She changed Europe

Page 16

"I haven't drawn it for you yet, how did you find it?" Leah frowned slightly.

“That’s easy. I’ll let the twenty-four of them go find it themselves. Those who find it will be spared, and those who don’t will die. I’ve given them weapons, so they’ll know what to do.” Andrei maintained his kind smile without interruption.

"Twenty-four rats were fighting tooth and nail, and in the end, only one was left. He gave me the answer, and then I made him pay the price for his vile killing."

"Lia! Do you think I'm fair? God would be proud of me." This is the kind of person who is a hysterical madman. At this moment, only coldness filled Lia's face, which resembled Rita's.

She clenched her fists, suppressing her anger, and then told the man in front of her in a very calm tone: "Go to Hikalite Street. Where are the other three puzzle pieces and Princess Ra? Tonight, Vienna's songs will resound with the melodies that belong only to Savoy, and Italy will usher in her rebirth."

"Did your sister tell you this?" Andrei asked, looking at his wife, Lia.

“Yes.” Lydia maintained her distance from Andrei throughout.

at the same time--

“Hikkalit Street.” Gisela, now cloaked, recalled once again the location where the cross on the map intersected. As a “foreigner” who wasn’t very familiar with Vienna, it was Lavalli who had told her the name of this unfamiliar street.

"One, two, three, four, five..." Gisela raised her head and carefully observed the buildings on the street. She did not look directly at them to see how they differed from other streets in Vienna.

Completely clueless, she couldn't help but sigh. Although it was already spring, the nights in Vienna were still chilly. Perhaps because the city was ancient, it hadn't developed the heat island effect that is common in modern cities, and the nighttime temperatures were unusually low.

"Achoo!" Gisela felt her nose itch and then involuntarily sneezed. Thinking about all this, she could only gently rub the tip of her high nose. Interestingly, whether Gisela admitted it or not, she could now be described as a so-called blonde foreign girl.

"Sigh! I should have worn more clothes." She lowered her head helplessly, looking at her thin legs exposed to the elements. Apart from white stockings, she had absolutely nothing to keep warm. She had previously had a skirt that could have provided some protection from the cool breeze, but she had just torn it open.

"That's right!" Gisela suddenly remembered that she seemed to still have a fox tail, so she skillfully reached out and touched the area of ​​her tailbone.

Although she had previously disliked it, it turned out to be quite useful when she actually needed it. Thinking about this, Gisela felt much more at ease about her identity as a fox girl. Interestingly, when she tried to grab her swaying tail, she couldn't control her strength and ended up using too much force.

"Ooh!" (She let out a pathetic fox-like sound) An electric-like pain shot from her tail down her body; the sensation was excruciating, and Gisela almost cried out. It's said that a dog's tail is a hundred times more sensitive than any other part of its body, and foxes are canines; the slight pinch Gisela had just given her sent a hundred times the sensation back to her brain (this was just Gisela's speculation), and the feeling was undeniable.

As a normal person, she had never had a tail before. Even after she had a tail, she never tried to control or touch it. To her, the tail was like a stupid peripheral plugin that she selectively ignored. On the contrary, she would occasionally need to touch the ears on her head.

"Does it hurt that much?" Gisela was perhaps in too much pain, or perhaps her body was simply not very tolerant of pain, and she was now somewhat delirious, saying strange things to her tail.

"This is not a good thing. If the tail is so sensitive, it will definitely become a weakness in the future. I can't let my opponent know about this weakness." Gisela, who was gradually regaining consciousness, realized the seriousness of the problem. Now it was just a light pinch. If someone grabbed it and twisted it hard, wouldn't she go into shock?

At this thought, Gisela broke out in a cold sweat. Compared to the cold outside, the current problem was more life-threatening for her.

"Oh right, I haven't even found the entrance yet." Gisela patted her cheeks, pulling herself out of her reverie, because she knew she still had things to do.

Gisela looked around and quickly found a spot on the stand that could provide shelter from the wind. She then took out the three pieces of the stand that she had put in her bag.

The fragment still showed the same man, still performing some strange ritual, but she still couldn't glean any information from it.

“Mr. Caravaggio, I have solved one mystery after another that you have set for me. Even though I have reached the door of the truth, why are you still unwilling to open the door and let me peek through it?” Gisela, frustrated, could only sigh helplessly like a down-and-out.

