She changed Europe

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The officers and guards present immediately obeyed the king's order and left the room.

With a loud bang, the king, his hands trembling, took off his military cap and threw it heavily to the ground.

"You damned idiots!!! That's 20,000 people!! Even if it were 20,000 pigs, that woman Garibaldi would need to hold them for at least a few days! In just over ten minutes, you've told me so many surprises! Shouldn't I thank you properly, the pillars of the kingdom? The most loyal subjects!" Francesco II's roar echoed through the air above Palermo.

However, no one could offer the king enough comfort at this time, and as the cannons roared, the rebels quickly launched their attack.

The rebel soldiers roared as they charged toward the fortified walls of Palermo, venting their anger and resentment with their rudimentary weapons against the rulers who had once oppressed them.

Unfortunately, guns have no mercy. As the royal soldiers stationed on the city walls, under the command of their officers, pushed bullets into their chambers and skillfully pulled the triggers, countless muzzles, emitting flashes and smoke, spat out countless deadly bullets.

The civilians, lacking any military training, charged in a typical dense formation. Apart from what they considered to be unparalleled momentum and a willingness to die, they possessed none of the qualities a true soldier should have on the battlefield.

Clouds of blood mist rose as countless bullets struck them, and the crowd fell like wheat being harvested. As some shells fell, the massive explosions and shockwaves blasted even more rebel soldiers to pieces.

It was less a battle and more a massacre. Every time the royal soldiers pulled the trigger, their souls were tormented. Because those dying before their eyes were not invaders, but their own compatriots, and perhaps even their own family members.

"This is the king's command, and our honor is loyalty." At this point, they had no idea how to face the enemy before them, except to use this phrase as a way to hypnotize themselves.

Meanwhile, another person, Lin Ba, was in the rebel army's camp.

"You're sending them to their deaths for nothing!" Siegfried roared angrily at Garibaldi.

“Is that so? I know perfectly well!” Garibaldi replied coldly to the man, then glanced out of the corner of his eye at the short, silver-haired woman in a black and white suit who was sipping tea beside him.

"What's wrong with you! Using innocent civilians as the vanguard of your attacks and as bait against the enemy! Doesn't your conscience hurt? Has the justice you once upheld become so worthless?" The man strode up to Garibaldi, grabbed her collar with his right hand, and roughly lifted her up.

"I know exactly what I'm doing! It's all for victory!" Given Garibaldi's strength, she shouldn't be treated so rudely by the man in front of her, but perhaps she was also enduring inner condemnation, so she used his criticism to balance her guilt.

Of course, there was another reason why he did this...

“Magna! (Great!), Miss Garibaldi, I am very pleased with your resolve. Our gang members are all realists and egoists. We are not interested in national righteousness or sacrifice. What we want to see most is profit. Since you can keep your promise and drive the people to sacrifice for you and do things you hate, then everything in southern Italy will be yours.” This girl, who looked a little younger than her age, spoke with the confidence of someone in a position of power, as well as a coldness and maturity that was different from her appearance.

Garibaldi didn't say much, only nodded slightly, then continued to grip the hilt of her sword hanging at her waist, observing the battle in the distance. No one noticed her knuckles, white from the exertion, or her lips, bitten so tightly they were almost bleeding.

How can one convince a group of realists and egoists? Garibaldi is not Cavour, for she lacks his silver tongue; she is not Mazzini, for she lacks his keen insight and intelligence; she is even inferior to Gisela. Compared to that Austrian princess, she has always been alone, without a single truly competent deputy by her side. Even the princess far away in Turin only saw her as a young girl who admired her experiences and career.

To have the people she cherishes most sacrifice themselves for her so-called goals—such a decision and the courage she displays are enough to convince VV and her subordinates of her resolve and awareness. This action is different from the past; this time, she will surely succeed.

In the distance, amidst the heavy casualties of their compatriots, the adrenaline and the initial fervor of the atmosphere gradually wore off for the insurgent soldiers. Their deepest fears were reignited, along with the dread of death. Immediately, thousands of insurgent soldiers scattered like birds and beasts, fleeing away from the city walls.

