She changed Europe

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Of course, in the end, her "marriage ship" not only did not betray her (as Gisela believed), but also helped her at a crucial moment. This shows that the British leadership was not as united as it appeared to the outside world.

This can be utilized in the future, and it will be a key to dealing with Britain.

However, Gisela shook her head. After all, there were just too many brain-teasing things to think about. So the fox gave up on thinking altogether and decided to let things take their course, because she also wanted to see what the British, Turks, and even the Jesuits were plotting.

Just then, Gisela walked into the courtyard, and Rita, who was standing there blankly, was the first to notice Gisela.

"Your Highness! Did they give you any trouble?" Rita asked with a slight frown and some concern.

"What trouble could there be in observing a parliamentary resolution?" Gisela spread her hands, appearing quite relaxed.

"Your Highness, did you go to do something else?" Rita whispered to Gisela as if she had thought of something.

"Hmm? Why are you suddenly saying that?" Gisela tilted her head, somewhat curious about when Rita had become so powerful.

“Because just ten minutes ago, the Hungarian nobles and members of parliament, including the Count, had already left one after another!” Rita explained to Gisela in a serious tone.

"..."

Gisela instinctively stepped back, glancing at Jeanne behind her. She didn't want to reveal too much to her maid right now, as she couldn't afford to disrupt the cooperative relationship between the others and Shahrador.

"Your Highness, where are your high heels? And why are your white stockings covered in mud? Don't tell me you were just throwing a tantrum like an ill-mannered beggar!" Rita grabbed Gisela's ear with a stern tone, her voice tinged with disappointment, as it was her responsibility not to have taught the prince properly.

"I didn't..." Gisela was about to deny it, but the pain from her fox ears made her swallow back the excuse that should have come out.

"Ugh! I was wrong!" Gisela's eyes welled up with tears from the pain, a reaction that startled Rita, who quickly let go of her hand. Gisela then revealed a smug smile, as if her evil scheme had succeeded, and fled towards the door as if her feet were greased.

"..."

Gisela brushed past Shahrador, who was walking towards her. The girl smiled, and Shahrador responded politely. However, when she looked at the speck of brown dirt on Gisela's white stockings, she frowned.

PS1: Do foxes look better in white stockings or black stockings?

Chapter 316 The Fall of St. Stephen's Crown: Capter 32 The Landscape of Southern Italy (Seeking Votes)

The various parties' plans are still unfolding, which led me to shift my focus away from Hungary and towards southern Italy, which had previously been largely unaffected by the war.

Looking back at history, we can easily find that since 1816, the beautiful and rich Kingdom of Naples and the Kingdom of Sicily were unified under Ferdinand I, a ruler from the Bourbon dynasty. Since then, southern Italy has stood as a whole in the southern part of the Apennine Peninsula.

Unlike the small Kingdom of Sardinia and other feudal lords of northern Italy, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was the largest feudal kingdom in Italy and, of course, one of the biggest obstacles in the eyes of "progressives".

Although it still stands strong in southern Italy, the country is currently experiencing a major political crisis.

On June 23, 1871, less than a year after the end of the Northern Italian War, a massive uprising broke out in Palermo, the capital of the Sicily region in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Angry citizens threw officials sent by Francesco II to collect taxes out of windows and spontaneously seized several military strongholds in the city. Immediately after capturing the armory, they launched an attack on the royal fortress north of Palermo.

This sparked a widespread response from citizens across Sicily, and the movement quickly spread throughout the country in just three days. European monarchies, seemingly reliving the nightmare of the 1848 rebellion, overwhelmingly expressed their support for Francesco II.

For example, in a letter to Francesco II, Emperor Joseph of Austria-Hungary wrote: "Those damned mobs again! We must completely extinguish them. This fire, like fleas, will burn the whole of Europe if not stopped in time. Rest assured, my dear Francesco, my army is ready. If you need them, they will cross the Po River as scheduled. Fresh from the crucible of war, they will surely tear these ants to shreds."

