Holy Roman Empire

In the 19th century, those who could study abroad were naturally not ordinary people. These diploma mills were designed to exploit such individuals, so the costs were by no means low.

On the surface, the tuition seemed cheaper, but additional services all came with fees. In the end, the total expenses often exceeded those of legitimate universities.

Morse had clearly been scammed. Austria’s regular universities never lacked students. At most, they recruited from the German region. Who would go out of their way to recruit in Mexico?

Not even during the reign of Maximilian I did Austria extend such privileges, so it was even less likely now. The high tuition fees for Austrian foreign students primarily stemmed from the fact that the Ministry of Education did not allocate funding for them.

It wasn’t that Franz didn’t understand the importance of cultivating international students, it was simply that the timing wasn’t right. On one hand, the costs were too high; on the other, Austria had no intention of training future competitors.

This wasn’t unique to Austria. Most European colonial empires followed similar policies, typically only admitting students from Europe. It wasn’t that they were blind to the benefits of training international students; they just didn’t see it as worthwhile.

In the original timeline, Americans educated international students to upset the global balance while the Japanese did so for their own strategic goals…

For now, Austria prefers recruiting students from German-speaking regions. This was partly to foster pro-Austrian sentiment, but more importantly, many of these students eventually stayed in Austria.

This differentiated treatment was essentially a way to win hearts and minds.

For international students like Morse—a passionate young man from Mexico—there was a high chance he would eventually return to Mexico.

The Austrian government naturally wasn’t willing to spend big to train talent for other countries. Otherwise, the so-called Austrian Army and Navy Advanced Command Academy wouldn’t have dared to scam him.

In truth, it wasn’t exactly a scam. Austria’s education system was still tightly regulated, and even diploma mills were places where some knowledge could be learned.

After graduation, while one might not achieve great success, one would at least have enough credentials to impress others back home. Otherwise, these lecturers wouldn’t be known as “renowned scholars” in society.

The school hired them primarily because they were skilled at boasting. Whether what they said was accurate or not, it was usually good enough to fool ordinary people.

While these individuals might seem unimpressive, their misfortune was being born in the wrong place. If they had lived in the United States, many of them would likely have become congressmen, maybe even climbed their way to the presidency.

Their success generally stemmed from two key traits: being able to talk their way through anything and having no scruples.

The circle of international students was relatively small, and it wasn’t easy to meet fellow countrymen in a foreign land. Through social gatherings, Morse had made quite a few acquaintances and even joined the Mexican International Student Mutual Aid Association.

Now that he understood the situation, it was only natural for him to seek help from them.

…

“Mr. Morse, many people have experienced situations like yours. Studying in Austria is not easy, and admission to regular universities is highly competitive.

Even if you passed the initial test before coming to Austria, it doesn’t guarantee admission; it only qualifies you to sit for the entrance exam.

In reality, the probability of passing the entrance exam on the first attempt is less than 10%. Most students need to study in Austria for several years before earning a spot at a university.

The vast majority of international students end up enrolling in vocational institutions. The Austrian Army and Navy Advanced Command Academy you’re attending now is also a vocational institution, though it ranks relatively low.

You now have two options: either continue your studies until graduation or self-study and reapply to an Austrian regular university.

These universities have no age restrictions for international applicants, but the costs are significant. Each application requires a registration fee of 500 guilders.

Each institution has its own application schedule, so theoretically, you could apply to all 137 regular universities in Austria at the same time,” explained Brian Haig.

After hearing this, Morse was silent for a while before asking, “Isn’t this just extortion? Why is the registration fee so high?”

Brian Haig nodded helplessly, “That’s right, it’s extortion! The schools don’t take us seriously. To them, we’re just a flock of cash cows.

If you don’t want to take the exams, you can pay a direct admission fee of 30,000 to 100,000 guilders to enroll. Generally, liberal arts programs are cheaper, while science, engineering, and military academies cost more.”

There was no helping it; reality was just that harsh. Austria had implemented compulsory education for over two decades, producing over a million candidates annually competing for 50,000–60,000 spots. The quality of local applicants was guaranteed.

As for international students, their abilities varied widely. The top performers could match Austria’s best students, while the weaker ones were rejected even by the higher-ranking vocational schools.

Top students are naturally welcomed, and free admission isn’t unheard of. Even after graduation, the Austrian government might make efforts to retain them. On the other hand, underperforming students not only fail to contribute but also risk damaging the school’s reputation aside from the revenue they generate.

Geniuses are always a minority and most people are average. While most students study hard, their ultimate success largely depends on the educational environment.

Morse complained, “Damn it, with so few slots for international students, why can’t we take the same entrance exams as locals?”

Brian Haig didn’t answer, fearing he might upset Morse. It wasn’t uncommon for international students to try and obtain residency to qualify for local entrance exams. However, the outcome of most of these attempts was disastrous.

Others had been studying under Austria’s system for over a decade so how could one expect to match them with a last-minute effort? As for prior education back home, unfortunately, it didn’t align with Austrian standards.

At this time, discrepancies between countries’ textbooks were vast. It wasn’t unusual for the same problem to have entirely different answers depending on where you learned.

This issue was especially pronounced in science and engineering, where rapid advancements required frequent updates to textbooks, sometimes annually.

