The Brescia Incident was not difficult to whitewash—or rather, there was no need to whitewash it at all. They only needed to change their angle of approach.
From the Italian perspective, of course, the priests and guerrillas who had slaughtered Austrian wounded in defiance of morality and faith deserved praise.
But from Austria's perspective, they absolutely did not. Though the Geneva Convention did not yet exist, slaughtering wounded soldiers inside a church was unquestionably deserving of condemnation.
Historically, however, the Austrian Empire's propaganda machine had been so hopeless that public opinion had turned against them over this incident. Franz would not make the same mistake.
After years of effort, Franz already had a powerful propaganda team at his disposal. From reporters and editors to distributors and printing presses, they could handle the entire process from start to finish.
This comprehensive system had plenty of drawbacks, but its advantage was that it was incredibly stable. Even if someone wanted to sabotage it, they would have no way in.
Franz understood the importance of first impressions. So he had immediately defined the Brescia Incident as a case of just revenge taken out of desperate necessity.
The Austrian army had faced shameless betrayal and a sneak attack—demons and faithless men who had taken refuge in God's house.
But the Austrian soldiers had not backed down. They had chosen to fight evil to the bitter end, refusing to bow even if it meant heaven itself was shattered.
Just like that, public opinion swung completely in the opposite direction. After all, nobody liked sneak attacks or betrayal, and the so-called Italian nationalism had no moral ground to stand on.
Besides, this was Venetia, territory belonging to the Austrian Empire. The Austrians were the victims, and their enemies were naturally the shameless aggressors.
Once the incident