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Chapter 238: Filling the Last Gap

Joseph was enjoying the distant, undulating foothills of the Alps—admiring the scenery was almost his greatest pleasure during the march—when he suddenly noticed a cannon stuck ahead and immediately spurred his horse to gallop over.

The soldiers, straining with all their might to drag the cannon, noticed a slightly shorter figure approaching. They turned to look and immediately grew excited: "It's His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince!"

"The Crown Prince is here to help me pull the cannon!"

"Be careful over there, don't let His Highness get hurt..."

"Everyone, put your backs into it! Let His Highness see our strength!"

The number of soldiers pulling the cannon hadn't increased, yet the cannon, which had been stubbornly unmoving, suddenly lurched forward. The nearly one-and-a-half-ton 12-pounder cannon instantly broke free from the melting ice pit.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" The soldiers cheered again, all of them beaming with smiles, raising their hats in salute to the Crown Prince.

Joseph nodded in return, then brushed the dirt from his hands and remounted his horse.

In truth, how much strength could his less-than-fifteen-year-old frame truly exert? But every soldier would remember the moment their Crown Prince helped them pull the cannon, and this would, in turn, transform into soaring morale on the battlefield.

However, Joseph's current campaign with the army wasn't merely to provide a "morale boost." The task he intended to accomplish, if he didn't personally oversee it, his officers might not dare to fully commit.

After marching for a while longer, dusk began to settle. The Guards Corps began to set up camp and eat dinner.

Perna led the newly formed nurse company, driving several carriages through the camp.

Along the way, the nurses called out in clear voices: "Remember to drink hot water!"

"Anyone who drinks cold water won't be allowed to listen to Lorena sing later."

"Over here, who hasn't gotten water yet?"

At the same time, they skillfully scooped boiling water from the wooden barrels on the carriages and distributed it to the laughing, whistling soldiers.

Joseph also took a cup from Perna. 'Hmm, hot tea today. The military doctor has already taken over the Crown Prince's personal physician duties, and now she's trying to take Eman's job.'

Just as Joseph was about to enjoy his tea, he saw a messenger galloping from the north.

Eman took the letter from the messenger and presented it to Joseph: "Your Highness, it's from Versailles."

Joseph saw Archbishop Brienne's personal seal on the envelope. He took a sip of tea and said, "Read it aloud."

"Yes, Your Highness." Eman opened the envelope and quickly scanned its contents. "Your Highness, Archbishop Brienne says he is still holding daily meetings, as you requested, to discuss 'how to reconcile with the military as quickly as possible.'"

Joseph smiled and nodded.

He knew very well that Versailles had many military nobles acting as informants. This tactic was meant to make them believe that the Royal Family dared not offend the entire military and was currently looking for a way to back down gracefully.

What he worried about most now was the military suddenly chickening out, collectively coming to Versailles to admit their mistakes. If that happened, it would be difficult to strike them decisively.

Eman continued, "Furthermore, Archbishop Brienne mentioned that Duke of Broglie has already set off for Versailles and has written a letter declaring eternal loyalty to His Majesty the King. General Rossignol has also sent someone to Paris, saying he will arrive shortly."

Joseph was somewhat surprised by this.

He had previously selected several influential military nobles who had not directly participated in the conspiracy. He had written to them in the name of the Royal Family, stating that if they obeyed the King's commands, they would continue to enjoy His Majesty's trust and subtly hinting at important positions.

He had expected that once the military was suppressed, these individuals would likely choose sides again.

After all, he only had twenty thousand troops at his disposal, and there was a severe shortage of generals. He would inevitably need to draw some capable individuals from France's old army whom he could integrate.

But he had originally thought that no one would "defect" until his most crucial move was made. He hadn't expected these generals to have such keen senses, making the "optimal choice" so directly.

Among them, Duke of Broglie was particularly notable. Although quite old and without a large force under his command, he was a Marshal from the time of Louis XV, extremely experienced, and held considerable influence within the army.

After this affair concluded, having him oversee the integration of the old army would be very suitable.

Joseph pondered for a moment, then returned to his tent and wrote a letter to Brienne, instructing him not to publicly announce Duke of Broglie's defection to the Royal Family for the time being, and that he could promise the old man the position of Minister of War.

According to Joseph's military reform plans, a General Staff Headquarters would soon be established. It would be responsible for specific troop deployments and command. The Minister of War would become increasingly insignificant, making the position a perfect bargaining chip for winning allies.

The next morning, the Guards Corps set out once more to the sound of military music.

Joseph gazed south and asked Berthier, who was beside him: "General, how far are we from Montpellier?"

The latter immediately replied: "Ninety-six kilometers, Your Highness."

He added: "We should encounter the Montcalm Legion in three days."

Joseph nodded and took a deep breath. Three more days, and the Royal Family's last weakness would be addressed. By then, no one would be able to stop him from making France soar!

...

Moncontour, Western France.

General Schill, commander of the Paris Legion, calmly surveyed the blood-stained streets. Beside him, soldiers continuously escorted the ringleaders of the riot past.

A legion staff officer galloped up and declared loudly: "General, the rioters on Long Flagstone Street have also been dispersed. There are no more rioters within the city. A total of 122 people have been arrested so far."

General Schill nodded indifferently. 'Brittany, a poor and remote region like this, always produces such unruly people. Even after the Church started distributing food, the rioters continued to cause trouble everywhere, even robbing the Church itself.'

His legion had been tempered on the Flanders border; dealing with these kinds of rioters was child's play.

He looked at the staff officer: "Where's the next riot location?"

"Angrie, west of Anjou, General."

"That's still a considerable distance. Issue orders: rest for half a day, then depart tomorrow morning."

The Paris Legion's mission was to clear out scattered, persistent rioters. They needed to reach as far south as Béarn, so he had to make haste.

While the Paris Legion was clearing the battlefield, a small-scale battle was also taking place near Valence, northeast of Montpellier.

In the town of Hamnet, north of the city, rioters had not yet dispersed. Hundreds surrounded a nobleman's estate, attempting to storm it.

Beside a bell tower to their rear-flank, a sergeant handed his telescope back to the officer next to him, frowning: "Second Lieutenant Buwannaba, we only have fifty men, and they have three to four hundred."

The second lieutenant, however, had a glint of excitement in his eyes. Pointing at the rioters, he addressed the soldiers around him: "What do you see?"

No one spoke.

Second Lieutenant Buwannaba raised his voice: "That is our military achievement!

"The enemy is weak and feeble, while you are seasoned warriors.

"As long as you follow closely behind me, we can crush them in an instant!

"Now, come with me!"

He drew his saber and strode towards the rioters, seemingly without a single thought as to whether the soldiers would follow.