“I don’t have much time left. The group in St. Rupert’s Church must be on their way.” Gisela looked up at the starry sky and quickly found the North Star, which was shining with a white light.

This was her favorite star, and the guardian star that brought her good fortune in her past life.

"Humble people always like to kneel because their souls are accustomed to accepting their fate. Great kings also like to kneel, but their kneeling is out of humility, for the sake of their people and their faith."

"Gisella, what kind of person do you want to be? A pampered princess living in luxury, indulging in pleasure and passively accepting her fate; or a king ruling over this ancient empire?" A majestic yet ethereal voice echoed in Gisella's mind, devoid of any emotion, as if a true god were questioning her soul.

PS1: The plot has been changed a lot, isn't it much smoother than before?

Chapter 56 Princess Starting from Zero: Hello Caravaggio!

"You ask me how to make such a choice? Isn't the answer too obvious? I'm a real man. Even if I look like a frail princess now, the only path for me is to rule the world. As for being a pretty face, let that path go to hell!" (Gisela is speaking Chinese here)

"Haha! Interesting! Truly interesting. Your soul is indeed the most unique one I have ever seen. I can't help but wonder what changes you can bring to this utterly terrible world?" It was a voice that was both authoritative and unquestionable, a voice that was both bold and unrestrained.

"Your Habsburg empire, like the many nations I've traveled through, is on the verge of collapse. The collapse of a powerful nation often begins from within." As someone from the future, Gisela understood that the voice before her was absolutely right. The destruction of the Austro-Hungarian Empire stemmed from within; external forces were merely catalysts. Just as Germany, despite the collapse of its government and the cession of territory and reparations, still existed as a nation, the Austro-Hungarian Empire? It was shattered into nothingness.

“You’re right, I want to save this country, so this time I must win,” Gisela said firmly.

"The third shop on the corner, the fourth brick in the fifth row of the alley in the middle, please have our lovely princess tap it four times and read this passage..." The voice was somewhat humorous, but it did indeed provide Gisela with a clue.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Caravaggio." Gisela called out the name of the voice as he was leaving.

"You..." Upon hearing this, the voice hesitated briefly before letting out a relieved sigh, his attitude tantamount to acknowledging Gisela's guess.

Of course, confirming Caravaggio's identity was only the first step; Gisela's new deductions had only just begun.

"So, shall I call you Mr. Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, or Mr. Michelangelo Merisi da Carolingian?" Caravaggio can be seen as a variant of Old Low German (Saxon) Italian, and Gisela, utilizing his innate linguistic talent, instantly realized why the other's words carried a strong interest in royal power—in a sense...

"Smart little girl, this treasure rightfully belongs to you."

Gisela's consciousness was pulled back to reality. She was still standing on the street corner, still holding the three pieces of the puzzle in her hand. "The treasure that should belong to me?" Gisela was full of confusion about Mr. Caravaggio's words.

"Alright, let's go check that out first."

Walking dividing line —

“The third shop, the alley in the middle, the fifth row, the fourth brick.” Gisela tried hard to recall what Mr. Caravaggio had said before. No wonder she had no clue before. If it weren’t for the little tricks Mr. Caravaggio had set up on the puzzle and given her hints, she would never have found it even if she had arrived here.

“This is it.” After confirming repeatedly, Gisela slowly chipped away at the red brick embedded in the wall with a knife.

"It's quite heavy; the mechanism should be inside." Gisele stretched out his right hand and touched a stone that felt like the one he had used during the magic power test at school.

"Concentrate, then channel your magic." How many times had Gisela used magic energy already? She herself couldn't say. However, she had now grasped some techniques for using magic energy: waiting until it was depleted before absorbing it would prevent that strange, overflowing feeling and avoid making her body uncomfortable. (Very good, little Gisela can turn off the tap now; we're very pleased.)

A creaking sound, like the hissing of an old clock due to lack of lubrication, reached Gisela's ears. This sound, like the scratching of a blackboard with fingernails, made her feel very uncomfortable. Gisela covered her ears with her hands, only to suddenly remember that she seemed to have two more pairs of ears, and that her upper ears were more sensitive to sound.

Please, take me in! I don't want to be a vixen anymore, Gisela thought to herself in despair.

