Chapter 19
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 019
Chapter Title: Coronation
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The square exploded.
"Long live King Ulrich!!"
A deafening roar swept through the plaza like a massive wave, swallowing everything in its path.
The whole of Prague was now blanketed under a single name.
I slowly lowered the sword I had raised high, gazing down at the thousands in the crowd stretching their hands toward me, tears streaming down their faces.
Janos and the soldiers beside me were overwhelmed by the sight, but I remained chillingly calm at the center of all this frenzy.
This is populism.
Offering the despairing masses a single enemy to blame for their suffering. Positioning yourself as their sole savior.
It was the kind of demagoguery that would be most guarded against and criticized in modern politics, but here in the 15th-century Prague square, it was a weapon more powerful than any honest approach.
I had no intention of going to the cunning city council nobles or the pedantic theologians and persuading them on their own terms.
Why dance on the stage they had set?
Instead, I came straight to the square. And I gave the ignorant but pure-hearted masses a clear enemy.
The corrupt pope, the greedy emperor, the depraved priests.
They were starving because of them. Your sons died because of them. Bohemia’s glory was sullied because of them.
How difficult it might be to actually eliminate them in reality didn’t matter right now.
What matters is that the citizens have accepted me as their savior in this moment.
Turning my back to the roaring square, I looked toward the city hall building.
A structure of red brick, imposing yet somehow archaic.
Now those sly old foxes have no choice.
I hadn’t come begging for a crown.
I had come to create a situation where refusing to offer the crown would turn the entire city of Prague against them, putting their lives and fortunes at risk.
"Woooaaahhh!!"
And just now, I had perfectly achieved that by turning the entire citizenry of Prague into fanatical supporters.
That was when it happened.
Bam!
The heavy doors of the city hall burst open roughly, and men adorned in expensive furs and silks came rushing out in a panic.
The moderate Hussite nobles of Prague, city council members, wealthy guild masters.
These were the true rulers of the city.
They stood there dumbfounded, unable to believe the scene unfolding before their eyes.
The citizens of Prague, whom they were supposed to control and lead, were fervently cheering a young noble from some unheard-of backwater, calling him king.
Janos said in a voice brimming with satisfaction.
"My lord, the old foxes have come out. Look at their faces. They look like they've bitten into shit."
"Of course. I just stripped them of their most powerful weapon."
The weapon called public sentiment.
The gazes of the Hussite leaders turned toward Ulrich.
Their eyes were filled with blatant hostility, bewilderment, and barely concealed turmoil.
They must be racking their brains right now. They ought to declare me a traitor and arrest me on the spot, but doing so would mean being torn apart alive by that enraged mob.
"My lord, what now? They don't look like they'll hand over the crown willingly."
"Don't worry. They have no choice."
That's right. They could no longer oppose me.
Opposing me meant turning the entire packed square—the whole of Prague—against them. And that was political and physical suicide.
I lightly tugged the reins, turning my horse toward city hall.
The crowd parted like the miracle of Moses.
People reached out as if desperate to touch even the hem of my garment, and some even kissed the ground after I passed.
Janos and the soldiers gripped their sword hilts tightly, tense against any potential threats, but all that emanated from the crowd was pure worship and fervor.
The Hussite leaders stared at me with hardened faces. Among them were familiar ones.
One of the commanders who had attacked Sternberg Castle before.
"Pleased to meet you. Ulrich von Sternberg."
"...Hynek Krusina of Lichtenburg."
I nodded curtly and scanned the other nobles standing behind him.
"Lord Krusina. And the noble members of the Prague council. Have you heard the voices of the citizens clearly enough?"
After a long silence, Krusina forced the corners of his mouth up.
He flashed what wasn't quite a smile, his voice trembling faintly as he suppressed his rage.
"We welcome... the noble lord of Sternberg. The council is deeply impressed by this 'fervent' welcome from the Prague citizens."
He put particular venom into the word 'fervent,' as if spitting poison.
"Please, come inside... and let us discuss your 'legitimate' claims together. The council is always open for Bohemia's future."
"Discussion, eh. Fine."
I replied while still looking down at them from horseback.
"But first, you should show some manners. There's no custom of ordering the future King of Bohemia to dismount first."
At those words, Krusina's face flushed beet red. The other nobles around him muttered with expressions of outrage.
"What did you just—!"
"Didn't you hear the citizens? They're calling me king. Or do you intend to defy the will of the Prague people?"
