"You put it perfectly, Mr. Kossuth. So when do we make our move? I received reliable word that the traitors are meeting at the Pest Grand Hotel tonight. They claim they want to decide Hungary's fate anew."
Kossuth listened, sneering coldly.
"A bunch of brainless fools! That naturally wicked little devil in Austria has slaughtered people by the thousands in Vienna and Frankfurt. What makes them think he'd spare us?
Only 54 men survived the Battle of Pressburg. Of the 33,000 troops who fought to reclaim the territories occupied by the Austrians, fewer than 3,000 survived.
Is this what the Austrians call war? It's a massacre! Those idiots are throwing open the gates to invite the wolf in, and they'll only bring ruin upon themselves and others!
Tonight! I'll purge this bad blood from the Hungarian nation! They've intermarried with the Austrians, tainting their noble blood, and they still refuse to repent. They deserve to die!
Send for Chutkalai! Tell him the Hungarian nation needs him and his Self-Defense Force!"
The Pest Grand Hotel.
The old hotel blazed with lights tonight, its grounds surrounded by luxurious carriages and crowds of onlookers.
In truth, these men were still following the French model. Its advantage was that it made a grand spectacle; its drawback was that any ruler who didn't deliberately turn a blind eye could tell exactly what they were up to.
"Gentlemen! I have something to say. Please listen. Those students and Single-Garment Nobles led by Kossuth have no understanding of rules or order!
We, the true nobles and true Hungarians, can no longer accept such foolish leadership! We must take action!"
A well-dressed young nobleman raised his arm and shouted. The young men around him were all fired up, shouting along.
"True Hungarians, take action!"
They were just as