As the mechanism operated, the stone bricks on the ground gradually split into several pieces, eventually creating a passage that could accommodate two people at the same time.

“I knew it.” Gisela opened her bag, took out a torch and a lighter, lit the torch, and walked inside.

The dark, narrow passage was covered in dust, indicating it hadn't been traversed for centuries. Gisela held her torch and shone it forward, but saw no end in sight. This bottomless abyss only intensified Gisela's already timid nature. She couldn't help but recall the many books she'd read before, such as "The Grave Robbers' Chronicles" and "Ghost Blows Out the Light," but the demons and monsters described there only existed in ancient Chinese tombs. Now, she could only console herself with that thought.

After walking for about five minutes, Gisela finally reached the end of the stairs, where a stone door appeared before her.

"This must be the part where Mr. Caravaggio said that fixed phrases needed to be recited."

"(Paraphrased: I change with time)" Gisela recited this sentence with deep emotion. This sentence is the incantation that opened the door here, and it is also the inner voice of Mr. Caravaggio. As a son of Charlemagne, carrying the glory of the oldest royal family in Europe, he lived his life with a dissolute lifestyle and a playful attitude towards the world. The family's prestige has long since disappeared from the world, and the living members of his clan no longer have the ideal of pursuing glory, because everything has changed with time.

The doors slowly opened, revealing Gisela a spacious area supported by six Roman-Greek marble columns, with water flowing quietly on either side. In the center of the hall stood a stone chair, upon which lay a skeleton.

“Hello, dear Mr. Caroline.” Gisela removed her black cloak, allowing her ears and tail to be exposed for the first time, and this time she felt a throbbing from the depths of her soul.

PS1: Does it feel like each chapter is short now? To be honest, when I used to update once, it was 3,000 words 0v0

Chapter 57 The Princess Starting from Zero: The Iron Crown of Lombardy (Vote Requested)

“Your greatness is well-deserved.” Gisela walked toward the skeleton on the chair and bowed before him. This man deserved her true respect, which stemmed from his life, not from the power he represented.

After all, everyone knows that Charlemagne is the father of Europe, Otto is the founder of the Holy Roman Empire, and the glorious Carolingian dynasty has long since perished, with countless powers rising from the ruins of the old empire.

But as the heir of this family, you have to bear the weight of history, a history so heavy it's suffocating. This burden is like a shackle that imprisons you in a prison called life. You are unrestrained, you are obsessed with art, you use your actions to deny your predetermined fate, and finally, as Caravaggio, you die in a duel.

But now it seems that you actually came here to fulfill your mission, staging a duel and dying to deceive everyone.

As the saying goes: all things return to being all things, gods return to being gods, and so does the power of the monarch, which comes from the gods, after death.

Thinking of all this, Gisela stood up, dusted off his knees, and looked up at the mural behind him.

Gisela immediately recognized the title of the painting, "The Coronation of Otto I." The kneeling man in the painting is the first Holy Roman Emperor, a great man regarded as the father of the nation by Germans today, while the standing man in the painting is Pope John XII.

Otto appeared humble, his piety evident. The crown the Pope held in his hand, if his memory served him correctly, was the oldest crown in Europe—the Lombard Iron Crown.

The history of the Iron Crown is long lost to history. It is said that it was made from the nails on the True Cross, which were found by Helena, the mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great, at the site of Jesus' crucifixion outside Jerusalem. The crown is said to be a sacred object made from those nails.

In the 6th century AD, a Germanic tribe conquered the Lombard tribes and established the Lombard Kingdom. The Iron Crown subsequently fell into the hands of the Lombard kings and was used in coronation ceremonies. In 774 AD, Charlemagne, the Frankish king, captured the last Lombard king, Disidlius, and crowned himself with the Iron Crown, thus declaring himself King of Lombardy. From then on, most of Italy became part of this great kingdom.

It wasn't until March 1, 1026, in Milan, that the Lombard Kingdom was renamed the Kingdom of Italy, when Archbishop Herbert of Milan crowned King Conrad II of Germany with an iron crown.

From the 9th to the 12th centuries thereafter, all the kings of Italy were German kings, and almost all of them were crowned with the Iron Crown in Pavia.

The Iron Crown thus became a symbol of Italy. Of course, it was also a magical relic, making it exceptionally precious, and thus it was carefully preserved by its owner.