Francesco II, emboldened by the verbal promise from Austria, the victorious power in northern Italy, quickly reorganized his army in Naples, hastily assembling a force of nearly 50,000 men. A few days later, they crossed the Strait of Messina and marched in a grand procession toward Palermo, the heart of the rebellion.

In Messina, where His Majesty the King's army had just departed, a man with silver hair tied back sat comfortably atop a gray tower, gazing out at the boundless sea.

He hummed an unknown melody, while his blue eyes were filled with a unique sense of bewilderment and vicissitude.

A moment later, the man took out a pack of cigarettes wrapped in white paper from the side pocket of his coat, then gently picked up one of the cigarettes with his mouth and reached into his pockets to rummage around, clearly looking for his matchbox.

"Tsk! Did I forget it down there again?" the man muttered to himself, then sighed helplessly.

“Siegfried, being so forgetful isn’t a proper gentleman’s habit!” A beautiful woman with short silver hair brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then gracefully sat down opposite the man, handing him the matchbox. If one observed carefully, it wouldn’t be hard to notice that both the man and woman’s clothing bore traces of church affiliation, clearly indicating they both had clergy backgrounds.

"Didn't you decide to leave the Knights?" The man skillfully lit a match, a small flame rose, igniting a cigarette, and a tobacco scent mixed with perfume and nicotine filled the air.

"Of course, I have already received instructions from the Lord to travel to the far East and unravel the mystery of the Eastern Magic Power Envoys' bloodline for the Holy See." The silver-haired woman's tone revealed an unprecedented determination, as if she was determined to succeed on this mission.

"What is in the East? That ancient Chinese empire has been closed off from the world for centuries, still guarding the territory that their ancestors won with their blood, remaining stagnant and closed-minded. Meanwhile, the two most powerful countries in Europe have already knocked on their long-closed doors, and the Russian bear, licking its wounds, is also coveting this rich but declining empire."

“If this continues, they will only become the next India.” Siegfried did not have any prejudice against the Eastern country. As a third party with no conflict of interest, he had a deeper and more rational understanding of the predicament of this Eastern empire.

"No! They won't, Siegfried. The Queen of France once said that they are a sleeping lion because they have been invincible in the world for too long."

Consider this: the former territory of this ancient Eastern nation stretched from Mongolia to the islands of Southeast Asia, from the Central Asian steppes to the western shores of the Pacific. Their monarchs achieved a high degree of centralization of power as early as two thousand years ago. The power generated by their efficient bureaucracy eclipsed even the glory of Europe's greatest monarchs.

"The more you learn about them, the more curious you become."

"Don't you want to find out what connection the princess, on whom His Holiness the bishop has placed so much hope, has with the Eastern Empire?"

“I understand, but…” Siegfried sighed helplessly.

“Bishop Otto has gone mad in his search for you. He’s even mobilized the Thirteen Courts and the entire Vatican. But which of those spies who work day and night could have imagined that their saint, the former Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, would be here chatting with me?”

“It’s such a great irony that our church is only so united at times like this.” The woman smiled as she gazed at the calm sea in the distance. The fine weather today made the ocean more docile than they had ever known. Although she spoke in what sounded like a complaint, there was not a trace of anger on her fair face.

"The conflict between the Jesuits and the Thirteen Courts is deeply rooted. The reason they are willing to look for you is probably because they know you are hard to find." The man took a deep drag on his cigarette and then slowly exhaled the smoke.

"So I can't go back. Sometimes I'm fed up with the religious divisions within our Christianity. From the very beginning of original Christianity, we split into Greek Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, and oh yes! Coptic Orthodoxy. Our Roman Orthodoxy was then further divided into Anglicanism, Lutheranism, Calvinism..."

"Behind them all is politics, the power struggle of ambitious people. His Holiness the Bishop and I once shared the same dream: to make religion pure and to let faith truly protect the people." She was a true idealist, and Otto was a staunch follower of hers.