After witnessing everything from the city walls, the king regained the confidence he had had in easily crushing the mob a few days earlier. He quickly made a decision, ordering tens of thousands of soldiers in the city to charge out together, intending to rely on their momentum to completely defeat the mob in front of them. Even with Garibaldi in charge, her role would be very limited without her magic armor, and he was not without a chance of victory.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 328 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 44 The King's Wings Abandon Their Armies (Seeking Votes)

At the king's command, the soldiers of the royal army marched out of their fortifications to the beat of drums. Under the command of their officers, they slowly spread out on the plain, forming neat lines of infantry, and then marched forward. Although it was an old army tactic from the Napoleonic era, its overwhelming momentum due to the high level of training of the troops was incomparable to that of a hastily organized militia.

At this moment, the king's cavalry, swaggering and triumphant, moved between the various infantry lines, converging from all directions toward the central route where the king was located. Finally, a powerful force of several thousand cavalrymen was assembled.

From a distance, Garibaldi watched as the kingdom's army was easily lured into an offensive. He took a deep breath and ordered his troops to retreat further.

Her main force is retreating in an orderly fashion. As for the tens of thousands of rebels who are facing the kingdom's army head-on, perhaps only God can save them now...

"Abandon all artillery! Hunt rabbits and wild deer—I don't need these cumbersome beasts. Let the infantry follow, and the cavalry charge the enemy!" Despite his poor physical condition and terrible horsemanship, Francesco II still didn't want to let go of any easy victory. He commanded all his cavalry to prepare to charge the retreating mob.

The dust kicked up by hundreds and thousands of warhorses churned up the entire plain, turning it upside down. The neighing of the warhorses, the shouts of the soldiers, and the cries of the masses mingled together at that moment.

The king and his loyal cavalrymen charged through tens of thousands of people. The bloody slaughter drove them into a frenzied advance, and they only stopped after traveling several kilometers. By then, they had quietly entered a valley filled with trees on both sides.

By this time, he had already left his main infantry force far behind. The sun was setting, and the exhausted Francesco II decided to lead his troops victoriously back to Palermo. He still believed that his performance that day had lived up to the reputation of his Bourbon ancestors, for he had defeated an enemy many times his size (even if the vast majority were his own people).

But the woman gave him no chance to savor his victory. As gunfire erupted from the surrounding forest, and the cannons mounted on the magical armor glowed white, Francesco II realized the impending danger. Earlier, in pursuit of the enemy, he had sent most of the magical armor and infantry along, while taking the fastest cavalry out alone.

The kingdom's cavalry, who had been "powerful" all day, were shot down one by one by bullets fired from all directions and fell from their horses. Some knights who were unwilling to sit and wait for their deaths tried to charge up the hillsides on both sides, but the horse barricades that had been buried on both sides were pulled up from the sand by the rebel soldiers. In an instant, these soldiers were separated from their horses and fell headlong into the enemy.

Francesco II desperately looked back in the direction they had come from, wanting to escape down that road. Unfortunately, in the middle of that road stood a spirited brown-haired woman, her familiar figure and the weapon in her hand reflecting a chilling glint.

At the same time that Garibaldi's army surrounded King VIII, VV's rebel army had already circled around to the rear of the main force of the royal infantry. After a brief battle, they wiped out the small number of royal garrison troops left in the city and seized all of their cannons.

These cannons, originally intended to fight the rebels, were now all aimed at the distant plains. If Garibaldi's operation succeeded, Francesco II's generals would surely retreat into the city under cover of night. And when they were most exhausted, they would not be greeted by steaming food and comfortable beds, but by countless cannonballs and deafening explosions.

After the sun, which had been blazing all day, had completely sunk below the horizon, the exhausted generals, who had lost contact with the king, led their troops back to the city in a daze, preparing to wait for the king's return.

A desperate battle report reached them not long after news of Francesco II's capture and the annihilation of thousands of elite cavalrymen arrived.

VV had already locked the Kingdom's army marching across the plains under the muzzle of their cannons. With the booming of the cannons from the artillery positions, the shells, in rhythm with the drumbeats, exploded wantonly among the Kingdom's army.

These cannons were imported from the French and Austrians by Francesco II to deal with potential future uprisings or crises. These advanced breech-loading cannons had only just begun to be used, and the French and German inscriptions on them had not yet been translated into Italian before they were captured by the enemy.

The thunderous roar of cannons echoed across the entire plain. In the pitch-black plain, only the flashes of exploding shells were truly dazzling. Faced with such a terrifying attack, even if a general still held tens of thousands of troops in his hands, probably no general would have the resolve to die for his country. At this moment, surrender might be the best option.

