The Poles' letter seeking peace had naturally been written by Franz, its contents modeled after Alexander's reforms in history.
This farce in Poland should have come to an end. Franz's objective had long since been achieved; any further sacrifice and slaughter would be meaningless.
Franz knew Nicholas I's taboos and sore spots well. The Polish leaders' so-called self-exile was merely a smokescreen.
Nicholas I could never accept it, and it would be more fitting for the Russians themselves to propose wiping them out to the last.
Of course, even if Nicholas I truly wished to spare those people, Franz would not allow it. The Polish Restorationists were a nuisance not only to Russia, but to Austria as well.
To prevent the same thing from playing out on Austrian Empire soil, Franz had to strike first.
Poland, Warsaw.
Landry Promis found it hard to believe. Not long ago, those people had still been his loyal followers, willing to sacrifice themselves and fight for him.
Yet now, just to save their own lives, they wanted him dead. What a pack of trash with no ideals and no faith.
Landry Promis could not accept this fate. He would not die a martyr like Father Alexander; he wanted to live, to change this pitiful world.
As hurried footsteps rang out, the Polish National Salvation Committee's troops had already surrounded the entire inn.
"Mr. Promis? Are you in there?"
A knock sounded at the door. The captain in the lead spoke respectfully, as he always had. Yet the team members beside him were already standing at the ready. They had never imagined that one day they would become enemies of their own nation's hero.
But all this could only be blamed on the Russians for being too cruel. They, too, only wanted to live. The