PS1: Garibaldi's expedition of a thousand men has begun.

Chapter 317 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 33 The Journey of the Holy Throne (Seeking Votes)

Unfortunately, as he grew older, Otto realized that nothing in the pursuit of "rightness" is pure. These seemingly pure things are merely what people behind the scenes deliberately show to others. From that moment on, Otto embarked on a completely different path from hers, as he transformed into a true realist.

So, can idealists and realists coexist? The answer can be seen in the relationship between Otto and her: a realist can accommodate an idealist because he understands that compromise with reality is to better serve the ideal; but an idealist cannot accommodate a realist because she cannot tolerate any betrayal that deviates from the ideal.

"Lord Otto really cares about you." The man named Siegfried stood up, spat the smoke from his mouth onto the ground, and then stomped on it hard with his boots.

“Siegfried, some questions are better addressed by considering his future than by seeking superficial answers. Your parents gave you the name of the dragon-slaying hero, hoping you would be like him, fearless and striving forward. The same applies to my relationship with the bishop. I understand her obsession with me, but responsibility compels me to choose a different path from his.” This was her choice: rather than openly severing ties with that man, it was better to leave at the right time.

"By the way, Siegfried, did you know that the Holy See once had three of the most powerful knightly orders in Europe (St. John, the Teutonic Knights, and the Temple Knights)? But do you know why only our Order of St. John has been able to survive for hundreds of years?" The woman faced the sea breeze, stood on tiptoe, and then opened her arms to walk to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know." Siegfried shook his head somewhat blankly. Although he knew the answer, he wanted to confirm it with the woman in front of him.

"Because poverty spurs us on, yet wealth corrupts our knightly order (the Templars); because a knightly order that aims to protect ultimately resorts to aggression and force (the Teutonic Knights); only we uphold protection, faith, and helping those in distress as our unchanging principles." (The pirate knights speak with such conviction!)

“Siegfried! Now I entrust the Knights of St. John to you. Although our forefathers lost Jerusalem, Acre, Cyprus, Rhodes, and Malta, as long as our banner remains and our faith remains, then you and I will be immortal.” With that, Karen leaped from the tower, which was dozens of meters high, in a manner that resembled a leap of faith.

"Yes, Lady Karen." Siegfried placed his right hand on his chest, offering the woman a standard knightly salute to bid her farewell.

"Goodbye, Saintess Karen," the man then added in a low voice.

As Karen departed, beneath the azure sea and sky, several warships bearing the red and white cross flag of the Savoy dynasty slowly sailed into Messina's harbor. The man looked down at the fleet below, a smile appearing on his lips.

For Bishop Otto, this moment marked the turning of the dice, a new storm about to engulf the entire Apennine Peninsula, at which point the millennia-long power struggles within the Roman Catholic Church would be eradicated.

Meanwhile, outside of this storm in southern Italy—

The dutiful Sister Durandal, a warrior of the Thirteen Courts, accompanied by her esteemed Holy See, spent several months finally arriving in Paty, a small town twenty kilometers west of Budapest. They had endured countless hardships to reach this place.

Why did it take so long? This is due to the relentless pursuit of the Roman Catholic Church like mad dogs and the unscrupulous Venetian merchants who were full of trickery.

On the very night that Durandal took the Pope away, the entire Papal Guard was mobilized to block every important pass in the old city of Rome. However, Bishop Otto had already found a secret passage for them to slip out of the city, a passage that had been used to cover the Pope's escape during the Sack of Rome (the 1527 mutiny and sack of Rome by Charles V's army).

The horses prepared outside the city were also the tools for their escape. Under the cover of night and with Durandal's skillful riding, the two of them galloped nearly a hundred miles in one night. The poor warhorse not only carried the weight of the two of them, but one of them also had a huge cross base (a magical artifact) in his luggage. Then, at dawn the next day, it died of exhaustion.