Thus, on June 25, 1871, the 6-strong army of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was completely annihilated on the island of Sicily by the rebel army led by Garibaldi. With the capture of the king himself, this largest feudal stronghold in southern Italy had entered its most dangerous period. Garibaldi created yet another myth with her outstanding talent, and her act of using civilians as bait did not concern the people at the time, because in the minds of most Italians, these were the work of the king and his reactionary army, and their "hero" was incapable of making mistakes.

As the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies teetered on the brink of collapse, Gisela basked in the sun on her spacious private balcony at Buda Castle, enjoying the tranquility and comfort of the afternoon sun. From this balcony, she could easily take in the entire beautiful and prosperous city of Budapest, clearly recognizing both the shimmering Danube River and the Gresham Palace, the seat of the Hungarian Parliament, on the opposite bank.

“e2-e4,” Gisela said softly, and then her personal maid Rita moved the chess pieces according to Gisela’s instructions.

"The next step is E7-E5, right?" Marta, sitting opposite Gisela, said absentmindedly, looking bored as she leaned on her chair.

“After all, I could tell from the very beginning with your ‘Kingside Gambit’ tactic that you were going to imitate Mr. Andersen’s classic game.” Marta then turned over and glanced at the cute blonde girl beside her out of the corner of her eye. (The game Gisela was imitating took place in 1851 and was invented by the German chess master Adolf Andersen.)

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 329 The Fall of St. Stephen's Crown: Capter 45 Naples' Plea for Help (Vote Requested)

"Perhaps!" Gisela responded to Marta's words with a slight smile, seemingly still holding back some things.

"Wang e1-f1".

"Horse g8-f6." The situation between the two sides seemed to be at a stalemate, but in Rita's view, her Highness seemed to be at a disadvantage.

"..."

"After f3-f6".

"General." However, Gisela unexpectedly defeated Mata Hari.

"Miss, please don't let your guard down until the very last moment." Gisela snapped her fingers lightly, as the victor she had the privilege of receiving such a line.

“Although I have won the game, I believe I should still give a lady who has so much to offer a gift.” With these words from Gisela, Rita entered the room and quickly returned with a bouquet of beautiful red roses, presenting them to Marta. Gisela's affection for Marta was certainly not just a matter of physical intimacy.

Marta nodded and smiled as she accepted the gift Gisela gave her. As she reached out to take the flowers, she wondered if it was just her imagination, but she actually saw jealousy and hostility in the eyes of the maid named Rita…

"Your Highness, I am very curious. Gold, silver, jewels, real estate, mansions—anything of value can be given as a gift. In terms of wealth, you have so many gifts to choose from. So why give me a bouquet of precious flowers? And I am just a female spy who wants to use you and may even betray you at any time?" In the upper class of this era, because material resources are so abundant, the more special the gift, the more it can express one's feelings.

“Because I’m interested in you.” Gisela propped her head up with her right hand, looking seriously at the dark-haired beauty before her. “Crack!” At that moment, the ceramic plate made a pitiful creak due to the force applied by the maid.

"I'm sorry, Rita lost her composure." Rita bowed to the two people in front of her to express her apology.

"Is that so, Your Highness? Although I am also very interested in you, I have no intention of deepening our relationship further." A smart woman knows how to refuse, and she also knows how to manage her emotions and maintain appropriate boundaries.

Hearing this, Rita secretly breathed a sigh of relief. But this woman actually dared to refuse His Highness; she really didn't know what was good for her!

“However…” Marta only got halfway through her sentence before getting up from the recliner and trying to stand up. But then an accident happened. She suddenly felt weak and fell to the ground. If she hadn’t grabbed the railing in time, she would have inevitably fallen to the ground.

"Miss, what's wrong?" Rita quickly went to Marta and tried to help her up. Gisela also got up from the recliner and went to check on her.

"I'm fine, I might have a bit of heatstroke. Miss Rita, could you please go to the kitchen and get me a glass of plum juice? The sun seems a bit too hot today." Miss Marta breathed softly, looking quite uncomfortable.

"No problem! Your Highness, please take care of this young lady. I'll go downstairs and get some plum juice, I'll be back soon." Marta wasn't a magic user, or even a magic warrior, so she posed no threat to His Highness. Moreover, since His Highness showed no hostility towards her, Rita could leave with peace of mind this time.

