leave corpses exposed in the wilderness, unable to be buried. The coastal summer heat and humidity would quickly cause them to rot, spreading disease.

In history, the Gallipoli campaign had been abandoned largely due to the outbreak of disease.

"I know," Winter nodded. "But this time is critical."

Charles misunderstood. "You have a new battle plan?"

He assumed Winter and his team were planning one last effort.

Winter took a sip of his coffee, shook his head, and replied, "It's about Italy. We're trying to get them to join us."

Charles immediately understood. To draw Italy, a neutral power, into the Allied camp, they couldn't afford any defeats.

Not only could they not afford defeat, but they needed a victory…

Realizing this, Charles looked at Winter in surprise. "That's why you're here?"

Winter chuckled. "Nothing gets past you. Yes, we hope you can lead a battle—a highly visible victory. We all believe you're the only one who can pull it off."

Ever since Charles's success at Gallipoli, even the First Lord of the Admiralty had come to trust him implicitly.

Winter explained further, "That's why I came personally. The fewer people who know about this, the better. I haven't informed anyone in the French military, not even General Galliéni."

Charles paused, then asked, "So this battle… only victory is allowed, correct?"

"You could say that," Winter nodded. "If we lose, it might cement Italy's decision to side with the Central Powers. Persuading them would become even harder, likely at a greater cost."

Charles replied, "Then you need to inform the French military."

"What do you mean?" Winter asked, puzzled.

"You may have some information about the Germans," Charles said. "They've developed new aircraft and tanks."

"Yes," Winter nodded.

Winter's intelligence came from MI6, while Charles's source was "The White Lady."

"That's all I know," Charles continued. "Do you have more details? Like the speed and weaponry of the new aircraft, or the armor thickness and firepower of the new tanks?"

"No, we don't," Winter admitted.

MI6 wasn't all-knowing.

Charles spread his hands. "Then you need to tell the French military."

Seeing Winter's lingering confusion, Charles added, "Schneider recently developed a new tank, and they're eager to showcase it."

Winter's eyes lit up with realization. "You're saying the French military will deploy Schneider's new tanks?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Charles replied. "Schneider has been trying to prove his tanks are superior to mine. Besides, if his tanks don't get a chance to show their worth, they won't secure further orders. So…"

"So they'll seize this opportunity!" Winter exclaimed, grasping Charles's logic. "And if their tanks go into battle, it'll draw out the Germans' new tanks and planes, giving you time to prepare!"

Charles nodded. "This is a battle where victory is the only option. I can only fight it if I'm prepared."

Winter smiled knowingly. Was Charles doing this for personal gain or for the greater good?

For the greater good, it certainly increased their chances of success.

For personal gain, it also allowed him to undermine his competition.

But, in the end, did it really matter?

As long as it served Britain's interests, that was all that counted.

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