Chapter 70: Presidential Government - Guardians of the Revolution (2)
Raphael Ballian, stationed at the Northern Army Headquarters, was receiving a
report with an incredulous expression.
“What did you say?”
“Th-that... Bishop Richelieu has suddenly fallen into a coma, causing the
planned indictment to fall through.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
How could the man who was perfectly fine this morning suddenly be in a coma?
It was absurd, yet what happened had happened.
Ballian reached out in resignation and knocked over his bishop on the
chessboard.
Everything had been flowing perfectly according to plan at the most opportune
moment, and now the bishop, who was crucial in legitimating their cause, had
failed?
Could luck be this bad?
“Heh.”
A hollow laugh escaped him.
According to the plan, Bishop Richelieu was to accuse the National Assembly of
election fraud, rallying the citizens with his influence, leading the military
to dissolve the Assembly.
In the absence of the Duke of Lafayette, they would overturn the National
Assembly by slandering them with election fraud, announce a new constitution,
and hold elections. Disappointed with the National Assembly, the citizens
would surely support him, the hero of the republic.
Once in control of the regime, the plan was to coax Lafayette, and if that
failed, reluctantly purge him along with Richelieu.
“This is maddening.”
Now, with the loss of their moral high ground, is it even possible to
backpedal?
The plan was to blame Richelieu if things went south, but now, with Richelieu
in this state, can they simply release Dezy, declaring it a misunderstanding
and move on without anyone to take responsibility? It seemed too easy at
first.
Unfortunately, who could have anticipated things would become this entangled?
No, could such timing and events be merely attributed to bad luck?
“Commander!”
Ballian’s brooding was interrupted by a subordinate’s report.
“What now?”
“Emergency standby orders have been issued to all units in the Southern Army!”
“How could that be?”
Louis Dezy has already been secured.
Without anyone to issue commands to the entire Southern Army, how could this
be possible?
“It was issued under the name of Duke Lafayette...”
“What?”
Duke Lafayette had certainly left the capital.
It was only after they had infiltrated a spy into the entourage accompanying
the ambassadors and confirmed that the Duke was moving away from the capital
with them, that they acted.
It was impossible for the Duke, who had left for formal diplomatic
negotiations, to have returned to the capital so soon, and even if it were
possible, it’s unlikely he would take such action.
Would he really risk the backlash from his own Central Party and undo the
difficult alliance he had barely managed to secure with the support of the
revolutionaries, all on his own accord?
Such an act would spell the end of the Duke’s political career.
Then, who could it be?
“Ha.”
There’s only one person capable of doing this.
A person known by everyone to be absolutely trusted by Pierre de Lafayette.
Ballian’s gaze shifted to the chessboard.
Towards the queen standing tall on the opponent’s side.
If the Countess of Aquitaine issued orders prepared in Lafayette’s name, the
Southern Army would follow them as if they were the Duke’s own, disregarding
the chain of command.
It was merely for amusement, a game, yet there was certainly an opponent
sitting across the chessboard.
An emergency standby order? An unnecessary command.
It wasn’t about taking action with the Southern Army, but showing that it
could be done.
This order was a declaration of war.
A demonstration that they knew exactly what he was up to and had no intention
of just letting it go.
Misfortune?
Ballian was certain at this moment.
The Black Witch had definitely read their intentions and removed Richelieu to
obstruct them.
Though how she did it remains unknown, it was a warning that he could be
targeted in the same manner.
“Commander...?”
Looking at his subordinates gathered here, Ballian burst into laughter.
“Haha, hahaha! Splendid!”
“Commander?”
Hadn’t he thought it would be disappointing and regrettable if they were
merely to suffer without knowing anything?
A shiver ran through Ballian’s entire body.
Duke Lafayette had dared to try and ensnare him, Raphael Ballian.
Believing he would win, he had placed the woman he was so closely entwined
with onto this chessboard.
Ballian sat down in front of the chessboard.
