Chapter 32: Chapter 31: Night Raid

Guan Jinpan was only momentarily shocked, but he did not take this so-called member of the Austrian Imperial Family to heart.

After all, Austria was a name he had never even heard of, and he assumed it wouldn't be any stronger than the Dutch, who had been defeated by Chenla in the past.

Although that had only been a small detachment of the Dutch, through long-term propaganda, it had transformed into a tale of the Chenla army decapitating tens of thousands of "Red-Haired Devils," leaving the rest to trample one another or fall into the sea, eventually forcing the Western barbarians to submit and pay tribute.

In the eyes of the Chenla people, the Great Qing, Vietnam, and Siam were the strongest nations in the world; the second tier consisted of Britain and France. Aside from those five nations, Chenla had no rivals in the world.

However, for the sake of the gold bars offered by the other party, Guan Jinpan decided to speak the truth.

"Our Sovereign, His Majesty Anzan, is not currently in the country. As for trade between our two nations, there will be no problem as long as you abide by our laws and pay sufficient taxes. Excellency Ambrosius, if you wish to inspect the Chenla military, I can make arrangements for you."

Then, Guan Jinpan glanced at the foreign monks beside him and added, "The ruler of Vietnam detests Western missionaries; you should watch yourselves. Do not wander the streets aimlessly; my men will arrange a post house for you."

Ambrosius had wanted to press further to see if he could meet the so-called princess.

However, remembering Franz's warning not to act too hastily, he decided to exercise patience for now.

After all, he was nominally here as a military observer, not to pick up women.

He was merely somewhat concerned about the priests, but these combat brothers were not as manic as imagined; instead, they had purchased a batch of local clothing to dress themselves as much like the locals as possible.

A missionary named Pacini told Ambrosius, "We men are not even afraid of death, so why would we fear waiting? On the contrary, Your Excellency, the fact that you risk your life to come with us shows what a noble man you are."

Ambrosius felt a bit embarrassed upon hearing this, wondering what Father Pacini would think if he knew the man had come here specifically to pursue a woman.

They hired over twenty coolies from the pier to help carry their luggage. Upon arriving at the post house, they found it barely habitable; although the space was not small, there were only four post messengers and a dozen laborers, and the official in charge of the station had long since vanished.

However, when their heavy luggage hit the ground, the eyes of the messengers seemed to light up momentarily before they lapsed back into their semi-dreamlike state.

At night, due to the long journey, everyone was exhausted and had fallen into a deep sleep.

Outside the courtyard wall, a grappling hook was thrown up and hooked onto the edge. Then, a figure vaulted over the wall and headed straight for the rear door bolt.

The bolt was pulled out, and over a dozen masked men in black entered in single file, wielding bright, sharp sabers.

Under the command of a leader, they split up, seemingly intending to wipe out everyone in the post house in one fell swoop.

The first man in black kicked open a side door, but before he could even utter his scripted line, he was blown away by a high-powered rifle.

In truth, not everyone was sleeping.

For both the night before and the night of, an officer and four men were responsible for night watch duty. Firstly, it was professional habit—they had never let their guard down even on the ship; secondly, the behavior of certain people had been strange; and thirdly, their primary duty was to protect Grand Duke Ambrosius.

The dark shadow scaling the wall was discovered immediately, and the entire unit entered combat readiness.

With the first gunshot, the lights in the rooms were turned on, followed by dozens of rifles firing in succession. The men in black were thrown into chaos by the light and the incoming bullets.

The battle ended in a very short time. As the gunfire ceased, the screams of agony stopped as well.

Of the fifteen men in black, except for one who lay on the ground having narrowly escaped, all others had been killed by bullets.

The monk Satre, his face covered in runes, picked up the lucky survivor from the ground and threw him into the room.

The man had not yet recovered from the battle; his body was trembling uncontrollably, and the smell of urine wafted from his lower body.

