Vienna.
Since Thalia had been eating too many hearty meals lately and had put on some fat, Franz decided to supervise her weight loss.
Thalia braced herself against the ground with both hands while Franz read the newspaper, resting his legs across her waist.
"As a teacher, you should lead by example. You're so fat, you'll damage the royal image."
"Damn brat, I'm not a gym teacher." Thalia was clearly reluctant.
"But a pillow that's too soft can affect your sleep quality," Franz said offhandedly, his attention still on the newspaper.
Austria's frenzied investment in railways had directly exposed the country's lack of pig iron production.
Seeing a business opportunity, the merchants naturally weren't going to sit idly by. In a single year, Austria gained ten new steel mills.
It was expected to surpass Prussia within a year or two, though it would still lag far behind Britain and France.
Still, it was a good start for Austria's industrialization.
After the old emperor died, the entire Austrian Empire was plunged into chaos.
To ease his frustration, Franz kept teasing Thalia.
"As the royal family's governess, you need to exercise self-discipline."
"I know that without you telling me," Thalia replied indignantly. After all, no girl liked being told she was fat.
"This is helping you strengthen your core. Push-ups can also improve your posture and perfectly sculpt the muscles of your shoulders, back, and upper body."
Before long, sweat had soaked her face, and both her arms were trembling uncontrollably. Franz knew she had reached her limit, so he lifted his legs away.
"Take a break. Don't push yourself."
"Why don't you do it, then!" Thalia demanded angrily, having just finished twenty push-ups.
"Because I'm stronger than you."
"I don't believe you!"
Franz dropped to the ground and did twenty one-handed push-ups. Thalia was utterly stunned.
Actually, the lighter you were, the easier push-ups were.
Franz's child-sized body gave him quite an advantage.
Franz grinned at Thalia, whose jaw had dropped.
"Fat Thalia."
The news of Francis II's death soon reached Prussia. William III was so delighted he nearly fainted.
He believed that an Austria led by an idiot could never measure up to his Prussia, no matter what.
The Tsar of Russia and the French cabinet were just as pleased. Austria's recent rise to power had left them on tenterhooks.
Francis II had ruled the Austrian Empire for forty years. Now that he had died and Ferdinand I, who had an intellectual disability, had ascended the throne, there was no doubt this would send shockwaves through every part of the empire.
No one yet knew how great an impact this upheaval would have on Austria. All they knew was that the newly appointed Chief Advisor had been dismissing all of the late emperor's advisors in a frenzy.
Prince Metternich, Kolowrat, and Austria's other power brokers had no choice but to personally bring Baron Bruck back to continue managing Austria's debt.
Some ministers had also objected to Ferdinand I's accession. Couldn't the throne go to the less severely ill Archduke Franz Karl instead? But the House of Habsburg had already approved the will.
The royal family's commands could not be changed, so they had no choice but to accept their fate.
They had no idea where this broken-down ship called Austria was headed.
After reading Ambrosius's letter, Franz felt there was no need to rush just because they couldn't meet the princess.
They could simply treat their trip to Chenla as a vacation. Of course, Ambrosius might see it that way, but the Catholic Church's priests certainly wouldn't agree.
So Franz suggested first establishing a base, using the excuse of helping government forces suppress bandits.
They shouldn't go to Phnom Penh Port, since it was within Vietnam's sphere of influence. They could go to Kampong Som instead—the place later known as Sihanoukville.
At this time, Kampong Som was little more than a remote fishing village. The less educated the people were, the easier they were to convert.
Once they had established a foothold in Kampong Som, the Chenlan royal family would contact them.
Chenla, Phnom Penh Port.
News that Ambrosius and his party had killed fourteen bandits in one night spread like wildfire.
Bandits ran rampant in Phnom Penh City, and the government troops were utterly helpless. The sound of Ambrosius's party firing their rifles was even mistaken for thunder.
Before long, the rumor began to shift toward claims that the foreign monks had magical powers.
Kuan Kim-pan also heard the news. He ordered the rumor suppressed, then began making arrangements for Ambrosius's itinerary.
Kuan Kim-pan realized that this group weren't lambs waiting to be slaughtered, but beasts with sharp fangs.
He just couldn't understand why these people had traveled such a great distance to Chenla to serve as military observers.
Kuan Kim-pan thought they were just Westerners who wanted to learn advanced techniques, but something about it still seemed off.
He didn't want to think too much about it. Right now, he just wanted to give them a show of force.
He would let them see the Chenla Imperial Guard, one of the strongest armies in the world.
Outside Phnom Penh City, at the Chenla Imperial Guard's parade ground.
This was the parade ground of Chenla's strongest force, the Imperial Guard.
Their duty was to protect the royal family. Ironically, the royal family was now under Vietnamese control, and King Ang Chan was not even in the royal palace in Phnom Penh.
The Vietnamese had also cut the Chenla Imperial Guard down to size, decreeing that its ranks could not exceed three thousand and that its soldiers could not wear iron armor.
Even so, the Chenla Imperial Guard still clung to its last shred of dignity. The troops had never abandoned their training and were undoubtedly Chenla's strongest force at the time.
Chenla's weather was hot and humid all year round, yet the Imperial Guard's soldiers remained fully armed.
They roared loud enough to shake the heavens, swung their broadswords with a whoosh, and thrust their spears with all their might, their tips nearly cutting through the air.
Hong Buf, commander-in-chief of the Imperial Guard, was very pleased with his soldiers' performance. It was a shame that the nation was in decline and he had no way to serve his country.
Kuan Kim-pan was deeply moved as well. Every time he visited the Imperial Guard's parade ground, he lamented: if His Majesty could return to the country and rally its spirit, how could they fear the eastern and western invaders—the Vietnamese and Siamese?
And yet, all this seemed unable to catch the attention of the young foreigner before them.
Kuan Kim-pan decided he had no choice but to use his trump card. He glanced at the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Guard, who understood what the head of the Foreign Affairs Office wanted. He just felt reluctant to waste the gunpowder and bullets.
At the commander-in-chief's order, four rows of soldiers carrying matchlock guns ran forward.
Fifty paces in front of the soldiers stood fifty straw dummies, each with a watermelon in place of its head.
"Load the powder!"
The Imperial Guard's soldiers began pouring gunpowder into the barrels.
"Ram it down!"
The soldiers tamped down the gunpowder in the barrels.
"Load the bullets!"
After more than ten commands, Hong Buf finally gave the order.
"Fire!"
The fifty soldiers in the first row of the Chenla Imperial Guard lit their match cords. But the cords varied in length and material.
When they fired, some shots came before others, making a chaotic racket.
As for these gunners, who could only fire three shots a year, their accuracy was pitiful. Only ten watermelons were blown apart.
Watching the smashed watermelons fly in all directions, Kuan Kim-pan and Hong Buf couldn't help cheering.
Seeing their two superiors so delighted, the Imperial Guard soldiers thought their overdue pay might finally be coming and cheered along with them.
After four volleys, they had fired two hundred shots and smashed just over thirty watermelons.
Kuan Kim-pan looked at Ambrosius, hoping to see surprise, fear, or admiration in his eyes. But all he saw was disappointment and contempt.
Even so, Kuan Kim-pan finally asked the question he had been wanting to ask.
"Does our great Chenla have any match in strength on the European continent?"
Before you continue