“Alright, let’s see how this goes.”
With respect for the enemies who had cornered him, Ballian lifted a pawn.
“Now, let’s see—have we come this far?”
* * *
In the eastern regions of the Kingdom of Francia, Lorraine.
Upon receiving orders from Raphael Ballian, Alexandre Werther led the main
force of the Northern Army stationed at the border and set out.
With the mobilization orders of wartime now lifted, the military forces
stationed in Lumiere, whether from the Northern or Southern Army, were few.
The elite forces experienced from the last war were mostly stationed along the
border with the Germanian Empire.
Pawns. In chess, they seem insignificant at first, offering little immediate
advantage, but upon reaching the end of the board, they can become any piece –
the ultimate hidden card.
Werther’s border guard unit of the Northern Army, summoned by Ballian for such
a contingency, played the role of these pawns.
And Werther, their commander, was frowning at the road ahead.
More precisely, at Count Damien de Mirbo, who stood awkwardly on the road,
scratching his head.
“Count Mirbo, what exactly are you doing right now?”
“Training, training. Haha.”
Werther turned his head slightly to glance at the Southern Army, who were
leisurely blocking the road, sitting around in various places, killing time.
“You’re not just off the road but blocking it, and you’re sitting there; what
kind of training is that...”
“Ah, just feeding the boys. Training’s gotta have its lunchboxes, right?
Haha.”
Damien spoke shamelessly, and Werther looked again at the Southern Army, who
were leisurely killing time.
“It doesn’t look like they’re eating.”
“We started with training, planning to receive food supplies later, but it
seems these guys are running late. I’ll have to scold them later!”
“Then, could you please make way for our troops to pass and have your meal
later-”
“What? After a tough training session, I finally allowed them a break for a
meal, and if I delay it, what kind of complaints would I get?”
‘Don’t you see our troops here complaining about you?’
Werther swallowed the words that had risen to his throat with difficulty and
then spat out, as if chewing them.
“If you do not clear the road immediately, the Northern Army will-”
However, before he could finish, the Southern Army’s food arrived.
“Oh, here it is! It’s here! Boys, the food’s here!”
“Oh, ooooh-!”
Seeing the Southern Army openly starting fires to prepare their meal and
beginning to devour their lunchboxes, Alexandre Werther was on the verge of
bursting with rage.
‘Damn it, should I just wipe them all out?’
Whether it was a leak of information or something else, the Southern Army, in
comparison to the well-prepared Northern Army, appeared to have just scrambled
together without proper equipment or supplies.
However, Werther took a deep breath and calmed his anger.
After all, only a very few within the Northern Army’s leadership were aware of
Ballian’s coup d’état plans.
If he suddenly ordered an attack on friendly forces, it could cause unrest
among his troops and, at worst, lead to a civil war.
That was not a decision he could make unilaterally. A misstep could even lead
to Ballian in the capital being accused of treason.
Ultimately, grinding his teeth, Werther had to send a messenger to the capital
for instructions.
Of course, it’s not as if Damien was at ease.
He was trembling with anxiety, watching his subordinates leisurely blocking
the road and eating their lunchboxes, worried that the Northern Army might
attack.
As soon as Christine from the Northern Army headquarters sent a messenger to
the east, she also urgently dispatched a messenger to Damien in the Southern
Army.
Naturally, any response would inevitably be delayed, and upon seeing the
orders Christine had sent, Damien was shocked into hastily dragging out his
unprepared troops to block the road.
‘Countess of Aquitaine, that witch-like woman!’
Damien shivered, recalling the threats written in Christine’s orders.
He had forgotten, having joined the revolutionary government after renouncing
the rights of Count de Mirbo, but there was a tax right that she had extracted
from him when he was first captured as a prisoner by Duke Lafayette.
Christine had ordered him to hinder the Northern Army by any means necessary,
threatening to bill him for the amount corresponding to that tax right if he
failed.
