Inside the Golden Palace in Venice, sunlight streamed through the Gothic stained-glass windows, refracting brilliant colors onto the gold-inlaid walls and Murano crystal chandeliers, a specialty of Venice.
A pair of magpies perched affectionately on the windowsill were startled by a sudden roar and fluttered their wings, flying away in a panic.
Archduke Albrecht felt a chill in his heart, seeing the Emperor, usually calm and composed, in such a rare fit of rage.
Franz strode towards the desk not far away, rummaged in a drawer for a moment, and took out two documents with white covers.
He handed one to Archduke Albrecht, while the other he brandished angrily, the paper making crisp 'slapping' sounds in the air.
"Look at this damned document, Archduke Albrecht, look at it properly!" Franz's voice was hoarse with anger.
Franz paced back and forth in the room, which was covered with a handmade Venetian rug, his boots making muffled thuds on the thick carpet. His voice became sharp with exasperation: "That damned Gyulai, an utter fool! This is the pre-war report I had my aide organize, look at it carefully!"
Archduke Albrecht's eyes quickly scanned the document, his fingers constantly turning the pages. Franz's roars exploded in his ears: "How many troops did I give Gyulai? Mobilization began before the war started, how many men are in the First Army Group? Ah!"
"A hundred and fifty thousand men! A full hundred and fifty thousand!" Franz's arms flailed in the air, "And tens of thousands of reinforcements are on the way!"
His eyes burned with fury, "And his opponent? Austrian Empire intelligence shows that even if the Kingdom of Sardinia goes all out, they can mobilize at most sixty thousand men! I gave him the most elite troops, the most ample preparation time. How has he repaid my trust?"
At this point, Franz was breathless from excessive anger.
He paused for a moment, then roared again in a furious outburst: "And Count Grünne, what a shameless scoundrel! I had clearly agreed to Chief of the General Staff General Hess's preemptive strike plan, and that two-faced bastard dared to privately persuade Gyulai to stand still, what audacity!"
After venting his anger, Franz leaned against the armchair by the window, almost completely drained. Archduke Albrecht could only listen silently. For a moment, the only sounds in the spacious room were Franz's heavy breathing and the distant bells from St. Mark's Square.
Outside the room, two burly young guards with blond hair and blue eyes stood straight, but couldn't help but whisper to each other in low voices: "God, I swear I've never seen the Emperor so angry." One whispered.
"Yeah, although I can't hear what the Emperor is angry about, it must be something very serious." The other echoed, involuntarily straightening his back.
This was the first time Archduke Albrecht had seen Franz so enraged.
In his impression, Franz had always been an elegant monarch with refined manners, who never easily showed his emotions.
The Prince swallowed, and spoke cautiously: "My Emperor, since things have come to this, we should calm down even more and plan for the long term."
He paused briefly, then added: "Besides, you have just recovered your health, you shouldn't let these matters trouble you excessively."
Franz took a deep breath and unbuttoned his collar. He picked up the ceramic water jug, exquisitely crafted by Venetian artisans, from the table, poured himself a glass of water, and drank it in one gulp.
"Phew—" He tried to calm his agitated emotions. He was surprised by his own loss of composure just now, but thinking of Gyulai and Count Grünne's actions, this body couldn't help but want to vent.
"You're right, Archduke Albrecht, I have been a bit impatient lately."
"Yes, Emperor, please prioritize your health. The war is not over, and the future of the Austrian Empire needs your guidance." Archduke Albrecht's tone was slightly respectful, while inwardly cursing Dr. Stahlde's ancestors eighteen generations back: I knew that damned doctor was a quack! Something is clearly wrong with the Emperor.
The Habsburg Family had a tradition of mental illness; the Emperor's father, Archduke Franz Karl, suffered greatly from it. Now it seemed, could it be that the Emperor's latent mental problems were triggered by those two fools, Gyulai and Count Grünne?
