The War Court and Lap Pillow, Austria's Mandate of Heaven

Chapter 1203: Venting Bitterness
Franz was also disappointed by the performance of Kronini Wilburg. Born into a military aristocracy, he had been brave and aggressive since childhood. He had conflicts with others many times and beat them to the point of serious injury and near death. Except in front of Franz, he was usually a reckless person and could be said to be full of banditry.

Before 1848, Franz put Cronini into his Royal Dragoon Regiment, hoping that the latter's experience in the army would help him change his temper.

However, the latter was not highly regarded in the Royal Dragoon Regiment and many of his professional skills were not up to standard.

But he was a thorn in the flesh and had his own ideas. He wrote letters all day long demanding improvements to the training methods of the dragoons. He often fought with others and even went against his superiors.

When Franz saw the comments about being unorganized and undisciplined, he felt that something was going to happen, but he thought about the Hollywood military movies he had watched. Isn't this a perfect template for the protagonist?
Maybe Kronini Wilburg is the talent buried by history?

Before the war began, Franz met his childhood playmate again, who already had his own small group around him.

Due to the power of the Wilburg family and its relationship with Franz, the officers of the Royal Dragoon Regiment really had no way to deal with him.

When Cronini showed off his achievements, Franz's face turned black.

After hearing about Franz's marching plan, Cronini immediately expressed his opposition because the plan was too crazy. There were hundreds of thousands of rebels in Venice, while the Royal Dragoon Regiment and the Tyrol Guards had only more than 5,000 people in total. Doing so would be tantamount to suicide.

Franz had heard too many objections, so he didn't take it too seriously.

However, in the first battle of the Royal Dragoons entering Venice, Cronini secretly changed the marching route and did not advance along the main road, but chose a hidden path.

They spent the night in the village again, but were attacked by the Redwood Army that was following them. Kronini deserted on the spot, and the reconnaissance team that lost its commander was ultimately wiped out.

Fortunately, the entire Venetian battlefield was in chaos at the time, with all kinds of news flying around, and Franz did not stop to wait for the missing reconnaissance team, but took the initiative to lead the main force directly to Venice City to avoid the situation from worsening.

Imagine if Kronini and his men were captured and revealed Franz's plan, and Franz was merciful enough to decide to wait there.

At the same time, there was a person who could coordinate all the rebels of different factions and mobilize enough troops to encircle and suppress Franz. The city of Venice completed the rebellion before Franz arrived. He was also able to guess the retreat route Franz had reserved for himself and sent troops to cut off the support of the Austrian Empire's follow-up troops and another elite marine corps from the port direction.

Then the rebels might be able to block Franz's troops outside the city of Venice, but with the equipment and combat power of the Royal Dragoon Regiment, it would not be a problem to deal with four or five times the number of rebels in a field encounter. To retain this elite force with each man riding two horses, at least ten times the number of troops would be needed.

To complete the above deployment, all the rebel forces in Venice need to work together, and the force size must be at least 200,000.

Although this possibility is very small, it still provides the rebels with the possibility of victory. The Wilburg family paid a huge price to send Kronini to a mental hospital to save his life.

Franz didn't like gambling at all, so Cronini would spend the rest of his life in a mental hospital.

A trace of unpleasant memories came to his mind, and Franz breathed a sigh of relief. The great rebellion of 1848 was a mirror that exposed the truth. Even many of the heirs carefully cultivated by the big families were rotten to the core and beyond redemption.

The rotten flesh and bad blood must be removed, along with the cancer that only eats away.

It seemed that Franz still had a long way to go in his mission. He withdrew his thoughts and looked at Akadof von Leibsteinsky in front of him.

The experience in the colony made Akadov much more mature and stronger.

"You're doing well in the Central American colonies?"

"Thanks to your majesty, I didn't die. The mosquitoes there are bigger than sparrows, the rats look like pigs, there are wild beasts everywhere, and there are natives who are more terrible than wild beasts.

I guarantee you won’t be able to endure that kind of hell for even a day.”

Akadov complained bitterly, but Franz just smiled and said nothing.

"What have you learned?"

The former was speechless for a moment and didn't know what to say. Seeing that the latter was a little impatient, the former immediately said, "I have done a lot of things and suffered a lot. I led the troops to suppress the rebellious natives and the dishonest Japanese."

Franz shook his head.

"Suffering is not the purpose of work. The more you can endure, the more suffering you will endure. Go to the Royal Military Academy for further studies for a few years, and then come back to me."

"I"

Akadov hesitated to speak.

"Go ahead. Don't let me down."

Akadov finally lowered his head.

“Your starting point is higher than others, and you should be more outstanding, but your resume is only mediocre.

Now you understand why I asked you what you learned."

Akadov nodded as if he understood, and Franz felt helpless.

"Visit the elderly more often, read more books, and go to fewer dances and banquets. You will understand."

As soon as Akadov opened the door, Richard Metternich walked in. He was wearing a white suit and a pink handkerchief in his breast pocket. He walked in with a light step.

"Richard, you're still the same. How's life at the Foreign Office?"

"Franz, look at the folly they have done. These fellows have no knowledge of the art of diplomacy, and they are willing to fight our only ally.

It's a problem that can be solved by sitting down to have a meal, a drink, and a dance, but they insist on turning it into a national dispute!

The current passive situation is entirely caused by these idiots!"

"Then why didn't you stop them?"

"Oh my God! Franz, they want to kill me too! And they call me a sissy! How dare they degrade a romantic man like me like this!

Please let me leave the Ministry of Foreign Affairs! Or let me reorganize the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."

Franz smiled. He also knew some of the recent events in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

"Want to do something in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? Are you qualified enough?"

“They also”

"They are them. Can you do what you want to do without qualifications? And the current prime minister is Prince Schwarzenberg. Your ideas are obviously incompatible."

“But it was the same in the past.”

“In the past, my uncle Ferdinand I was in power. How could it be possible for the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister to have the same ideas?

This is my time, and I need this country to put its power where it needs to be, instead of wasting it on internal checks and balances.”