For humanities and history, the situation was even more pronounced. Austrian schools based their content on local textbooks, meaning interpretations of historical events could starkly contradict accounts from elsewhere.

When it came to exams, Austrian schools didn’t bother accommodating such differences and they simply tested students according to their standards.

You can support the translation at /dragonlegion

This educational gap naturally led to lower scores for international students, reinforcing the perception that they were less capable—a frustrating cycle with little recourse.

Brian Haig shook his head and comforted Morse, “There’s nothing we can do about it. Mexico is just too weak. Even with the same scores, international students from major powers are given priority for admission. But don’t despair, Morse. When Mexico becomes stronger, this situation will improve.”

Morse nodded vehemently, filled with shared indignation, “Exactly! It’s all because of those damn warlords! They’re always fighting for power, tearing great Mexico apart!”

Finding a shared grievance, the two quickly hit it off and soon became good friends.

…

After seeing Morse off, the smile on Brian Haig’s face vanished. He jotted down the following in his notebook:

Morse — Male — 19 years old, patriotic and idealistic youth, progressive in thought, with a clear anti-warlord stance. His stance on monarchy remains unclear and requires further observation. Recommended for close monitoring.

He quickly put the notebook away, locked it in a drawer, and resumed his other tasks as if nothing had happened.

Indeed, Brian Haig was a member of Maximilian I’s restoration clique. He wasn’t alone—many Mexican international students had also joined the organization.

This was largely thanks to the efforts of Maximilian I’s loyal followers. After arriving in Austria, these individuals had not faded into obscurity. Instead, they remained actively engaged in their mission to restore the monarchy.

Although Maximilian I had become disheartened and withdrawn, primarily focusing on fundraising, his lack of meddling allowed his followers to operate more effectively.

Europe at this time was still a stronghold of monarchies. Even in France, the cradle of revolutionary thought, monarchy remained the dominant ideology.

Against this backdrop, it was inevitable that pro-monarchist ideas would influence students studying in Europe.

Moreover, the worsening chaos in Mexico, with warlord conflicts surpassing even those of Maximilian I’s era, had caused many to question the viability of a republican system.

Seizing the moment, Franz took the opportunity to rehabilitate Maximilian I’s reputation, pinning the blame for his failures entirely on conservatives and opportunists.

To sway these idealistic youths, Franz went as far as compiling and promoting the policies and decrees issued during Maximilian I’s reign. And thus, many were convinced.

After all, Maximilian I hadn’t actually done anything overtly harmful. Even though his policies had their flaws, those issues were largely behind the scenes. On the surface, his actions appeared to be for the good of the country and its people.

While this narrative might not work on seasoned skeptics, it was quite effective in persuading passionate, idealistic young people.

Since the emperor’s policies seemed blameless and there were no allegations of decadence, the blame for the country’s troubles naturally fell on the conservative factions and opportunists who opposed reform.

The current chaos of warlordism in Mexico conveniently reinforced this narrative. Many people began to assume that Maximilian I, as a foreign ruler, had been isolated and undermined upon his arrival, rendering him powerless against the ambitions of local factions.

No additional embellishment from Franz was needed. The restoration clique had already gathered plenty of solid evidence showing that many individuals had defied the emperor’s orders.

As international students, who generally came from the upper echelons of society, absorbed this perspective, they began drawing their own conclusions, connecting the dots further.

The result was the expansion of the restoration clique. From its original 200-300 members, it had grown to over 4,000 members.

How many of them genuinely supported the emperor, and how many were simply opportunists, was difficult to determine.

Without the steady stream of funding—which convinced outsiders that the Habsburg monarchy was still interested in backing Maximilian I’s restoration—the group would likely have dwindled to just a handful of members.

Even Franz himself wasn’t entirely sure whether a restoration was the right course of action. The funding for the restoration clique came only partially from Franz; Maximilian I himself raised the majority.

Despite his lackluster abilities, Maximilian I had a way of endearing himself to people. According to Franz, both Archduke Karl and Archduchess Sophie, their mother, had essentially emptied their coffers to support Maximilian’s costly restoration efforts.

If this investment failed, there was a high likelihood that Maximilian’s two other brothers would face the unfortunate reality of having no inheritance to fall back on.

That said, this was a minor issue. The Habsburg family was well-educated and cultivated, unlikely to make a public spectacle over an inheritance dispute that could tarnish their reputation.

Still, the relationship between Maximilian I and his two brothers was understandably strained. The issue wasn’t purely about money—none of them were exactly poor—but about jealousy.

When parents favor one child over the others, it’s natural for resentment to simmer beneath the surface. Had Maximilian I been the eldest son, this favoritism might have been easier to accept, aligning with the Germanic tradition of primogeniture.

Unfortunately, Maximilian I wasn’t the eldest, and his parents’ obvious bias inevitably caused discontent among his brothers. Though they masked their feelings well and maintained the appearance of harmony, Franz could see through the facade.

While Franz was fully aware of the tensions, he had no intention of addressing them. Favoritism is part of family dynamics, and there isn’t always a clear right or wrong. Pretending not to notice was the best course of action as exposing the issue would only make things awkward for everyone involved.

Besides, the investment hadn’t failed yet. Maximilian I may have fallen short, but he still had a son, Maximilian II, who was only a child. Perhaps this “alt account*” might achieve what the main one could not.

TN: *alternate account, gaming reference.