Before either side could reach an agreement, word arrived at Hofburg Palace that the City Defense Force had returned to Vienna and begun suppressing the rebellion.
The negotiations had reached a complete deadlock. The balance of power had shifted, and the initiative had changed hands. The Vienna Court was no longer in any hurry to reach an agreement.
In the eyes of these archdukes, the conditions put forward by the bourgeoisie were an insult. If they had no other choice, they might have held their noses and accepted them to save their own skins.
Now the main force of the City Defense Force had returned, troops from around Vienna were on their way, and a regiment was guarding the palace.
The danger had passed, and everyone's thinking had changed. Archduke Louis no longer wanted to compromise with the capitalists, either.
Even if they were to carry out political reforms, they had to do so of their own accord, not because someone had forced them. That was crucial.
The rebellion was suppressed faster than Franz had expected. A rabble was a rabble. When faced with the army sent to put down the revolt, their first instinct wasn't to figure out how to defeat the enemy, but to run.
There was no helping it. The rebels had mounted a few attempts to resist at first, but the City Defense Force had scared them witless. Albrecht had even deliberately let the fleeing soldiers escape, spreading the fear of defeat.
While pressing the military offensive, Franz also launched a political one. In his capacity as heir to the throne, he declared, "The ringleaders will be punished; those coerced into joining will not be held to account."
In this era, the Habsburg Family still held considerable sway in Austria. With Franz's guarantee, many rebel soldiers who had been swept up in the revolt surrendered without hesitation.
The residents of Vienna who had suffered at the rebels' hands now came forward to help the army suppress the rebellion. Without the people's support, the rebels had become a duckweed with no roots.
Although the army's campaign was going smoothly, Franz could not bring himself to feel happy. Looking at the ruined buildings, he knew that this battle had set Vienna's economy back by at least five years.
But Franz had no time to grieve just then. He still had to reassure the people. After being ravaged by the rebels, the residents of Vienna were shaken and vulnerable.
As heir to the throne, Franz naturally had to bring them the warmth of spring and rescue them from their suffering.
"Your Highness, the road to the palace has been cleared!" a guard said excitedly.
Franz smiled faintly. It was good news, and meant that the situation was settled. The rebels had failed to seize control of the Emperor, so their defeat was now inevitable.
"Send word to His Majesty the Emperor. I'll go over as soon as I've finished dealing with things here!"
Politics was dark. To claim the greatest share of the spoils, Franz would first put down the rebellion and stabilize the city, then return in triumph, riding high on his victory.
Otherwise, if he went back now, the Regency Council might try to seize the initiative from him. When it came to power, he had no interest in gambling on the integrity of those politicians.
Franz had no idea that Prime Minister Metternich had already fled, that Count Kolowrat was no longer at the palace, and that only Archduke Louis and his father remained on the Regency Council.
At this point, even if Archduke Louis wanted to seize the initiative, he could not. Unless Ferdinand I personally stepped in, Franz would be the one to reap the greatest political capital from this rebellion.
A young man urged him anxiously, "Father, we must leave now. If we wait any longer, it'll be too late!"
The middle-aged man's expression was bleak. He glanced back at his estate and climbed into the carriage with a helpless sigh.
That was none other than Owen, one of the major capitalists who had masterminded the rebellion. He had none of his usual confidence now; he looked as though he had aged a dozen years.
When the City Defense Force had returned to suppress the rebellion, they hadn't taken it seriously. In just a few days, the rebels' numbers had swelled to more than fifty thousand.
But after their first clash, everyone knew they were finished. Once the regular army let loose, how could this rabble possibly stand against it?
It was nothing like the early days of the rebellion, when the soldiers had still been wary of them and hadn't dared to hit them too hard.
Now the whole scene had changed. They brought out the cannons and fired straight into the densest crowds. The rebels had never seen anything like it. Before they could even react, they had already been routed in a daze.
"After we leave, who knows when we'll be able to come back? Decades of hard work, all wiped out in a single day," Owen sighed.
"At a time like this, why say all that? We can always start over somewhere else," the young man said nonchalantly.
If not for the worry between his brows, one might have thought he truly didn't care.
Though capital knew no borders, in reality, starting over somewhere new in this era was no easy matter.
Without the connections they had spent years cultivating, they might arrive in an unfamiliar place only to be swallowed up without a trace.
They had done plenty of things like that themselves. You could say that every capitalist's original accumulation of capital was drenched in blood.
By rights, a major capitalist like Owen had no reason to get personally involved in a revolution. Unfortunately, they had poured too much money into driving up prices earlier. They had hoped to make a fortune, but instead they had gambled away their own capital.
If they did not start a revolution, most of their assets would end up in the banks' hands, leaving them crippled and in decline.
The lure of profit was powerful. Egged on by their peers, Owen had decided to risk everything. If they failed, they could always flee.
And now, they really did have to flee. If they stayed in Austria, even if the government did not come after them, their fellow capitalists—who had suffered heavy losses—would take their lives.
The reason the rebellion's internal contradictions had flared up so quickly was not just Franz's planning; infighting among the capitalists had also played a part.
Business rivals were enemies. Even at a time like this, the capitalists had wanted to strike at their competitors and monopolize the market for themselves.
Killing with a borrowed knife was naturally the best option. They could use the revolution as an opportunity to plunder their rivals' wealth, even take their lives, and then pin the blame on the government troops.
If the revolution had succeeded, their scheme would have worked. Unfortunately, they had fallen at the final hurdle. Once they saw that the cause was hopeless, the clever ones fled before the rebellion had even been crushed.
In Austria, as long as you had money, you could settle most things. Rebellion was the exception.
By then, even money could not get them out of trouble. Anyone who had been involved could forget about the Vienna Government showing mercy.
Owen and his son were far from the only ones fleeing. Everyone involved—capitalists, nobles, and politicians who had hoped to profit from the turmoil—was now fleeing Vienna, the eye of the storm.
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