The fifty-something sans-culotte fearlessly picked up another stone and stepped forward, ready to throw it at the officer.
Both of his sons had died in Northern Italy, casting a shadow over his life, and now he feared nothing.
“Wait,” Scheller hurriedly waved to the crowd, “What are you doing? Fall back!”
No one paid him any mind.
The distance between the sans-culotte and the army grew ever smaller.
The Hungarian officer again shouted, “Last warning. Leave immediately!”
A stone landed less than an elbow’s length from his side.
He snorted coldly and swung down his sword, “Fire!”
The dense “bang bang” sounds rang out instantly, large plumes of white smoke rising into the sky. The ten sans-culottes at the forefront immediately fell backwards.
The others were instantly shocked, screaming as they turned to flee.
Scheller was so frightened he covered his head and squatted on the ground, until he was lifted by his companions. He quickly glanced over himself and, seeing no wounds, barely managed to move his legs to run with them.
“Why, why did they fire?”
His trembling mouth uttered inarticulate sounds.
“I saw a pamphlet saying the Emperor deemed this a rebellion and intended to suppress it with soldiers.”
“Rebellion? We were just petitioning…”
“Shut up and run!”
A few young nobles ran all the way to the outskirts, and seeing no soldiers in pursuit, were about to catch their breath when they suddenly heard the sound of dense footsteps at the end of the street.
Scheller hadn’t yet reacted when several hundred panicked protestors charged toward them.
Then, he saw more than a dozen gleaming bayonets appear at the corner.
He hastily lifted his sore legs and ran with them.
However, when the crowd in front reached the intersection ahead, they suddenly stopped, looking around in horror.
Scheller was filled with an ominous sense of foreboding. When he too reached the intersection, he saw protestors in every direction, numbering more than a thousand.
And across the street, there were over two hundred soldiers, glaring and holding their guns at the ready.
Soon, an officer shouted at the crowd: “I order you to comply with the martial law and return to your homes immediately. Anyone still here in 3 minutes will be executed for rebellion.”
The crowd instantly erupted.
Most people lowered their heads and fled, but nearly a quarter of them continued to push forward, shouting, “Don’t back down, everyone!”
“The Emperor is using Hungarian scum to kill us!”
“Drive these Hungarians out!”
“We outnumber them, get them…”
The result was people jostling in all directions, unable to move an inch.
About ten minutes later, the Hungarian officer, seeing the rebels unmoved, drew his sword, “Prepare—”
Scheller felt a chill in his hands and feet.
He knew these fellows wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.
But surrounded by people, he had nowhere to hide.
Amidst the chaos of screams, curses, and rallying cries, he heard Hungarian, “Aim—”
He hurriedly covered his head and stopped, mumbling, “Jesus protect us, Jesus protect us…”
“Fire…”
The Hungarian officer had just uttered the first syllable when a burst of gunfire came from behind him on the side.
Two Hungarian soldiers on the far right grunted and collapsed to the ground.
The Hungarian ranks fell into disarray, turning around en masse.
Just behind a nearby building, three or four dozen people in Austrian military uniforms were frantically reloading their guns.
There was still some lingering smoke around them, indicating they had just launched a sneak attack.
The Hungarian officer was taken aback; his orders were to disperse the rebels, but not to engage the military.
He frowned and yelled angrily, “Idiots, which unit are you from? The mob is that way!”
The Austrian soldiers reloaded their guns and raised their flintlock guns again. A lieutenant among them shouted, “We are taking over here. You must withdraw from Vienna immediately.”
Both sides were silent for seven or eight seconds before the lieutenant decisively ordered, “Aim—
“Fire—”
The Hungarians were baffled. Seeing their officer not ordering a counterattack, they began to retreat.
However, the protest crowd behind them had already surged forward.
The Hungarian soldiers, unable to turn and fire in time, were quickly swallowed up by four or five hundred people, beaten with sticks and stones raining down on them.
A few dozen Austrian soldiers from the side of the street rushed up to help beat back the repression forces.
Scheller was finally “freed,” pressing his trembling hands to his face, looking blankly at the scene at the street corner.
What on earth was happening?
Why was the Emperor sending soldiers to shoot his own people?
And who were these soldiers that saved him?
Has the world gone mad…
A nearby companion grabbed him forcefully: “Labo, what are you doing? Run!”
Scheller jolted, about to move, when he suddenly spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.
He immediately widened his eyes, throwing off his companion’s hand and stumbling toward the street corner, shouting with a hoarse voice, “Lucas! Is that you?”
A Hungarian soldier, sprawled on the ground, struggled to fend off protestors with his buttstock, but it landed right on Scheller’s leg.
“Oof…”
Scheller staggered in pain, but then a young soldier rushed over, quickly supporting him and kicking the Hungarian’s chin.
The moment he saw the newcomer, Scheller’s eyes turned red with emotion.
It was his youngest son.
Disregarding the pain in his leg, he hugged his son tightly, voice trembling, “Thank Jesus, it’s really you! Why are you here?”
The young man exclaimed, “Father, why are you here?”
He helped his father to the side of the street, “Our instructor said the Emperor had been deceived and was going to massacre the citizens. I came to stop it. Thank goodness we arrived in time, thank Jesus!”
Scheller was dumbfounded, “You’re saying those Hungarian troops were really sent by His Majesty the Emperor?”
“Apparently His Majesty was swayed by Tugut’s opinion. That damn traitor!”
Scheller’s lips trembled as he looked at his son, “But, but this is rebellion…”
He suddenly grabbed his son’s arm, “Come home with me immediately. With so many people here, no one will notice you.”
Lucas stood still like a post, shaking his head, “Father, many more will die. I must save them. I must save the country.”
Scheller grew frantic, “Fool! You can’t save anyone, come home with me!”
“I just saved you,” Lucas calmly replied.
Scheller halted in his tracks.
The young man continued, “There are seven or eight hundred new recruits who decided to help the citizens. Oh, and we stole the guns from the training camp, we have several thousand firearms.”
As he spoke, he gestured with his head.
Scheller indeed saw two carts distributing flintlock guns to the crowd. Some were picking up guns dropped by Hungarian soldiers.
His eyes were full of fear, “No, no, you can’t join the rebellion, you’ll get killed!”
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