Just as Adorno's thoughts were running wild, someone rode up from behind and loudly asked where General Cosport was.
Adorno noticed the red insignia on the rider's arm—it signified that he carried the most urgent news—and hurriedly pushed open the carriage door, waving at him. "Um, sir, has something happened?"
The rider turned to look over, evidently recognizing the leading figure of the "Slate Faction," and quickly reined in and came over.
The so-called Slate Faction was the political faction representing the Sans-culottes. It was named for Slate Street, where they had first gathered. The rider bent down, leaned close to Adorno, and whispered, "Councilman, Engelszell has fallen."
Adorno's mind went blank, and he froze where he was.
Engelszell was the last town on Austria's northwestern border. Losing it meant that the National Assembly's forces had been completely driven from Upper Austria—the core region of Austria.
Although everyone knew this was bound to happen, when it truly came, it still felt as though the world had suddenly collapsed. "Councilman, I must report to the Emergency Affairs Committee immediately."
Adorno stared blankly at the man's retreating back, repeating over and over in his heart: Perhaps I will never be able to return to Vienna again.
West of Engelszell, Andre O'Reilly, commander of the Austrian Western Army, frowned as he looked at the calmly flowing Inn River. He asked the staff officer beside him, "Are you certain they haven't reached Burghausen yet?"
"Yes, General," said the staff officer. "The fleeing column stretches for more than two leagues. We do not even need reports from our spies; countless people along the road have seen them."
O'Reilly gripped his riding crop tightly. After hesitating for a moment, he turned to the Orderly Officer and said, "Order Lieutenant Colonel Kleiner to lead the Hussars across