I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1274 Awakening
Meanwhile, after analyzing all the clues, the officials sent by the Archbishop of Cologne finally concluded that Archbishop Friedrich should have "disappeared" within Mainz.

But when they suggested looking for people in Mainz, they were flatly refused by Frederick Karl's diplomats. The reason given was that the recent religious riots in Cologne had also affected Mainz, and they feared the people there might be in danger.

On the sixth day of Archbishop Friedrich's detention by the "Papal Guard," Osnabrück elected a new archbishop—Opsstern, a local assistant bishop. Archbishop Muzarelli quickly endorsed this result on behalf of the Papacy.

Opsnabrück had no political foundation, and immediately after taking office, on the advice of Count Amogoh, who had helped him get elected, and Franz Egon, he announced that Osnabrück would secede from the Archdiocese of Cologne because he was unwilling to accept the corrupt guidance of Maximilian any longer.

Count Almogoth was, of course, a member of the Security Service. He bribed more than half of the priests who had votes for less than 5 francs.

Following the lead of the Archdiocese of Osnabrück, Franz Egon announced that Paderborn would also secede from the Archdiocese of Cologne.

For a time, the Archbishop of Cologne could only control a small area of ​​Münster.

After the two dioceses separated, the protests in Münster became even more intense—Archbishop Maximilian must have had improper dealings with Friedrich, otherwise why would the two dioceses have been so resolute?
When a large number of protesters surrounded St. Paul's Cathedral in Münster, Maximilian finally lost his temper and ordered his captain of the guard to open fire to disperse the crowd.

More than a dozen people were killed in the shooting by the army, and more than 30 others were injured.

As news of the bloody crackdown spread, the protesters not only did not give in, but their numbers grew even larger.

Meanwhile, Opsteren and Franz Egon announced their support for the righteous action in Münster, and believers from both places began to flock to Münster, many of them carrying weapons sponsored by unknown sources.

Archbishop Friedrich reappeared in southern Hesse after being "missing" for 13 days.

He first issued a strongly worded statement condemning the Vatican's unwarranted "kidnapping" of him, and then called on the diocese of Osnabrück to restore order.

But it was all too late. The riots in Münster escalated, and even many soldiers joined in the denunciation of Maximilian.

Ultimately, under the cover of his still loyal soldiers, he escaped to the territory of Earl Lipper.

At this very moment, Frederick Karl announced that the Archdiocese of Mainz would begin secular reforms, forming a parliament within two months, after which a new ruler would be elected.

When the news reached Münster, the demonstrators, deeply disappointed with the former archbishop, declared their intention to follow Mainz's example and establish a secular government there as well.

……

While the Stuttgart Summit was being held, Poland, far away in Eastern Europe, also saw new hope.

"Thank God! Thank you, Your Highness the Crown Prince."

King Stanisław II of Poland turned his back as he spoke, pretending to look at a map, but actually not wanting the French envoy to see his moist eyes.

He originally thought he would have to wait a long time, perhaps three to five years, but he never expected that Poland would have the opportunity to fight back after only seven months.

He suddenly thought of his nephew, Prince Poniatovsky, raised his hand to make the sign of the cross on his chest, and murmured, "Yozev, do you see? All your sacrifices, your patience, even your life, will be rewarded."

"Poland survived because of you, and your name will be eternally remembered because of Poland's victory..." Marshal Koschusko reminded him from the side, "Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting you, but we must seize every second. The battlefield can change at any moment."

“You are right.” Stanisław II took a deep breath and turned to Siez, “Please join us for our war preparations meeting.”

"This is exactly what I was hoping for."

Starting the next morning, the entire city of Warsaw was like a hunter who had been lying in wait for a long time. It shook off the dead leaves and dirt it used for camouflage, its cold eyes fixed on the back of the beast in the distance, and quietly took its first step.

The doors and corridors of Warsaw City Hall are plastered with the latest notices requiring all civil servants who started working after August of last year to go to Zalesna Estate in southern Warsaw within two days to register their salaries.

In an office without a nameplate, Warrenov said listlessly, "I knew it. The government can't keep paying us. Ha, a clerk with three carpenters under him, that just doesn't seem right."

The thin, middle-aged man next to him stood up from the ground—he didn't even have a chair here—and waved his hand, saying, "You're a hero who fought in Russia; if there's going to be layoffs this time, it'll be people like me..."

He had been defeated by the Russian army in the battle to defend Bobruisk, which made him feel ashamed in front of his colleagues.

“But what about next month’s bread?” Zlatopen, his face scarred, frowned. “We can’t find any other work in Warsaw…”

Warrenovich glanced at the crowded office, shook his head and sighed, "A life like this, devoid of any hope, is worse than dying on the battlefield."

Yes, their city hall has more than 4 civil servants, including 120 people responsible for posting notices in the city, and more than 330 coachmen, more than half of whom have never even touched a horse-drawn carriage since they started working.

The three of them were subordinates of a clerk, and their job was to repair the desks and chairs in the office.

But they don't know how to be carpenters at all.

It is clear that the Warsaw government can no longer afford to support these retired veterans. They will pay their last month's salary in two days and then kick them out of the city hall.

The next day, the three of them dawdled for half a day before finally spotting the enormous manor hidden among the trees in the distance.

A short while later, Warrenovich produced his identification and handed it to the guard at the door: "Sir, we've come to..."

Upon seeing the small print at the bottom of the document that read "Crimea Raid," the latter suddenly stood at attention, removed his hat, and said, "Please come in. The motherland thanks you for your contributions!"

Warrenovey was startled, but a sergeant immediately came over and gestured for them to follow.

Warrenovich and his two companions walked cautiously through the manor for a while, and after rounding a mound, they were stunned into silence.

Ahead lay a very wide square, with at least five or six thousand people coming and going. Some were registering, some were receiving uniforms from officers, and in the far distance were several neat square formations.

Warrenovich's heart began to pound, and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists, because he saw that the people in the ranks were all wearing military uniforms.

Polish Army uniforms!
(End of this chapter)