The words had barely left his mouth when von Palen was struck dumb, clutching his forehead, his face turning deathly pale. He pointed a breathless finger at Wolfgang:
"Are you hoping for setbacks on the front lines? What are you talking about?"
Wolfgang then belatedly realized he had said the wrong thing again. His face flushed, and after a few seconds of thought, he finally spoke:
"Your Majesty! I believe a victory will soon be reported from the front!"
"Yes! That's right! News of victory may be on its way!"
Exhausted, Feng Palen slumped into a chair, unable to utter another word. The constant stream of battle reports had further reduced his already limited sleep. Although the northeastern region of the empire had not been invaded by the Yan people, it had been plagued by unrest in the past two weeks.
Fortunately, he had anticipated this and made preparations in advance. The troops stationed there were maintaining stability, but this also led to internal and external difficulties, making it impossible to concentrate all forces to deal with the invading Yan people.
The leaflet posted on the statue of St. Mary the Goddess today had already been seen by many people before it was taken away by the police. Given the current setbacks on the front lines, Von Palen has reason to believe that highly inflammatory leaflets like this could mislead the public.
In fact, the secret report recently delivered by Bowerman has already shown that it is not only the Kosovo rebels who are inciting the people, but also the restorationists, and even some Golts are among them.
Von Palen couldn't understand why all the sharp contradictions were erupting at this moment.
"I need a victory..." he finally muttered to himself, his hands supporting his forehead as he leaned over the conference table.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