What happened next is well-known. On May 23, 1805, Napoleon, the greatest empress in the hearts of the French people, held a magnificent coronation ceremony in Milan, becoming Queen of Italy. On the solemn throne, she was granted the royal coat of arms by the Cardinal of Milan. Then she walked to the altar, took the iron crown, and placed it on her head. Following the tradition of the coronation ceremonies of ancient Lombard kings, she loudly proclaimed: "God has given it to me; who dares to blaspheme it?"

It is said that the Napoleonic Empress of this world was originally named Pauline Bonaparte, and she also had an older brother named Charles, which is quite consistent with the novels Lin Wei read in his previous life.

Returning to the present, it's no wonder the Italians wanted to find the secret of the box. Whether or not they possessed the Iron Crown directly affected the Savoy family's legitimacy and orthodoxy in ruling Italy, and played a significant role in shaping the national character of the Italian people. Once Gisela understood this, he clearly grasped the true purpose of these Italians' visit to Vienna.

But soon a new question arose in her mind. Caravaggio lived in the 16th and 17th centuries. If he hid the crown here, then what about the crown used by Napoleon at his coronation and the one his family originally wore? Thinking about it this way, could it be that the Iron Crown is not hidden here?

She only had three fragments left, and one more was needed to unlock the secret. If the "deliveryman" was on his way, he should be here soon. A slight smile played on Gisela's lips. Because once he got here first, he would have the upper hand.

"Please stand still, Your Highness the Austrian princess," a male voice, sounding somewhat frivolous to Gisela, reached her ears, followed by the sound of a gun being cocked, a sound that was particularly jarring and terrifying in the empty hall.

"Speak of the devil, and he appears," Gisela thought to herself.

"Raise your hands and turn around. You are a dangerous mage, but thankfully your power is not complete." As soon as the other person finished speaking, Gisela became even more certain of certain things. To be honest, this truth still made her feel somewhat disappointed.

“You really came.” Gisela slowly raised her hands as the man asked, then slowly turned around.

“Your Highness, I have a small request.” The man’s tone seemed humble, but judging from the gun he was pointing at, Gisela knew that this was not something that could be refused.

"Oh? What do you want me to do?" Gisela squinted as she observed the man in front of her and the entourage that slowly appeared behind her. They were all wearing black cloaks, making it impossible for Gisela to see their faces.

"Take out the fragment you've hidden in your chest. You certainly don't want me to come and get it myself, do you?" The man's tone was icy as he placed his index finger on the trigger, for he knew everything about the princess before him.

He knew that she was just like an ordinary person now, and besides himself, there were 15 magic users around him, and his wife, Lia, was also there. She was a genius magic user from Milan Academy. When he thought of Lia, Andrei's gaze drifted to the tall woman standing to the side, whose appearance was covered by a cloak.

"Since I have nowhere to escape, can you tell me how you found out about my movements?" Gisela did not immediately answer the man in front of her, but asked this irrelevant question.

"Do you think I have an obligation to tell you?" Andrei suddenly burst into laughter, which Gisela found extremely offensive.

"You know what? Isn't it quite interesting to let someone die without knowing why? As for these boring things, let the lovely princess find her own troubles on the road. Andrei is definitely not a talkative villain."

"But it's certainly amusing to see the surprised expressions on the faces of your Emperor and Sissi's daughter, that bitch! Hahaha!"

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to your beloved princess? Her most trusted maid?" Andrei sneered, glancing at the back of the line before her companion, with a familiar figure, stepped to the front.

“You should be very familiar with Miss Rita Kodigi von St. Gallen; she’s your personal maid,” Andrei said sarcastically, his smile widening.

PS1: Remember to wear more clothes as it gets colder!

Chapter 58 Princess Starting from Zero: Capter 58 Betrayer (Please collect and vote)

“Rita, you…” Gisela had suspicions about Rita, and this was part of her expectation, but when she actually saw her own worthless maid on the opposing side, she still felt a little disappointed. After all, the original owner of this body was really emotionally and memory-wise dependent on this maid who had taken such good care of her…

"So all my information came from you?" Gisela asked knowingly, she was just confirming, and silence was Rita's best answer.