My gaze shifted to the crowd still roaring behind Krusina. Following my eyes, he bit his lip.
Provoking that frenzied mob would be pouring oil on fire.
"Kuh...!"
A long, humiliating silence.
Krusina exchanged brief glances with the other nobles, then reluctantly dropped to one knee. The others followed suit, grinding their teeth.
"Woooaaahhh!!"
Fresh ecstatic cheers erupted from the crowd at the sight. The nobles were kneeling before their king.
Only then did I dismount. I handed the reins to Janos and haughtily looked down at the crowns of the kneeling nobles.
"Very well. Now I'll graciously hear about your future."
As the heavy oak door closed, the crowd's roar shaking Prague square faded away like a lie.
Inside and outside were completely different worlds. If the outside boiled with heated rage, the inside was frozen solid with suspicion and intrigue.
The tapestries lining the corridor were embroidered in gold thread with the glories of the Luxembourg dynasty and the deeds of Charles IV, but the space now was filled only with a heavy, icy silence like stone.
A vast, ornate conference room. The candlelight from a massive chandelier illuminated the figures seated around the enormous round table in the center.
I examined each face around the table one by one.
Everyone here was a Hussite leader who moved Prague and Bohemia.
They all wore rigid masks, but they couldn't hide the hostility beneath.
One noble approached me and began introductions.
"My lord, this is Jan Rokycana, professor at Prague University and preacher at the Tyn Church. He is the spiritual pillar of our Hussites."
Rokycana had the clean-cut face of a scholar and sharp eyes that seemed to pierce into one's soul.
But my gaze soon shifted elsewhere.
In the corner of the room, an old warrior sat leaning slightly against the back of his chair, minimizing his presence like a shadow.
Worn and scarred leather armor, a face covered in scars, a black eyepatch over one eye.
A cold, mad glint in his remaining eye that pierced right through.
That's Jan Zizka.
The living legend who made Sigismund's Crusaders tremble.
The undefeated war hero. Bohemia's Yi Sun-sin.
...Look at that gaze. He looks ready to eat people.
I even felt an illusion of dry blood and iron scent wafting from him. His aura was no joke.
I was certain that if I faced that gaze on the battlefield instead of in this room, I'd collapse on the spot.
"Sit, my lord."
Just then, Rokycana made a welcome offer.
I started to sit, but frowned at the seating arrangement.
Well, now?
There were only two empty seats. The head and the foot. An obvious trap to test and probe me.
I stared at the empty seats for a moment, then let out a mocking smile. With a scrape, I dragged the chair closest to the door—the foot—and plopped down.
But with the empty head seat across from me, my position oddly looked like the head of the meeting.
Rokycana's brow furrowed slightly at the unexpected move, and bewilderment spread across the other nobles' faces.
"Why stare like that? Let's get started. We can't keep the citizens outside waiting too long."
At my words, Rokycana cleared his throat to steady the mood.
His voice was calm like a professor teaching students, but thorns hid within.
"My lord. That sermon in the square... most impressive. You have a true talent for swaying the masses. But this isn't a marketplace. Where Bohemia's fate is debated, we need cold reason and theological justification, not fiery emotional incitement."
Rokycana pushed across the table the letter I had sent and the bundle of parchments proving my lineage.
"Your claim of carrying the blood of great Emperor Charles IV is true. However, blood alone doesn't make a king. The cause we uphold, raising the chalice, weighs heavier than any secular crown."
I listened silently, arms crossed for now.
"We proposed the regency to test your cause. Yet you ignored the council's offer and ran straight to the square to deceive the populace. This is an insult and challenge to us all!"
Rokycana's voice grew sharper.
"So answer, my lord. What exactly do you intend? What is your faith, and on what basis do you speak of justice? If this is just childish farce for a crown, Prague will never tolerate you"
All eyes in the room turned to me at the foot of the table.
They waited for how I'd justify myself, how I'd unravel my legitimacy theologically.
But I decided to shatter their expectations once more.
"Professor Rokycana, you're completely misreading the situation."
"What?"
"I never insulted you. If anything, I've shown you what you're missing."
I stood and began slowly circling the round table.
"Theological justification? Cold reason? Professor, Sigismund is gathering imperial troops beyond the border right now. And you say we should sit here debating lofty theology?"
The incensed Krusina shot to his feet.
"Insolent! Greenhorn of Sternberg! Do you know where you are? We've risked our lives for this cause for years! Who the hell are you to—!"
