The Night Raid

Kuan Kim-pan was only briefly taken aback, but he didn't take this so-called member of the Austrian royal family seriously.

After all, Austria was a name he'd never even heard of. He figured it couldn't be any stronger than the Dutch. Chenla had defeated the Dutch in the past.

Though it had only been a small Dutch force, years of propaganda had transformed the story into one where the Chenla army had slain tens of thousands of red-haired devils in battle, while the rest trampled one another in their flight, countless men drowning at sea, until the Western barbarians submitted a plea for peace, declaring themselves vassals and offering tribute.

In the eyes of the people of Chenla, the Qing Dynasty, Vietnam, and Siam were the strongest nations in the world. Britain and France came next. Apart from those five countries, Chenla had no rivals anywhere under heaven.

Still, out of respect for the gold bars the other party had given him, Kuan Kim-pan told the truth.

"Our king, His Majesty Ang Chan, is not in the country. As for trade between our two nations, there will be no problem as long as you abide by our laws and pay the required taxes. Lord Ambrosius, if you wish to inspect the military bearing of Chenla's army, I can make arrangements."

Then Kuan Kim-pan glanced at the foreign monks beside them and said,

"The King of Vietnam hates Western missionaries. You'd best be careful. Don't wander the streets without reason. My men will arrange lodgings for you."

Ambrosius had wanted to press the matter further and see if he could meet the so-called princess.

But he remembered Franz's warning not to rush things, so he decided to be patient for now.

After all, he was supposedly here as a military observer, not to chase women.

He was somewhat worried about the priests, but these brothers in arms weren't as volatile as he'd imagined. Instead, they bought a batch of local clothes and did their best to dress like the locals.

A missionary named Pacini told Ambrosius,

"We're not afraid of death, so why should we fear waiting? You, on the other hand, Your Highness, risked your life to come here with us. You truly are a noble man."

Ambrosius felt a little embarrassed. He wondered what Father Pacini would think if he knew he'd come here just to chase women.

They also hired two dozen porters at the dock to help carry their luggage. When they reached the post station, they found the place barely fit for habitation. Though it was spacious, there were only four station attendants and a dozen odd-job workers, and the official in charge of the station had long since disappeared.

But when their heavy luggage hit the ground, the station attendants' eyes seemed to light up for a moment, before they slipped back into their half-asleep state.

By nightfall, after their long journey, everyone was utterly exhausted and had fallen into a deep sleep.

Outside the courtyard wall, a grappling hook was tossed up and caught on the top of the wall. Then a shadow climbed over and headed straight for the rear door's bolt.

The bolt was pulled free, and more than a dozen black-clad, masked men filed inside, their broad blades gleaming.

At their leader's direction, they split up, apparently intending to wipe out everyone in the post station.

The first black-clad man kicked open a room door. Before he could even shout his line, a powerful rifle blast hurled him back out.

In truth, not everyone was asleep.

Each night, an officer and four men took turns keeping watch. It was partly professional habit; they'd never let down their guard, not even aboard the ship. It was also because those men's eyes had seemed strange. Most importantly, their duty was to protect Archduke Ambrosius.

The moment the shadow climbed the wall, it was spotted, and the entire team went on alert.

At the first gunshot, the lights in the rooms came on. Dozens of rifles opened fire one after another, and the black-clad men were routed by the bright light and incoming bullets.

The battle ended in a flash. The gunfire stopped, and then the screams fell silent as well.

Of the fifteen black-clad men, all but one, who had barely escaped by lying flat on the ground, had been killed by bullets.

Sart, a monk whose face was covered in runes, hauled the lucky survivor to his feet and tossed him into the room.

The man still hadn't recovered from the battle. His body trembled uncontrollably, and the stench of urine rose from his lower half.

The officer on watch slapped him across the face, knocking out two of the black-clad man's teeth.

"Who are you? Why did you do this?"

The black-clad man stayed silent, and the officer raised his hand again.

"Lord Li An sent us."

"Who's Li An?" the officer pressed.

"..." The black-clad man stammered.

Another slap.

"He's the Vietnamese commander in charge of the docks. He took a fancy to your goods and sent us to steal them, and to cut off your heads and take them to Hue to claim credit."

The man's name was Yun Sheng. He was merely a minor official from Chenla, and fear of the Vietnamese had driven him to do this for Commander Li.

If he'd known he would get his brothers killed, he wouldn't have taken the job even if it cost him his life.

The two slaps had already nearly beaten him half to death, so he simply blurted out everything he knew.

Father Pacini asked,

"Then, my child, who are you?"

Yun Sheng knew the man before him was a foreign monk. Compared with the ferocious-looking men around them, this foreign monk seemed far easier to talk to.

He immediately clung to him like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline.

"Holy man, my name is Yun Sheng. I'm only a ninth-rank military official in Chenla. Please, have mercy and spare me."

Father Pacini shook his head.

"My child, the only one who can save you is yourself."

Yun Sheng didn't understand what the foreign monk meant.

Everyone else understood Father Pacini's intentions. Some watched Yun Sheng helplessly, others with a cold smile.

And so Yun Sheng was half-coerced into joining the church. Father Pacini was delighted and decided to open a bottle of red wine to celebrate.

But before long, Chenla's soldiers arrived. Seeing the corpses strewn across the ground, they couldn't help feeling awkward.

The officer in charge looked at the dozens of men behind him, then summoned his courage and said,

"How can you be so cruel, killing people at random?"

This was the first time Ambrosius had killed anyone. He'd only just managed to recover, and though his Chenla was poor, he could still tell that the man was trying to turn the blame back on them.

"Didn't you see that those men were armed? They broke into our lodging at night. What do you think they were after?"

"You foreigner, how devious! You think that with the dead unable to testify, I wouldn't dare arrest you? Men!"

But the Chenla soldiers in uniform behind the officer didn't dare step forward to arrest anyone. Instead, they prepared to flee.

After all, they had only sabers and spears, while the other side carried guns.

Chenla was very backward at the time. A battalion was lucky to have even a few matchlock guns. Even among the Vietnamese, matchlocks were scarce; cold weapons remained the main arms.

What's more, most of those matchlocks were shoddily made, and the odds of injuring the enemy were almost as high as the odds of injuring yourself.

Father Pacini, well versed in Southeast Asia's officialdom, spoke again.

"You're Chenla's government soldiers, aren't you? We're guests of Lord Kuan Kim-pan."

The Chenla officer immediately let out a long breath and put on a smiling face.

"So you're Lord Kuan Kim-pan's guests. We'll investigate this matter thoroughly and see that you receive justice."

Then he ordered his men,

"Carry the bodies away. The rest of you, get back to your posts. If any more petty ruffians disturb our honored guests, I'll hold you responsible."

Inside the post station.

"They call those men soldiers?" Ambrosius roared.

"Archduke Ambrosius, isn't this a good thing? As military observers, we're here first to learn advanced tactics, and second to understand their strength. Didn't the higher-ups send us to prepare for establishing a colony in the future?"

Another officer wholeheartedly agreed. They hadn't considered the matter in economic or political terms; they simply thought that since every European power had colonies, the Austrian Empire ought to have one of its own.

The Catholics around them thought the same. After all, preaching in a colony would be much easier than hiding and preaching like this.

Ambrosius sighed, wondering how he'd ended up with this pack of lunatics. There were only a few dozen of them, yet they wanted to establish a colony.

Ambrosius thought of that little brat in Vienna again and cursed inwardly,

So much for the princess!