“Your Highness, Italy needs freedom, and I cannot refuse the request from my compatriots.” Rita was no longer the reserved and low-key person she had been before Gisela. Now, she appeared completely calm and at ease. After all, wasn’t such a secret a torment for Rita herself?

Gisela was naturally unaware of this, but she hoped that was the case, because it would at least prove that the feelings and bond between them were real and not fake.

"Did you join this organization while you were studying in Milan?" Gisela asked, looking at her own maid, who was now "someone else's."

"And my roster and the borrowed painting were all your doing. The roster was to get me out of the school's investigation. You know I don't like being passive. I asked you to borrow a copy, but you borrowed the real painting instead, just to use my name to investigate this secret, right?"

"I've doubted Rania several times, but I've never doubted you. Because you've been with me day and night, I've always considered you family. In the end, in your heart, all the little things we've shared over the years are less important than that vague and ethereal ideal?"

Gisela's words, while not exactly thunderous, were certainly touching, especially to the maid in front of her. She also believed that Rita could not possibly have been insincere for so many years and had no concern for Gisela at all.

"Your Highness! Do you really understand yourself?" Rita suddenly asked, her words sounding quite out of place, even confusing and perplexing.

"What do you mean?" Gisela tilted her head, her blue eyes scrutinizing the woman standing before her.

“Your Highness, people are always making choices. Between relatives, between families, between ethnic groups, between nations, there is deception and concealment. They wear masks, and in the end, only they know who they are and for whom they fight.” Rita raised her head, her silver-gray hair appearing as if it were coated with a golden coat in the firelight, dreamlike yet real.

“I haven’t grasped it, but I hope you can.” Rita’s tone was emotional, quite different from usual, as if she was desperately trying to convey something, yet it also sounded like a self-plea.

As those words were uttered, in a barely perceptible place, a figure also draped in a black cloak trembled slightly.

“Enough! You’ve said too much, Miss Rita.” Andrei turned his head to look at Rita beside him. As his wife Lia’s twin sister, the two really looked alike. His serious expression just now made him completely see Rita as Lia. He also knew that compared to his emotional wife, his sister-in-law was more like an iceberg, revealing no emotion and unwilling to get close to anyone…

He didn't care about Rita, but he believed he had given a lot to his wife, Leah, even though it was a political marriage. Although he was a playboy and eccentric, he didn't think he had wronged Leah.

"So you think you have victory in your grasp now, and I'm completely powerless to fight back?" Gisela had calculated the time perfectly, knowing that it was time for her trump card to come into play.

"Hmph! Whether it is or not, it cannot change your fate, Your Highness, the pride of the Austrians. It's time for this touching farewell. Your death and the Iron Crown will become our first gift to the newly born Kingdom of Italy." Andrei tightened his grip on the index finger, ready to pull the trigger and declare victory in the next second.

"Tsk!" Gisela bit her lip, trying to mobilize her so-called magical energy and attempt to open her magical energy shield as instructed in the textbook.

“Sav Ivan…” Before Andrei could finish speaking, a dagger flashed past his side and stabbed straight at his back. At this moment, not only Andrei, but none of his attendants were able to react to this unexpected move.

"Wait a minute! Lia! What...are you doing!" Andrei stared in astonishment at his wife beside him. She was the one who had plunged the dagger into his back, and she was the one he loved.

"Excuse me, you remnants of Italy, your days are numbered!" At this moment, "Lia" narrowed her eyes, just like when she killed the man who wanted to harm Gisela that day. Her seemingly calm face was already filled with a sense of justified anger.

“This stab is for the innocent people in the church.” Rita’s tone was icy, and her movements showed no sign of abating.

"This knife was for my family."

"This strike was for my prince."

"As for this last stab, it's for myself." Rita stabbed the dagger in and out, stabbed it in and out again, repeating this four times. Her seemingly calm voice was like that of a judge pronouncing a verdict to a sinner, leaving no room for doubt.

“Although it hurts a lot, you won’t die so easily, because these wounds aren’t vital. You’ll bleed slowly, and your breathing will become difficult until all the filthy blood in your body is drained. Only then can you die, and death will be your best end.” Andrei coughed up blood, struggling to cover his wounds. When he turned his head in panic to look at his wife and Rita, he was surprised to find two identical women standing there, looking at him.

"Impossible, this is impossible! When did you two switch places? Didn't you swear allegiance to Savoy and Italy?!"