I cut off Krusina's retort firmly.
"So what have you protected?"
"What?"
"While you fought with your lives, the kingdom has been ravaged by civil war. Merchants go bankrupt with trade routes blocked, farmers starve with harvests seized. Is this the result of your protected cause?"
"Th-this...!"
Krusina stammered, unable to continue.
"Demagoguery? Deception? No. I merely voiced what the citizens were saying. The pain and rage of the common folk you've willfully ignored. You wave chalices and speak of God's will, yet turn a blind eye to God's children starving."
I scanned the room's occupants one by one.
"The pope calls Hussites heretics, and Sigismund will lead another Crusade anytime. You're fighting isolated against all Europe. What do you think will happen if this continues?"
I stopped in front of Jan Zizka.
The one-eyed general stared back without a twitch.
"What you lack isn't faith or courage. It's a focal point. Legitimate cause to unite Bohemia and a sure strategy to lead this war to victory."
I turned back to Rokycana.
"You told me to prove my worth. But it's already proven. When I burned your precious Wagenburg and killed your commanders."
Bam!
Radical priest Jan Zelivsky slammed the table with his fist. His face was flushed with anger.
"How dare a corrupt Catholic noble! What safe perch lets you spout such nonsense—!"
"I beat you even as your enemy. Now that I offer to be your king, what better proof of worth is there?"
Zelivsky was speechless. His theological logic crumbled before raw power.
"I'm no theologian. No scholar. I know how to win. How to smash Sigismund, flatten the pope's nose, make Bohemia Europe's richest, strongest nation."
The room fell silent. Their faces filled with distrust and doubt.
"Blood is just a bonus. I seek the crown not because I'm Charles IV's kin, but because only I can end this war. You're not crowning me king. You're choosing me for your survival."
Until then, the stone-silent Jan Zizka finally spoke. His voice was low and gravelly, like an old lion's roar.
"Fine talk, young lordling."
Zizka's single eye pierced me.
"So. What can you do? Send Sigismund's army packing with that slick tongue? Something more solid than that fire trick last time."
All eyes focused on me again.
Doubt, wariness, and a faint spark of expectation mixed in their gazes.
A method? Of course. But I had no intention of explaining here.
Explain black powder principles, refining pig iron from the blast furnace to steel, steam engine basics? Would they even believe it? Hell, could they understand?
Forget understanding—they'd call me mad. You can't teach calculus to kids who can't do arithmetic.
In the end, only results mattered. Until I showed them with their own eyes, any explanation was empty noise.
I met Zizka's eye without flinching, shrugging leisurely.
"General. Do battlefield commanders reveal all their cards beforehand?"
"Hm?"
"If I blab all my plans here, who's to say it won't reach Sigismund through someone's mouth in this room? Or do you think I can trust everyone here with my life?"
At that, some nobles flushed and glanced at each other.
It was an open secret that not everyone here was united.
"You want methods? Fine. I'll tell you. But first, I have a question for you."
I slowly surveyed everyone around the table.
Those meeting my eyes couldn't hide their discomfort.
"Are you prepared to recognize me as king? To obey not the advice of some backwater lord, but the commands of Bohemia's king?"
"You bastard! Threatening us now?!"
Krusina jumped up, face red with insulted fury.
"No crown, no secrets? Is that what a claimant to the throne says? In the end, your personal greed trumps Bohemia's future!"
"Not greed, but authority, Lord Krusina."
I didn't yield an inch. This was the moment to nail it down.
"Even the best strategies are useless if you don't follow them. From a half-baked regency, my orders would be chewed up and twisted before leaving Prague's gates. I need absolute authority to execute my plans. That's the power of the crown."
"Arrogant whelp! Who are you to command us?!"
"Because I can deliver better results than you."
I declared it like prophecy, resolute.
"I'm not here to debate. I'm here for the crown. Hold the coronation formally in St. Vitus Cathedral, before the watching Prague citizens. Recognize me as King of Bohemia and delegate all authority. Then I'll bring you victory."
Zizka still said nothing, just stroking his chin, eyeing me.
"Hm..."
That gaze no longer saw me as a mere youth.
A mad gambler, or dangerous opportunist.
Perhaps both.
"Hah..."
Breaking the heavy silence with a sigh was Rokycana.
He pressed his throbbing temple and let out a deep breath.
"...Very well. Let's discuss... the coronation."