Having lost their mount, Durandal was forced to walk for two days with the Holy See, hoping to resupply with new horses in the towns they passed through. During this time, she was forced to act as the Holy See's two-legged companion, carrying her for dozens of kilometers because a young girl who was too weak to walk. On the very night they arrived in a town, they encountered bounty hunters, and a battle ensued. After Durandal killed four of them, they were forced to flee the town without time to buy supplies and continued their journey north.

As if things weren't bad enough, they encountered bandits spawned by the war. Durandal, who hadn't slept for days, collapsed from hunger and exhaustion without even paying for medical treatment. Theresa, also hungry, was forced to surrender. Although the bandits held two beauties, one large and one small, they had no intention of harming them. After all, those dressed so elegantly were either noble ladies or daughters of wealthy merchants. Rather than using them to satisfy their lewd desires, they preferred to extort money from their families or sell them for a good price in Florence.

The two arrived in Florence by hitchhiking, and then easily shook off their pursuers with a little trick. They also stole two fast horses along the way and continued to move northeast. Along the way, they encountered Jesuit spies several times, but fortunately, ordinary people could not do anything to them.

After that, they arrived in Venice, but after crossing the canal, they were swindled out of all their money by cunning Venetian merchants, leaving them stranded in the city. They then spent nearly a month wandering around the island before finally leaving the city. It wasn't that they were truly unable to leave, but rather that they were delayed by evading spies sent by the Papacy to find them.

During their journey, the two relied on each other for survival. Theresa pawned her white silk robe, while Durandal pawned her cloak and jewelry. Dressed in tattered linen clothes, they begged and traveled, covered in dust and with nowhere to bathe. Even from a distance, they could be smelled, emanating a sour stench like rotting fruit.

However, since they started dressing like this, no spies or bounty hunters have come looking for them. After all, who would have thought that the Holy See of the Roman Catholic Church and the spiritual leader of a billion believers worldwide would be begging on the streets like a beggar?

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 318 The Fall of St. Stephen's Crown: Capter 34 The Suffering of the World (Seeking Votes)

“My lord, Budapest is just a few dozen kilometers away. Then we can end this escape.” Durandal took a deep breath and said with some emotion. Theresa was following closely behind Durandal. The two beggars, one big and one small, walked down the street.

"Yes, thank you for your hard work, Durandal." Theresa held a small bowl with a chipped corner in her small hands and looked at the blonde lady walking in front of her. Although Theresa was Durandal's aunt by seniority, Durandal really couldn't regard the little Holy Throne as her elder.

"Please wait a moment, you two." At this moment, the old woman who was cleaning the dust in the shop called out to the two passers-by and then handed them a basket of bread.

"This?" Durandal looked at the woman in front of her with some surprise. She really didn't understand why this strange woman would hand her a basket of freshly baked bread.

"Here, have this for you and your daughter. Your daughter is so young and already so grown up; she must have suffered a lot." The old woman held Yulandel's hand with some sympathy, her eyes filled with understanding.

“She is not…” Yulandal pursed her lips, wanting to refute. For the first time, she showed restraint and discomfort in front of outsiders, despite her usually aloof image.

For her, the response to malice has always been absolute violence, and she has always been in the vortex of so-called violence. As for kindness, she is not very comfortable with it.

“I understand, I know what you want to say. No one would admit to having a ten-year-old child when you are such a beautiful young woman.”

You are stronger than many others, raising her all by yourself. The old woman covered Durandal's mouth with her index finger, then smiled and half-squatted down to look at the lovely silver-haired girl in front of her.

"What's your name?" The old woman gently stroked Theresa's head, appearing exceptionally tender and kind.

“Theresa, my name is Theresa Apocalypse.” As the Pope and God’s representative on earth, how could she, being so devout, possibly thwart the kindness of a complete stranger? Since that’s what she thought, she might as well go along with it, and besides, the bread looked delicious.

The two first picked up their water glasses, intending to take a sip to moisten their throats before having a good chat with the old woman, as a way of thanking her for the delicious bread.

"Is Apocalypse your father's surname?" the old woman asked, puzzled.

