Chapter 547: Chapter 458 “Accomplishing rit
“Your Highness, no enemy forces were found near the Bober River,” Bertier reined in his horse, tipping his hat to Joseph.
“Good, continue to hasten the march,” Joseph nodded in acknowledgnt while lifting a few sheets of paper, “A personal letter from Marshal Lacy, expressing praise and gratitude to the second squadron of the Third Hussars, and he even sent 5,000 florins.”
Bertier broke into a smile: “If they hadn’t covered them in ti, Marshal Lacy’s headquarters might have been overrun by the Prussian Cavalry.
“However, the young n of the Hussar’s second squadron are indeed very brave, with four of them receiving dals. Especially that second lieutenant nad Joachim Murat, who has received the Silver Iris dal for the second ti within six months.”
This ti, Murat had killed three enemy soldiers, captured a Prussian Major, and led his troops to bring Marshal Lacy to safety, nearly earning the Golden Iris dal.
“He truly is an outstanding cavalryman!” Joseph expressed his surprise, yet he was not surprised at all in his heart.
...
This was Murat after all, the historical cavalry chief under Napoleon. He had led tens of thousands of cavalry in a charge at the Battle of Auerstedt, breaking through the Russian central defenses and annihilating several Russian artillery regints, thereby securing a decisive victory.
Such talent could not hide its brilliance anywhere.
Joseph then told Bertier, “I think we can consider an extraordinary promotion for Lieutenant Murat.”
“Yes, Your Highness. In fact, the General Staff has also suggested that we directly promote him to Captain.”
As they were speaking, a courier hastened over and handed a report to Bertier: “General, this is the latest dispatch from Breslau.”
After quickly reading it, Bertier excitedly said to Joseph, “Your Highness, Marshal Lacy’s troops have reached the Breslau fortress and will soon launch an assault. And just as you surmised, the main forces of the Prussian Army are heading to Breslau for reinforcent.”
Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. After so many twists and turns, the situation was finally nearing what he desired — the military power balance between Prussia and Austria had not significantly altered. Once the Duke of Brunswick reached Breslau, they should be able to form a standoff near the fortress.
On his own side, in three more days, they would arrive at the City of Liegnitz. Although Duke Brunswick had left nearly ten thousand troops to defend it, he was approaching with the main forces of the Guard Corps.
The Guard Corps, since its inception, rarely fought with a nurical advantage, so the siege should encounter no unexpected difficulties.
Once he handed over the City of Liegnitz to Marshal Lacy, he could claim a complete “mission accomplished.”
By then, William II, having lost Liegnitz, would surely not rest, and Austria, having just recaptured a province in Silesia, was unlikely to let go.
Both sides would continue to reinforce their troops, leading to a major confrontation at Breslau. anwhile, France could use this ti to develop quietly and even sell supplies to the war-torn regions of Germany.
Alas, for the future of France, even the great Holy Roman Empire must endure hardships.
…
Duke of Brunswick frowned, looking at the gloomy sky, and loudly chastised the soldiers to hasten their pace.
That old fox Lacy dared to raid Breslau under insufficient supplies and completely disrupted his plans.
But the defending force of the Breslau fortress was too small, and even after urgently drawing nearby security forces, there were still fewer than 9,000 n, which could easily be breached by the Austrians.
“God, please don’t let it rain.”
Looking up at the dark clouds again, he heard the rapid hoofbeats, turned his head, and saw a mud-covered courier sprinting towards him, saying with a troubled face, “Marshal, the City of Liegnitz…”
“Has the enemy attacked the City of Liegnitz?”
The courier nodded, “Yes, Marshal. General Auguste had dispatched when the enemy vanguard had already entered the suburbs.”
Duke of Brunswick roared imdiately, “What on earth is Auguste doing?!”
The day before yesterday, a ssenger from the City of Liegnitz had inford him that there were no movents of the enemy troops. Yet, in less than two days, the place had fallen!
His face turned grim as he looked down at the saddle. Just half a month ago, he had triumphantly breached the Austrian line of defense, preparing to end the war in Silesia and return to Potsdam.
Now, however, he was contemplating how to plead guilty to His Majesty the King…
Vienna.
In the luxurious guest room on the second floor of the “Red Boots” brothel, a young woman, adorned with the most fashionable makeup among noblewon, wrapped her arms around Bazel’s neck and looked at him coquettishly, speaking in a flirtatious voice, “Mr. Miller, if you are having trouble ‘standing firm,’ I have so mummy powder here. It’s a bit expensive, but I guarantee it works…”
As she spoke, her hand moved towards his groin.
“Please step aside!” Bazel slapped her hand away, then imdiately bent over the keyhole again.
The prostitute from “Red Boots” was very professional, sticking close to him again and unfastening the buttons on her chest, “Sir, you can ask to do anything…”
Bazel suddenly felt a bit of soreness in his legs and pulled her towards the door, “Then please keep an eye on the room on the side, the one with the statue of Hera in front of it. Let know imdiately if there is any movent.”
“Ah? Oh…” The prostitute reluctantly bent down to look through the keyhole.
Bazel then picked up a small violin used to keep spirits up and quietly started playing.
Soon, the prostitute complained, “Are you interested in Miss Fanny? Then why seek out…”
Fanny was the prostitute working in the room diagonally across.
Bazel replied indifferently, “No, I am after that man.”
“Uh…” The gossip lit up in the prostitute’s eyes, “So you’re here to ‘catch a cheater’?”
“Sort of. Please keep an eye on it.”
“Alright, sir. I’ll certainly help you deal with that ‘faithless man’!”
An hour later, the prostitute, rubbing her sore waist, suddenly whispered in shock, “Mr. Miller, the door, the door is opening!”
Bazel’s eyes suddenly flashed with a cold light, dropping the violin, he took his bag from the coat rack, pushed past the prostitute, and burst through the door.
Baron Walter turned around, entangled with Miss Fanny hanging on him, and suddenly felt an unusual shift in the lighting. He turned his head only to see a man in his mid-thirties watching him fiercely.
“Who are you? What do you want…”
He was speaking when he saw the other pull out a pistol from his bag, aiming directly at his left chest, and his words imdiately turned into “Don’t, don’t do this…”
Bazel whispered in a voice that only the two of them could hear, “Devil, don’t think you can insult Callia just because the Crown Prince of France is not around! Go and repent to God!”
Then, he decisively pulled the trigger, and with a “snap,” the flint fell onto the frizzen.
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