Besides, since her lady's guest had encountered an accident, she naturally had an obligation to help. And so, as the room door closed, only Gisela and Marta remained on the large balcony.

"I didn't expect you to get heatstroke too," Gisela said, tilting her head in surprise.

“Your Highness, in theory, it should take about five minutes for your maid to get from your room to the kitchen, then take the drink upstairs. However, the plum juice downstairs is out of stock, so your loyal maid has to go to the storeroom to find it. It will take another five to ten minutes to go to the storeroom in Budaburg. Then, it will take another ten minutes to go back to the kitchen to prepare the utensils and then bring them upstairs. So, from now on, we have a maximum of twenty-five minutes of time alone together.”

"Twenty-five minutes alone? What do you mean?" Gisela looked at the woman in front of her with some wariness. This was not the first time she had encountered an assassination attempt. Thinking of this, she stood up and retreated.

“Your Highness, let’s get back to the question. I didn’t finish what I was saying!” Marta’s lips curled up slightly as she wrapped her arms around Gisela’s neck, pushed her onto the recliner, and then straddled Gisela.

“However, I can express my gratitude to you in a small way.” With a gentle tone, Marta closed her eyes and kissed Gisela. A kiss different from the one she had given Chloris washed over Gisela, lingering in her heart. For the woman's lips before her were as soft and sweet as pudding.

The delicate fragrance of orchids is both alluring and poignant.

"Ah!" Gisela made a sound involuntarily.

"By the way, what exactly is the use of your fox ears?" Marta lightly touched Gisela's nose with her index finger, then traced the curve of her nose upwards, across her fair skin, through her smooth golden hair, and down to her furry animal ears.

Feel the shape of her ears, then gently apply pressure, and Gisela will give an incredibly cute reaction.

Such an adorable reaction was truly unforgettable. The princess of the empire was like a docile little animal in bed. This strong contrast and sense of conquest caused a strange blush to rise on Miss Marta's face.

"How many would Your Highness like?" Marta asked with a playful smile.

"What number?"

Meanwhile, Rita —

Rita, who had been delayed for quite some time, finally prepared the plum juice. However, when she was about to go upstairs, she ran into two long-lost "friends".

The red-haired girl Lania, and Tifa, Gisela's sister's adjutant.

"What brings you two ladies to His Highness's attention?" It wasn't unreasonable for them, as Gisela's confidantes, to ask each other this question.

"In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, King Francesco II was defeated and captured. A coup occurred in Naples, and the kingdom's nobles supported Count Luigi Maria of Trani to succeed to the throne." If the Empire's previous interference in the revolution in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was considered unreasonable, things changed after Luigi became king. This was because Luigi's wife, Mathilde, was the sister of Empress Elisabeth, and their father was also a Duke of Bavaria.

There is no doubt that this new king is Emperor Joseph's brother-in-law. Based on this relationship alone, the empire has an obligation to help him, not to mention that Naples's plea for help has already reached Vienna.

PS1: Monday the Deadly

Chapter 330 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 46 Court Politics (Seeking Votes)

This time, an astonishing consensus was reached between the Imperial Diet, the Emperor, and the Prime Minister: to send troops south to assist the new King of the Two Sicilies in suppressing the revolution in southern Italy led by Garibaldi.

"His Majesty intends to send the 30,000 Imperial Army troops stationed in Italy, together with the princes of Northern Italy and the Papal States' army, to form a joint force to suppress the revolution in Southern Italy." The principle of "if the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold" is something that any clear-headed Italian prince understands, and even the Roman Catholic Church has expressed its support.

"Then what about the scale and the commander?" With such a golden opportunity, Rita was certain that her prince would be given an important position, given the undeniable victory in the Italian War.

"A total of approximately 100,000 men, commanded by Crown Prince Rudolf as commander-in-chief, assisted by Marshal Güle, while Grand Duchess Freya will continue to garrison Milan." Marshal Güle, though of mediocre command ability, enjoys the deep trust of Emperor Joseph. Historically, he would have been dismissed due to the previous defeat in the Italian Wars, but thanks to Gisela, he did not bring disastrous consequences to the imperial army, and thus remained in service. His situation is even more prestigious than in previous eras, as evidenced by Joseph's appointment as Rudolf's adjutant.