Thinking of this, Archduke Albrecht's face was so grim it could drip water.
Those two bastards deserve to be cut into a thousand pieces! Nothing must happen to the Emperor, otherwise the consequences would be unimaginable.
If something happened to the Emperor, Crown Prince Rudolf, who was less than a year old, would be unable to govern. It was likely that, at that time, the Emperor's younger brother, Archduke Maximilian, would ascend to the throne. Thinking of that man who styled himself a 'liberal', Archduke Albrecht felt the urge to curse.
You are a Prince, a direct descendant of the Habsburg Family, yet you insist on being a liberal!
Franz looked at the grim-faced Archduke Albrecht, naturally unaware that Archduke Albrecht was somewhat suspiciously viewing him as a potential mental case. He cleared his throat and said in a calm tone: "Alright, Archduke Albrecht, you don't need to worry about me, I'm fine."
"Emperor, I will set off for the front immediately." Archduke Albrecht straightened his chest, his military boots clicking together with a crisp sound, "Please rest assured, I will defend the Sesia River line to the death and never let those damned French cross the border by a single step!"
Hearing this, Franz walked back to the exquisite desk. He took out a sheet of paper covered in densely written text from a drawer and handed it to Archduke Albrecht.
"This is...?" Archduke Albrecht took the paper, his brow furrowed slightly.
"These are some operational suggestions I have made regarding the French." Franz let out a light hum, "You don't have to be constrained by these contents, but you must remember them."
The paper was densely filled with intelligence about the French Army during Napoleon III's era, which Franz had gathered from various miscellaneous books and videos before his transmigration.
"The French rifles' range and power are indeed inferior to our Lorenz rifles," Franz said, pointing to a spot on the paper, "But the French elites who have been tempered on the battlefields of Crimea and North Africa are by no means ordinary. What they are best at is short-range bayonet charges. This kind of close-quarters melee is likely to directly rout our troops who lack practical combat experience."
"Don't be overly constrained by traditional line formations," Franz continued, "Make more use of skirmisher tactics and the small-unit combat advocated by Marshal Radetzky. Have the soldiers find cover and fully utilize the range advantage of the Lorenz rifles."
"One more thing," Franz's finger slid down the paper, "Some French artillery units have been equipped with new rifled cannons. The power, range, and accuracy of these cannons far exceed our existing artillery. However, they are still using Napoleonic-era artillery tactics, concentrating their cannons at the front line. This is a weakness of theirs, you must make good use of it."
...
Franz rambled on about a lot of key points regarding the Austrian Army and the French, but still felt uneasy in the end.
After all, this was Archduke Albrecht's first campaign, and his opponent was the elite French Army. Franz truly felt uncertain.
Finally, Franz took a deep breath and said earnestly: "Archduke Albrecht, there is an old saying in that ancient Empire in the Far East: Keep the men, lose the land, and both men and land will be kept. When necessary, you can fight and retreat. Remember, destroying the enemy's effective strength is the key."
Archduke Albrecht listened, dumbfounded, with countless question marks popping up in his mind: How did the Emperor know so much about the French Army's weapons and equipment? Had Austrian Empire intelligence successfully infiltrated the French Army? Even more puzzling, since the Emperor had such insights into military matters, why did he tolerate Count Grünne's reckless actions in military reform?
Despite his inner turmoil, Archduke Albrecht memorized every word of Franz's. If this intelligence was accurate, then Count Gyulai's Sesia River defense line might not hold for long before collapsing completely!
Night gradually enveloped Venice, the city of water. Archduke Albrecht hurried out of the Golden Palace with his staff officers and boarded the speed boat that had been prepared. They would first rush to the Eleventh Cavalry Division headquarters, and then lead this cavalry unit to the Sesia River front overnight.
Standing by the window watching Archduke Albrecht leave, Franz felt an unspeakable worry surge in his heart.
He knew that the outcome of this war would determine the future direction of the Habsburg Dynasty.
