Chapter 704: Heretics, Purge the Heretics!
Stanisław II was going all-in.
In the worst-case scenario, he and officers like Bielak would become Russian prisoners. At the same time, the ten thousand flintlock muskets, thousands of tents, and uniforms intended for the "disarmament" would fall into enemy hands.
But he decided to take the risk.
Bielak's command capabilities had not been outstanding, and the military committee was already considering replacing him.
If he were indeed detained by Korezenikov, another officer would immediately take over the defense of Minsk.
Poland would then disseminate propaganda within the army, claiming that "Bielak was shamelessly detained during negotiations with the Russians," to ignite the soldiers' fighting spirit.
After the King informed him, Bielak immediately accepted this dangerous mission without hesitation.
As for the military equipment and supplies, the Lithuanian Legion had lost over 7,000 soldiers in previous battles, and most of their weapons had been recovered.
Therefore, handing over 10,000 flintlock muskets to the Russians wouldn't significantly impact the Polish army's operations—the Warsaw armory would quickly replenish the missing weapons.
Two more days passed, and Stanisław II, accompanied by officials like Piattoli, ceremoniously departed for Saint Petersburg to formally surrender.
During the ceremony before their departure, numerous Polish journalists passionately conducted interviews, and the scene briefly descended into chaos. However, afterwards, these individuals dispersed and returned to the Committee of Liberty and Security.
The next day, Russian intelligence agents acquired local newspapers from the Polish-controlled Minsk region, which extensively reported the news of "the King traveling to Saint Petersburg to surrender."
These newspapers were swiftly retrieved by agents of the Committee of Liberty and Security, and any few that had leaked were simply dismissed as "mere rumors."
Korezenikov personally led over a thousand soldiers, escorting the Polish King to an audience with the Tsar.
This was primarily because Piattoli had "inadvertently" revealed to him that Morkov had also received news of Stanisław II's impending journey to Saint Petersburg.
To ensure that Morkov wouldn't "hijack" the credit for the Polish King's surrender midway, Korezenikov decided to personally escort him throughout the journey.
The Russian army's offensive immediately ceased, and the Polish soldiers in Minsk finally gained a much-needed opportunity to rest and regroup.
Sitting in his carriage, Stanisław II overheard the Russian soldiers chatting outside, "We'll reach Vitebsk tonight."
He frowned inwardly, '7 days have passed. Warsaw still needs 33 days.'
'But my pace seems a bit too fast,' he thought. 'I need to find a way to slow down...'
That evening, the surrender convoy stopped at a manor on the western outskirts of Vitebsk.
Stanisław II pretended to admire the flower garden with interest. When the Russian soldiers weren't looking, he grabbed a handful of dirt and shoved it into his mouth.
A foul, bitter taste instantly surged through him, as disgusting as excrement. Yet, he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed it with difficulty.
As expected, after dinner, the Polish King developed diarrhea, followed by a fever.
The manor's doctor diagnosed him with dysentery.
All the chefs responsible for dinner were beaten half to death by the manor lord.
The next day, seeing the Polish King, who was vomiting and suffering from diarrhea, almost unconscious, Korezenikov had no choice but to order a temporary halt to their journey.
It took a full week before Stanisław II somewhat regained his vitality.
He sat in the bumpy carriage, weakly gazing out the window, silently repeating to himself, '14 days have passed. Warsaw still needs 26 days.'
...
Vienna.
In Schönbrunn Palace Square, Muzarelli, a Curia Archbishop of the Roman Church, stood on a platform, dressed in an opulent robe and wearing an intricately patterned ceremonial mitre. He addressed over a thousand believers in a sacred and solemn tone.
Behind him stood eleven Archbishops from various Austrian dioceses.
Several deacons consistently held up Muzarelli's various credentials and the Holy See's encrypted seal, proving the authenticity of his identity to the crowd in the square.
Muzarelli's voice resonated, "...Therefore, the Holy See has never intended to interfere in the war between Poland and other nations.
"All talk of 'Crusaders' or a 'Holy War' did not originate from the Holy See, nor is it a divine oracle from God...
"None of you shall spread such blasphemous words again; you must heed the teachings of the Holy See..."
He then proceeded to cite scriptures and historical texts, explaining why the Russo-Polish War did not fall under the category of a Holy War.
About 30 meters away, Mort Schmitz stared intently at the Archbishop, his right fingernails digging into his palm from clenching his fist, his eyes filled with confusion, sorrow, and rage.
His brother was dead.
Though heartbroken, even weeping for days, he understood his brother's choice.
He was even proud of his brother.
Responding to God's revelation, he had sacrificed his life for the Holy War—a sacred and glorious act.
Herbert would surely ascend to heaven under the glory of God, enjoying eternal bliss.
However, that old geezer babbling on the platform, that fellow who claimed to be God's representative, adamantly declared that God had not sent down any revelation to initiate a Holy War!
'If that's the case, what exactly did Herbert die for?'
'A lie? Or sheer folly?'
'No—'
Mort Schmitz furiously tugged at his hair until flecks of blood appeared on his scalp. He could accept his brother's death, but he absolutely could not accept that he died a meaningless, unhallowed death!
'No, Herbert was a Crusader who followed divine oracle!'
'He fought for God!'
'No one can snatch away his glory!'
Mort Schmitz's gaze upon the Archbishop gradually turned icy.
'That old geezer is lying.'
'Yes, he must be lying!'
Mort Schmitz knew that the Emperor had previously forbidden discussing the Crusader Holy War within the military.
It must be the Emperor colluding with the Holy See, concocting this enormous lie, shamelessly stripping Herbert of the glory he deserved.
The Holy See was already notorious, willing to do anything to accumulate wealth—what was a simple lie to them?
The confusion on Mort Schmitz's face vanished instantly, replaced by an iron resolve.
He pushed through the crowd and turned to walk out of Schönbrunn Palace Square.
He had once committed such blasphemous acts for the Emperor's command, even causing his brother's death.
Fortunately, he had been wounded, breaking his left arm, which allowed him to leave the battlefield.
This time, he refused to be wrong again.
He resolved that he must seek justice for his brother.
He would expose the Holy See's lies, and then, on behalf of God, mete out divine punishment to the greedy Pope!
...
Saint Petersburg.
The Winter Palace.
Catherine II's gaze followed a Russian officer's finger to the location of Bryansk on the map, her face darkening ominously. "Seventeen thousand men? That incompetent Morkov, after all this time, still hasn't managed to occupy Mozyr, yet he allowed seventeen thousand Poles to invade Bryansk!"
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