"puff!"

"Pfft!" Durandal and Theresa tacitly spat out the water they had just drunk.

“Apocalypse is my adoptive grandfather’s surname!”

“Yes, madam, Apocalypse is not my husband’s name.” Durandal said the two words with some difficulty. Her slightly furrowed brows showed that she was not in a good mood, because she actually did not like the bishop. But she had to play her part and couldn’t undermine her leader.

"Aren't you her mother? Why would you let your child be adopted by someone else? Was it for money? Did that old geezer do something to you...?" There's no such thing as prime-time 7 PM drama in this era. Who knows where this woman got such a bizarre 7 PM drama plot from?

At this moment, the old woman was unaware that Durandal was staring at her with a dark expression. Her right hand was already trying to pull out a weapon from the sleeve of her coarse linen clothes, and then physically silenced the old woman.

“Madam, why don’t I see your husband and children? It must be very difficult for you to run a shop alone.” Theresa reached out and took Durandal’s hand, then looked into her shop. The small bakery, though not large, was still quite a feat for an elderly woman.

“My husband passed away more than twenty years ago. He died in the First Italian War, when he served under Marshal Radetzky. My only son and I also died in Italy not long ago. He joined the Imperial Army like his father, but unlike his father, he served under Princess Gisela. He was much luckier than his father. The generous princess gave me a monthly allowance for living expenses, and her pension allowed me to open this bakery.” The old woman took off her glasses and, with some emotion, took out a handkerchief to gently wipe the lenses.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you mentioned something that upset you.” Theresa lowered her head, looking somewhat dejected, while Durandal’s expression was equally grave.

“You may have been wondering why I suddenly helped you. Actually, I just saw my past self in you and your daughter. I did many dishonorable things to raise my beloved late husband and my child. I am not a great person, just an ordinary person. I dare not ask for anything more than God’s forgiveness, because I know I am not worthy.”

"Sometimes I wonder, if I had remarried back then and hadn't had the child, would I still be living such a difficult life? The answer is sometimes so simple and easy to understand, but I can't make that decision easily, and the final choice is indeed a path completely opposite to the best outcome."

"So be it, I have nothing left to lose. Now, besides sighing, all that's left is to wait for the day when I am called by the Lord. If only I could go to Rome in person to confess my sins to His Holiness the Pope." The old woman continued to murmur as if to herself.

“Yes, madam, His Holiness the Holy See will hear your confession, and at the end of your life, when you face judgment, that great one will surely convey your thoughts to the Lord in all fairness.” The little girl clasped her hands tightly to her chest, her eyes slowly closing, her voice ethereal and holy. At that moment, in the heart of this kind-hearted old woman, she was as sacred as an angel.

During her escape, Theresa witnessed countless joys and sorrows, learned of the suffering and hardship of the common people, and discovered that the outside world was completely different from what the clergy of the Papacy had described. The so-called earthly paradise was the biggest lie in the world. If he hadn't left Rome, he probably would never have known these things...

"Theresa, it's getting late, we have to go," Durandal whispered to Theresa.

“It’s good that you’re so kind, Madam. We have the chance to meet again.” Theresa nodded gently and then followed the blonde older sister away.

"May the Lord bless you, child," the old woman said.

PS1: That's just how times are; sometimes you can understand the suffering of ordinary people.

Chapter 319 The Fall of St. Stephen's Crown: Capter 35 The Operation in Budapest (Vote Requested)

“Rita, this is the financial report Hannah recently gave me. On page 23, there’s the Setanti family, and on page 35, the Pace family. There’s a serious discrepancy between their recent account expenditures and actual spending. I won’t comment too much on the former family since they’re not very powerful, but I think we need to pay attention to the latter, the Pace family.” As their name suggests, the Pace family was the city on the right bank of the Danube before the merger of the two cities of Budapest, and they were once the lords of that land.

