Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 075
Chapter Title: The Married Couple's Scam Squad
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“So... I did come up with the plan, but His Highness Franz agreed to it...”
Austria's bulwark, Europe's greatest strategist Prince Eugene trailed off, while Theresa beamed without hiding her smile.
“It really was a brilliant strategy. I was genuinely impressed, you know?”
“...R-Really?”
“Franz swore he'd only go to places with absolutely no danger, right? That's true too, isn't it?”
“Of course. I could never send him anywhere with even the slightest risk. His Majesty would never allow it either.”
“Perfect. Our imperial house won't just protect Catholicism but the Orthodox Church as well. If we frame it as protectors rather than equals, our Catholic faithful back home will be satisfied too.”
On top of that, it would subtly shake Russia's position as the self-proclaimed head of the Orthodox Church.
Despite being such an outstanding strategy, even Eugene found it hard to meet the eyes of Theresa, who was like a granddaughter to him, as she flashed that adorable smile.
She used to be nothing but a cute, childlike girl, but now she could smile like that—terrifyingly so.
“Then, with His Majesty's approval...”
“Yes. And I'll go with him.”
“Y-Yes... With... Huh? What did you say?”
Startled into slipping back to his old familiar tone, Eugene froze, but Theresa gazed at him calmly and asked.
“The scriptures teach that husband and wife are one body. So if my husband is going, what's wrong with me joining him?”
“W-Well... but that's a bit...”
“You said there's no danger at all, so it won't be risky. Besides, as the Habsburg heiress, my presence might be even more effective. After all, preaching peace and love suits women better than men, doesn't it? I could even come off like a saint.”
Everything she said made perfect sense, leaving even Eugene without a solid counterargument.
He should have shut it down flat with “it's dangerous, so no,” but that would contradict what he'd already said.
“Theresa... no, Your Highness Theresa. Even if it's not dangerous, traveling with the troops will be uncomfortable and grueling. Do you really need to go through that?”
“No. On the contrary, experiencing it firsthand will prevent soldiers from doubting me as a 'mere woman.' A female sovereign who shares and understands the soldiers' hardships—doesn't that sound splendid?”
Splendid. It was splendid, but the problem was how predictably furious the Emperor would be if his daughter went anywhere near the front lines.
And those arrows of blame would undoubtedly fly straight at Eugene, the one who first proposed this plan.
“In my opinion, just sending His Highness Franz would be enough...”
“I think we should set up temporary hospitals or orphanages wherever the army passes, and have me personally distribute formula and holy images there. Then print drawings of it and spread them far and wide. This would work much better with my face than Franz's.”
“Hm... certainly...”
Strategically, it was far superior. Just imagining it, he could already picture the explosive reaction.
As Theresa said, everyone harbors a longing and affection for motherhood.
A woman—especially one as beautiful as Theresa—would make for a far more compelling image than any man.
Some might say looks don't matter, but in reality, they do. A lot.
Franz would promise real power and a future, while Theresa filled in the emotional gap.
Eugene couldn't deny it was the perfect combination, but he let out a deep sigh and vented to the girl he'd cherished like a granddaughter since her childhood—not as the Habsburg heiress.
“It's all fine and good... but in the end, I'm the one who has to convince His Majesty...”
“That's the least you can do.”
Her kind, smiling eyes seemed to say: After all, you tried to keep me and Franz apart—isn't this only fair?
That angelic child had grown so much.
Eugene felt proud yet on the verge of tears.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ It was extremely rare for female royalty in Europe to follow all the way to the battlefield, but not entirely unprecedented.
Naturally, they didn't go to the actual front lines, but there were cases of visiting troops for speeches or accompanying husbands.
It was a dangerous tightrope, but no explanation was needed for how much motivation a queen or empress's appearance gave to soldiers.
Objectively, it was even more effective than a king or crown prince appearing on the front.
Not just boosting morale, but igniting protective instincts to safeguard the queen.
In fact, when Theresa visited the front, the on-site reaction far exceeded my expectations—it was scorching hot.
“Wooooaaah!”
“Lady Theresaee!”
“Uwaaaah! She just looked at me!”
“You idiot, she looked at me! Your Highness Theresaaaa!”
Even though we were far from the forward lines where actual fighting was happening, this near-maniacal fervor showed no signs of cooling.
“For Your Highness Theresa, we'll slaughter every last Muslim scum!”
“Kuhhh! My only regret is not being at the front despite my wounds.”
Hey, I'm right here too— isn't it too much that it's all her name?
It felt like a 9:1 ratio... I never got cheers like this even during the French war. Isn't this overkill?
Of course, Theresa didn't deliver fiery speeches to ignite soldiers' hearts or justify the war.
That was purely my role.
“Hear me! Soldiers of Austria! Suffering Christians of the Balkans! The end of centuries of oppression has finally arrived. Our proud Austrian knights, wielding the sword of the Holy Spirit forged by His Majesty, shall purify this land! We will be liberators of Christianity, and under our empire's embrace, the Balkan Peninsula shall reclaim its freedom of faith!”
“Wooooaaah!”
To ensure as many heard as possible, and rumors spread even faster.
I tirelessly toured regions, declaring the Ottomans cornered and that the empire's elite forces would soon liberate the land.
Meanwhile, Theresa avoided any inflammatory rhetoric, instead visiting wounded in the rear, meeting displaced refugees, or attending services at local churches.
“Dear brothers and sisters. And brave warriors who have protected us with your blood for this land.
