Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 773 - 681 The Prelude to the Counterattack

Chapter 773: Chapter 681: The Prelude to the Counterattack

Chapter 773: Chapter 681: The Prelude to the Counterattack

A Northeast border city in Austria, Metz.

In the square of the Cathedral at the city center, nearly a thousand citizens gathered, looking devoutly at the Archbishop Marlu standing on the church steps, also known as Mr. Mesmer.

“The new Crusade has already begun!” Mesmer radiated a holy glow, raising his hand, “All Christians should respond to the call of His Holiness the Pope, eastward, to that sacred battlefield!

“Evil heresy will be judged there, and you too shall redeem all your sins through it!”

Although the onlookers were not as fervent as the Poles, they still followed suit, making the sign of the cross and shouting loudly, “Judge the heretics!”

“Answer the call to Crusade!”

Standing behind the “Archbishop Marlu,” the Bishop of Metz, Borowski, was already pale. The envoy from the Pope had only said he was to convey the Pope’s instructions, but he had not expected such vehement content.

He had the mind to step forward and stop it, but under the public’s watchful eye, he did not know how to close the scene.

Mesmer continued: “If the Eastern Orthodox heretics defeat Poland, they will certainly cross the Carpathian Mountains and take over this place!

“And you, will be forced to pray with the ridiculous gesture of three fingers. Your children will be baptized by being thrown into tubs of water. And you may never get the chance to escape the torment of Purgatory!

“Do you wish for that?”

As a professional scam artist, he naturally understood the importance of exaggeration.

The Eastern Orthodox gesture of prayer is not a mandatory requirement. Baptism is simply immersing the child in Holy Water, not using any sort of tub. As for Purgatory, it isn’t even a concept in Eastern Orthodoxy, nor is there a need for redemption to escape suffering in Purgatory.

But the crowd in the square had exploded into a tsunami of shouts, “No, never!”

“May the heretics never come here!”

“Crusade! Crusade!”

Mesmer nodded with satisfaction: “Then, with your devotion, go support the valiant warriors who battle against the heretics!”

Bishop Borowski nearly fainted, rubbing his forehead desperately, pondering how to mitigate the impact after the envoy left.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened.

Something was wrong, for such a major call to Crusade, why had the Holy See not issued directives in advance, but instead sent an envoy directly?

Just then, Mesmer concluded his speech and walked over to him.

Bishop Borowski kept a stern face, hurriedly pulling him into the Cathedral, “What are you trying to do? This isn’t the will of the Pope!”

Mesmer was not the least bit nervous.

He had come prepared to be exposed and was relieved that the other party had not even suspected his identity, just the action, which was much easier to deal with than previous times.

He calmly said, “Although it is not the case now, it will be soon.”

Bishop Borowski angrily said, “How could that be possible? I am going to report you to the Holy See!”

“That is your right,” Mesmer smiled, “By the way, you must have heard, Russia has issued an ultimatum to Poland, and war will break out soon.”

“So what?”

“Europe’s nations will soon all know about the Pope’s call for Crusade. If Poland does not fare well, the Pope will certainly not deny the Crusade because that would make people think the Holy See fears Eastern Orthodoxy.

“If Poland defeats the Russians, then the Pope’s prestige will increase immensely due to ‘leading’ this Crusade. In that case, he might even personally come to Metz to call the Crusaders to the East.”

Bishop Borowski was startled; it seemed indeed the case. The action of this papal envoy was to expand the influence of the Holy See.

Mesmer continued, “If you can promote the cause of the Crusade in your diocese, I will certainly speak well of you to the Holy See.”

He wasn’t worried about Borowski’s disbelief. Even if the latter detained him, the people from the Freedom and Security Committee would come to his rescue tonight.

That afternoon, Mesmer, after being seen off by Bishop Borowski, left Novi Sącz and rushed to Austria’s Belle to continue his crusade speech.

After he left, pamphlets about the Pope’s call for a crusade began to appear in large numbers in Novi Sącz, and the topic was fervently discussed by citizens everywhere.

And then there were actually religious zealots who went to Poland to join the Crusaders.

Although there were not many, just over a hundred people, they were mostly self-equipped soldiers who didn’t need to be paid. As Mesmer passed through several cities near the Austrian border, he gratuitously increased the Polish force by seven to eight hundred soldiers.

Of course, more important than the troops was the fact that the news quickly reached Vienna, and all of Austria knew that the Poles were acting as the “Spear of God,” waging a crusade against the Russians.

And as a Catholic country, people naturally thought that they should stand with Poland.

…

Marekai Town.

Yanick wiped his flintlock gun with a cloth, silently calculating in his mind, and muttered to himself, “7 days.”

It was his seventh day here.

That is to say, the Russian army had been held outside the town for a week.

Although news of the defense line being in danger came every day and the casualties among the soldiers were very severe—casualties in his unit had approached a third—the defense line had never been broken by the enemy.

A young boy came over carrying a bucket, starting to clean the rags on the ground.

Yanick looked at him and said, “Kaki, there’s a cart taking the wounded back to Warsaw tomorrow, and you can go with it.”

The boy paused for a moment, then shook his head.

Yanick said, “It’s dangerous here.”

Kaki still shook his head.

“Do you want to avenge your sister?”

Kaki nodded.

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Yanick reached out and ruffled his hair, wincing from the pain of a wound, “Hiss— I know, but you’re not even as tall as a flintlock gun.”

“I can operate artillery!” the boy rarely spoke, but he said these few words with great force.

Yanick smiled, “Then you’ll have to go back to Warsaw and study Mathematics first before you can become a qualified artilleryman. The enemy won’t always just come within range on their own.”

He had already decided to adopt the boy, even though he was only 19 years old himself.

But he was officially promoted to sergeant three days ago, and the allowance was almost enough for Kaki to complete his general education, while the military academy was said to be free.

Kaki looked at him again, thought for a moment, and nodded earnestly, “Mhm, I’ll come back quickly!”

Yanick’s hand moved instinctively, then remembering his wound he quickly withdrew it and pointed to the ground instead, “Until you learn how to operate artillery, I’ll keep this place safe.

“Just like Mister Delasovitz and the others.”

The sound of military drums from behind interrupted him.

He turned his head and saw a Polish Army detachment on the road in the distance.

The soldiers were marching in extremely neat columns, following the beat of the drums towards the south, their numbers stretching as far as the eye could see.

Kaki looked at him with a questioning gaze.

Yanick shook his head, “Maybe they’re here to assist with the town’s defense, I’m not sure.”

Just then, the lieutenant from his unit came to check the condition of the firearms and looked up when he heard the conversation, pointing towards the flag at the front of the column, “That’s the King’s Domain Third Infantry Division, and that one behind looks like the King’s Second Cavalry Battalion.”