As a key figure in the Árpád family, which established the Kingdom of Hungary, he played a pivotal role in Hungarian history, perhaps comparable to Carolingian Moses in importance, the biggest difference being that the former did not usurp the throne. (Carolingian Moses' ancestor was the mayor of the palace, but later successfully seized power.)

"Young Master, do you suspect they're using these funds to support actions unfriendly to the Empire?" Rita asked, following behind Gisela as she carefully examined the contents of the document.

It's worth mentioning that Gisela wasn't dressed in a dress today, but rather in a sharp men's outfit. A black hat concealed her fox ears, and her long, blond hair was skillfully tied back. Her already delicate features, combined with the fake mustache she wore, created a striking and handsome look. This attracted rather intense glances from many passing women, but Gisela remained unfazed, knowing her own charm perfectly well.

“Yes, after all, the Hungarian uprising a few years ago really caught the Empire off guard. Unlike the rebellion of 1848, which was mostly composed of commoners and lower-ranking nobles, the coup d'état staged by Count Andrássy in 1867 involved many high-ranking Hungarian nobles. Most of them had received considerable favors from the Habsburg family during the reign of Empress Theresa. Who would have thought they would turn out to be such ingrates?” Gisela sighed helplessly, because she knew all too well that the selfish desires of human beings could never be satisfied.

She was certainly aware of her father's biggest shortcomings.

Emperor Joseph's methods were far from benevolent; he had zero tolerance for any nationalists who attempted to divide the empire. In Vienna, Prague, Milan, and Venice, imperial spies constantly monitored the people's thoughts, and newspapers were always under censorship.

He used bayonets to force the people to obey, but he was powerless against the nobles who truly threatened the country's rule. Compromise, compromise, and compromise again. As he repeatedly yielded to the other side, these people who used the banner of the nation and the people to pursue their own selfish desires had quietly become national heroes. In the end, these people would only become more and more ruthless.

In fact, the lives of ordinary people have not changed at all; poverty and hunger still plague them. At this time, creating an enemy is the best way to divert their attention. This enemy is Emperor Joseph, who is a foreign ruler, and the imperial government.

"Damn Hungarians, I wish I could uproot all these poisonous weeds!" Rita frowned, her words filled with displeasure. She looked at the people coming and going on the street, who at this moment seemed like enemies to her.

“Rita, please remember that the people of Hungary have never been my enemies. Our enemies are only a small number of ambitious people, and I welcome all nations that support the rule of the Empire.” The Magyars make up only one-seventh of the Empire’s population, and for the sake of that one-seventh, Joseph has actually offended the vast majority of the Empire’s subjects.

Why? Hungarians have privileges while we Italians, Poles, Czechs... don't? These things are either given to none of us, or we all have to be given them. Why couldn't Joseph do it? Because he had to consider the feelings of the Austrian and Hungarian nobles. But Gisela wasn't Joseph. She possessed wisdom beyond her time, allowing her to deduce a better reform plan: establishing a federal empire.

First, dismantle the current Greater Hungary. Second, redivide the empire into new administrative regions according to the ethnic distribution of the empire, rather than dividing it according to the old kingdom territories of the feudal era.

Each region within the Empire establishes a local government in accordance with the Federal Constitution, based on its own ethnic composition and the delineation of the region. These local governments are allowed to enjoy a degree of autonomy and to have local laws that do not violate the Imperial Constitution. Local officials can be elected by the local people, but must be approved and governed by the highest government of the Empire.

Hereditary nobles, while retaining their original fiefdoms, were required to submit to local government administration. The Imperial Parliament, with seats allocated proportionally to population, completely broke the former Austrian aristocracy's absolute monopoly on the parliament, indirectly providing a platform for more commoners to express their opinions and creating space to check the nobility. The remaining political structure could essentially be modeled after a dualistic system.

Of course, it doesn't matter whether he becomes a monarch or a president in the future. After all, his obsession with power has not reached that pathological level. And since he is a demon wielder, he has too many paths to choose from. At worst, if the reform fails, fleeing to the East would also be a viable strategy.