Greater Illyria, Croatian Province.
The news arrived, and the whole nation mourned. Wails echoed through the mountains, and even heaven and earth changed color. Everywhere, people could be heard weeping with heart-rending grief.
Tears blurred their vision. Some knelt and covered their faces, some pounded their chests and stamped their feet, some were consumed by grief and indignation, and some could not let go of their hatred.
Even the little children were swept up in the mood, and tears spilled from their eyes before they knew it.
As subjects of the Austrian Empire, the Croats grieved from the bottom of their hearts. Yet their weeping carried a fierce, murderous edge.
At the time, large numbers of Hungarians lived within the Kingdom of Croatia-Slavonia. Though the war had been raging for a long time, most people still lived much as they had before, with the exception of the few who had openly risen in rebellion.
The so-called Magyars in history were simply the five hundred thousand Hungarians with noble status and the one million commoners who held the status of freemen.
In truth, most Hungarians were serfs, and the policies that should have benefited them had little impact in practice— even less under Franz's intervention.
The revolution had little to do with these people, and naturally, they didn't feel much over the death of Archduke Stephen either. They seemed numb, yet they worshipped the Kossuth faction that had killed a member of the royal family with extraordinary fervor.
Where some people wept, others laughed. That was simply the way of the world. Even those who mocked the mourners could be understood, in some people's eyes.
But now, some people laughed until they didn't anymore. Cities, wilderness, hillsides; guns, hammers, sickles, even stones.
In the end, the laughter was drowned out by