"Why not Her Highness the Princess!" Rita protested, somewhat indignantly on Gisela's behalf.

“Miss Rita, this has nothing to do with ability, it’s politics…” Tifa sighed. Even though she always exuded the competence and composure of a professional soldier, she still had some bias towards Gisela Tifa.

"Politics again!" Rania complained somewhat discontentedly. Having transformed from a politically astute noblewoman into an entrepreneur deeply involved in grassroots work, discussing development with technicians, and managing the company on a daily basis, these past three years had felt like a period of "labor reform" for Rania. Now, newly manufactured weapons and inventions were far more appealing to her than pretty dresses and dazzling jewelry.

"The reasons for choosing His Highness the Crown Prince this time are not hard to guess. On the one hand, it must be the result of pressure from the faction led by the Empress Dowager. On the other hand, Rudolf, who is already 13 years old this year, also has an urgent need to go to the battlefield and make military achievements." It should be noted that when he was 13 years old, one of his two older sisters had already held an important position in the army, and the other had made outstanding military achievements in Denmark and Italy.

"If the crown prince wants to be recognized by the people and the nobles, he needs sufficient prestige to ensure the stability of his throne. Moreover, the rebels are a 'rabble,' and the army that marched south this time numbered nearly 100,000. Wouldn't it be an easy task for such a large army to defeat that rabble?"

"Yes, that makes sense." Rita nodded in agreement.

"By the way, Miss Rita, why are you holding plum juice? Summer has only just begun, so why is someone already drinking it to cool off? That's strange," Tifa said, tilting her head in confusion.

"You don't understand. We like to drink this kind of beverage to replenish fluids after physical labor. In my company, providing beverages is a special benefit. His Highness said that it can improve workers' treatment and increase their enthusiasm for work." Rania rubbed the tip of her nose and answered quickly.

The timing of the illness, the need for plum juice to hydrate despite not engaging in strenuous exercise—it all seems too coincidental, almost as if it were deliberately orchestrated.

"Oh no! It's that woman's plot!" Rita's heart leaped into her throat as she thought of the several assassination attempts that had occurred around Gisela.

"Miss Tifa, Miss Rania, come with me quickly!" Rita couldn't care less about chatting anymore; any later and her mistress's life might be in danger.

Gisela at this moment —

"Look at you, little cutie, what is this?" Marta held her hand, which was covered in a layer of crystal-clear liquid, in front of Gisela, glancing at the wet edge of her skirt.

"She's still such a pure and innocent young girl, so beautiful. I wonder how many men would go crazy for her?" Marta sighed, feigning worry, as she thought about this.

"You...enough...enough...I will...absolutely...not...let...you go." Gisela gasped for breath, exhausted, her body hunched over, her disordered breathing betraying her condition.

"You mean you still want it?" Marta asked, a slight smile playing on her lips, after glancing at the clock on the wall in the room.

"I..." Gisela frowned in annoyance, placing her left hand on her chest and using her right to block her view. She was utterly humiliated; a grown man, she'd been ambushed by this wicked woman and fallen into her trap.

"Good girl! Little fox, just give your body to me like this, and big sister can take you to a happier place." Marta looked at the woman lying on the chair in front of her, her smile becoming even brighter. She slowly leaned down and smelled the unique fragrance of Gisela's hair.

"Come on! Clean my fingers."

Gisela initially turned her head away in disgust, but Marta wasn't annoyed. She grabbed Gisela's right hand, moved her aside, and then brought her hand back to Gisela's face.

"Why should I!" Gisela roared in dissatisfaction.

"Because you're the one who dirtied it," the black-haired woman said relentlessly, her left hand already gripping Gisela's tail to match her tough stance.

"You know the price of rejecting me, don't you?"

"Martha! Don't go too far! I am the princess!"

"Is that so?" Marta increased the pressure slightly with her fingertips, and the girl beneath her shuddered as if she had been electrocuted.

"You!" Gisela looked at the other person's wet fingers with some resentment, having grasped her destiny...

"Thump!" Just then, Gisela's door was violently kicked open, and three women carrying weapons entered the room. Because of the curtains on the balcony, the chaise lounge where the two women were located was in a blind spot for the three women, who could now see everything in the room clearly.

"On the balcony!" Tifa walked towards the balcony first, followed by Rania, and then Rita.