The officer on duty delivered a slap that immediately knocked out two of the man's teeth.

"Who are you people? Why did you do this?"

The man in black remained silent, prompting the officer to raise his hand again.

"Lord Lian An sent us."

"Who is Lian An?" the officer continued to ask.

"..." The man in black stammered.

Another slap.

"He is the Vietnamese headman in charge of the pier. He has his eyes on your goods and sent us to take them, and to take your heads along the way to present to Hue as a reward for his service."

The man in black was named Yun Sheng, merely a minor official of Chenla. He had only helped that Headman Lian An do such things out of fear of Vietnamese tyranny.

Had he known he would be sacrificing the lives of his brothers, he would rather have died than take this job.

The two slaps had already cost him half his life, so he simply confessed everything he knew.

Father Pacini asked, "Then, child, who are you?"

Yun Sheng knew the person before him was a foreign monk. Compared to the fierce-looking men around him, this monk seemed much easier to talk to.

Immediately, as if grasping a life-saving straw, he said, "Master, my name is Yun Sheng. I am merely a ninth-rank military official of Chenla. I beg of you, please show mercy and let me go."

Father Pacini shook his head. "Child, the only one who can save you is yourself."

Yun Sheng did not understand the monk's words.

However, everyone else understood Father Pacini's intention, looking at Yun Sheng with either helplessness or cold sneers.

Thus, Yun Sheng was semi-coerced into joining the Church. Father Pacini was so pleased that he decided to open a bottle of red wine to celebrate.

But soon, the Chenla soldiers arrived. Seeing the corpses scattered across the ground, they couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment.

The leading officer looked at his dozens of subordinates and mustered the courage to say, "How could you be so cruel, killing people at will?"

Ambrosius had just killed someone for the first time and was only just recovering. Although his Chenla dialect was not perfect, he could tell the man was trying to turn the tables.

"Did you not see that those people were all armed? They broke into our residence at night; what were they trying to do?"

"You Westerner are quite cunning! Do you think because there are no witnesses, I wouldn't dare arrest you? Men!"

However, behind the officer, the Chenla soldiers in uniform did not dare step forward to make an arrest; instead, they prepared to flee.

After all, these soldiers only carried sabers and spears, while the opposition held firearms.

At this time, Chenla was very backward; it was considered quite good if a company of soldiers had a few muskets. Even among the Vietnamese, the rate of musket equipment was low, with cold weapons still being the primary armament.

Furthermore, most of these muskets were crudely made, with a risk of hitting the enemy nearly as high as the risk of self-injury.

Father Pacini, well-versed in Southeast Asian officialdom, spoke up again.

"You are the official troops of Chenla, are you not? We are guests of your Lord Guan Jinpan."

The Chenla officer immediately breathed a sigh of relief and swapped his expression for a smiling face.

"So you are guests of Lord Guan Jinpan. We will certainly investigate this matter thoroughly to ensure justice for you all."

He then instructed his subordinates: "Carry the corpses away. The rest of you, stand guard properly. If any ruffians disturb our honored guests' rest again, I will hold you accountable."

Inside the post house.

"They call themselves soldiers?" Ambrosius roared.

"Grand Duke Ambrosius, isn't this good? As military observers, we are here first to learn advanced tactics, and second to understand the enemy's strength. Did the high command not send us here to prepare for the future establishment of colonies?"

Another officer expressed deep agreement. They did not consider it from economic or political perspectives; they simply felt that since the great powers of Europe all had colonies, the Austrian Empire should have its own as well.

The surrounding Catholic missionaries thought the same; after all, proselytizing in a colony was much easier than preaching while hiding in the shadows like this.

Ambrosius sighed, wondering how he had ended up with this group of madmen. There were only a few dozen of them, yet they wanted to establish a colony.

Ambrosius thought of that brat in Vienna and cursed inwardly.

"Where is the princess we were promised!"

(End of Chapter)