Consequently, Damien de Mirbo trembled with resentment and fear, desperately
pondering how to further hinder and delay the Northern Army.
Of course, it was all his own doing.
* * *
In Lumiere, as the afternoon wore on amidst a fierce battle of wits.
Raphael Ballian sat in the Northern Army command room, glaring at the
chessboard.
Ballian had to acknowledge his opponent eventually.
He wouldn’t lose in a tactical battle on the field.
But what was unfolding now was ultimately a contest of intelligence and
political strategy, a battle of prepared moves.
The opponent, whom he had at best considered merely a political partner and
lover of Duke Lafayette, was responding flawlessly, as if she had anticipated
every move he could possibly make.
Ultimately, Ballian had no choice but to decide to secure Christine Aquitaine.
While it might be possible to somehow cover up the forceful actions against a
lower-ranking military member like Louis Dezy, using his rank, framing and
arbitrarily detaining a member of the National Assembly, Countess Aquitaine,
would certainly not be so easily dismissed.
Though Ballian internally refused to acknowledge anyone but Duke Lafayette as
his equal, it was bitter to admit that this formidable woman had finally
dragged him into a position where he could not move without making a gamble.
“Commander!”
Seeing the adjutant enter hastily and salute, Ballian frowned, then chuckled
and asked.
“What bad news is it this time?”
“A messenger from General Nicolas, who was headed to the Aquitaine residence,
has arrived. It’s, well...”
“Spit it out. I’m busy.”
“The Lady Saintess is performing a concert in front of the Aquitaine
residence, and there’s no way to push through the crowd...”
“Heh. Hahaha, hahahaha! That’s brilliant!”
Using the Saintess as a shield?
As Raphael burst into laughter, the adjutant glanced at him and asked.
“General Nicolas is asking if he should forcefully suppress and secure her,
what should I tell him?”
“Are you mad? Tell him to withdraw. We absolutely cannot lay hands on the
Saintess.”
Even if the coup succeeded, if a crazed Duke Lafayette decided to die
together, it would lead to sleepless nights.
That’s why he had been so insistent that Christine Aquitaine must not be
harmed, not even a hair, when he sent his men to secure her.
But to lay hands on the Saintess in front of the citizens? That would be no
different from suicide, seen by the entire nation and even his own
subordinates who adore her.
“Ha, hahaha...”
Raphael Ballian chuckled derisively as he picked up the opponent’s bishop from
the chessboard and placed it beside his queen.
“Wow, is this a complete check? When and how much did that woman figure out
about our plans?”
“Commander!”
At another subordinate’s call, Ballian chuckled.
“What is it this time?”
“The National Assembly has been convened. It seems to be due to the events
that occurred today...”
“Haha...”
Nothing strange about that.
The acting commander of the Southern Army was detained by the Northern Army,
and while it didn’t lead to a civil war, the ongoing nerve war and battle of
wits with Christine Aquitaine continued to such an extent that even those in
the capital, reluctantly, came to realize something was unfolding.
“Actually, this is better.”
Ballian stood up and put on his hat.
Admittedly, that woman is a monster on their side.
But it would be different if it turned into a battle between armies.
Did she push this far because she believed she could handle someone like him?
Being cornered yet feeling more alive than ever surely isn’t normal.
“Commander?”
“Call the troops together.”
“Yes, sir! Understood!”
Given the circumstances, he plans to forcefully dissolve the National Assembly
and push through.
Even if it means abandoning the plan to win the citizens’ support through
elections, creating a beautiful spectacle, he must seize control of the
government and neutralize the Southern Army before Duke Lafayette returns.
Ballian had intended to avoid a civil war at all costs, but at this moment, he
even erased that thought from his mind.
Even if it means shedding blood, this country should not be governed by an
incompetent assembly that’s busy undermining its own flesh, but by a greater
hero.
It’s all or nothing now.
“The die is cast.”
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