Before I am a daughter of Habsburg, I am your sister under the Lord's grace. By the bedsides of you wounded, and beside you who have lost homes yet held to your faith, I have come to realize anew how close human suffering and the power of prayer truly are.”
She'd hesitated, saying she'd never done speeches much, but once she started, her voice flowed as naturally as a river.
Well, the skill that swayed the Hungarian Diet's nobles with one speech during the war hadn't gone anywhere.
“Today, I promise you this. Austria shall be not only the shield of 'the faith of Rome' but of 'all faiths from Jerusalem.' Let differing rites and tongues not become walls between us.
We shall gather the bells tolling from each our steeples and turn them into a chorus of peace that oppresses none. So lose not your courage.
I shall walk this path with you, illuminated by prayer and the light of holy images. May the Lord grant us all strength and mercy.”
“Wooooaaah!”
“Sob sob! I'm glad I'm alive. Long live Lady Theresa!”
One side inciting Christian uprisings, the other warmly embracing all—a two-pronged strategy.
For some reason, her speeches seemed twenty times more effective than mine, but it had to be her beauty, not the quality. Life's so unfair.
Regardless, the effects showed quickly.
“Your Highness! Urgent dispatches pouring in from everywhere. Many regions in Bulgaria are asking if Austrian forces will protect them if they rise up. Macedonia has plenty interested too.”
“We can't protect everywhere, but assure them one thing: the Ottoman main army won't budge.”
“Yes sir! I'll make it clear.”
With Christian revolts breaking out amid their standoff with our army, how would the enemy respond?
Prince Eugene had declared the Ottomans would never split their forces.
Doing so would let our main army sweep in and seize all key strongholds.
But ignoring them might make watchful regions think the Ottomans were truly doomed and rise up.
What was the enemy's only option?
An all-or-nothing soul clash: the “mid gather” strategy.
Win, and the uprisings would quiet. Lose, and it'd be a spectacle.
Of course, if the Ottomans had properly cared for Christians all along, this would fizzle like a storm in a teacup.
Let's see what the local Ottoman sentiments are like.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Ottoman Rumelia territory was broadly divided into five parts.
Rumelia proper.
Bosnia.
Siliistra.
Morea.
And the Archipelago, combining various islands.
Among them, Morea and the Aegean/Ionian islands—Greek regions—were overwhelmingly Orthodox.
Even Muslim-majority Bosnia had shifted to Christian dominance post-18th century.
No massive revolts to upend regions, but petty rebellions and banditry were commonplace.
In this climate, the Holy Roman Emperor and Pope declared liberation for Eastern Christians, marching armies down.
Skepticism at first, but the awakened Austrians were crushing Ottomans with victory after victory.
Now, heir Franz and Theresa were at the front, rallying Christians.
This wasn't the usual drawn-out slog.
Orthodox across the Balkans eyed this war as a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
The first response came, predictably, from the current battlefield: greater Serbia.
Belgrade was already Austria's, and Niš had fallen to Joseph.
Rumors spread: revolt, and arms in three days. Southern Serbia's fate was sealed.
“Rise up, brothers and sisters!”
“Join Austria! Last chance to drive out the Ottoman scum!”
“Burn every Ottoman caravan! Cut their supplies!”
Southern Serbia's mountains already teemed with armed self-defense groups.
They just swapped “plunder” for “liberation war” and ambushed passing Ottoman columns.
The moment Serbia turned, our army's situation became like fighting on home soil.
Joseph and Moritz seized the opportunity.
“Strike the advancing Ottomans!”
“Ottomans have no choice but Niš plain. If rebels hold the valleys, their paths are sealed.”
Sofia's Rumelia main force, obsessed with retaking Niš and massed accordingly, was pushed north like cornered rats.
“Retreat here, and all Rumelia falls to Christian dogs! This is a jihad we cannot yield—sons of the empire, fight with your lives!”
“Allahu Akbar!”
Morale wasn't rock-bottom, but cooking an army whose every move was read was child's play for continent's top generals.
“Kaaaaah!”
“General! They're too strong!”
“Enemies everywhere! Surrounded!”
“Sweep the Muslim scum! General Joseph thirsts for their blood!”
Those who couldn't “give ground when needed” met a glorious end.
Lured by Joseph and Moritz into the kill zone, they charged in with momentum—and spectacularly sprayed blood as they collapsed.
Of course, Ottoman commanders weren't the world's biggest idiots.
No one was blind to minimizing losses by falling back to the border, locking gates, and going full defense.
The issue? Even reduced casualties wouldn't save their necks from the body.
This was no exaggeration—a stark reality.
Post-Kadany: draw meant Mustafa Pasha exiled, stripped of all posts.
After Vienna siege failure: top commander strangled upon return.
Peterwardein: top died in battle, so harsh deputy executed instead.
Ottomans' absurd defeats against Europe often stemmed from commanders' crippled judgment under such pressure.
Whatever the reason, Rumelia's Ottoman army suffered another crushing defeat, news spreading wide.
About a month later.
In the Ottoman capital, Constantinople (Istanbul), the Sultan heard of the debacle as the Balkans erupted in Christianity's greatest uprising ever.
“How... how in the world did you let it come to this! What were the fools on-site doing?!”
“Well... reports say Austria's next emperor, Franz Stefan himself, came to the frontlines stirring Christian revolts everywhere.”
“Franz Stefan? Who the hell is that guy...”
“Said to be wildly ferocious, indiscriminate in lust regardless of gender if young and pretty, bathes in enemy blood, and delights in screams over music.”
“...”
Is that even human?
The Sultan was so baffled his boiling rage cooled momentarily.