1:30 PM.
The Place Saint-Marie, which could easily accommodate tens of thousands of people, was already overflowing with people everywhere except for the road through which the emperor used to enter and exit.
Heavily armed Storm Special Combat Teams and guard units from the First Army Group were deployed throughout the venue, while the largest police force maintained order on the perimeter.
The square had been noisy for hours, from morning until now, but now, with the soldiers' shouts, the noise finally began to subside.
But at the same time, everyone stood up and looked at the straight road leading to St. Marienplatz.
The Emperor of the Empire, von Palen, is about to arrive here.
On the Westerlies Bell across the square, the hands turned slowly, and the sound of horses' hooves gradually approached from afar, filling the silent square.
The rhythmic rumble of hooves filled the air as people craned their necks in anticipation. A black chariot drawn by twelve warhorses gradually came into view. They had all seen this chariot, the one used by Von Palen, before, on New Year's Eve.
But this time, the vehicle has clearly undergone a change.
The carriage, which should have been open and airy, was now covered by black iron plates, resembling a giant box. Four black flags were stuck at the four corners of the carriage, and the people standing in front of it were not von Palen, but six fully armed members of the Storm Special Combat Team.
Upon seeing their leather coats, many people present frowned. Although this was a unit directly under Von Palen's command, they did not have a good impression of the Storm Special Combat Team.
Aside from these two changes, the warhorses pulling the chariots no longer wore bright red embroidered totem-patterned clothing, but instead were all dressed in silver soft armor, as if they were about to charge into battle.
The knights accompanying the carriage were also dressed in heavy armor and carried weapons, as if a battle was about to break out at any moment.
These changes, so different from New Year's Eve, gradually made people realize that today was extraordinary. As a result, the initial excitement gradually subsided, and people's faces began to become solemn.
Finally, just before two o'clock, the chariot arrived at St. Marienplatz and slowly stopped in front of the prepared podium. Although many important figures from the country were already standing behind the podium, the eyes of the people were all focused on the chariot.
There has only ever been one truly important person: Emperor von Palen.
With a "click," the sound of the carriage door opening echoed throughout the square, almost clearly audible to everyone. People standing at the back of the square stood on tiptoe and craned their necks to look ahead.
Then, as soon as just a sliver of a hat peeked out from the carriage, the entire square suddenly erupted in cheers.
"Fonpalen!"
"Fonpalen!"
"Fonpalen!"
The shouts, as loud as a mountain and as powerful as a raging sea, rang out incessantly.
Although many people had questioned the government and Von Palen because of the negative comments on the leaflets and the bad news of repeated defeats on the front lines, most people sincerely believed that as long as Von Palen was still there, he would definitely be able to save the country.
He had already saved the country once twelve years ago, and now they still firmly believe that this man can save the country again.
But at that moment, it was Stormtroopers leader Bowerman who stepped out of the carriage, which immediately silenced many of the crowd's voices.
Like the Stormtroopers, they also disliked Bowerman.
Bowerman, who had just stepped out of the carriage, also lowered the brim of his hat somewhat awkwardly.
But only for a few seconds.
When another person stepped out of the carriage, the shouts rang out again, even surpassing the previous ones, reaching their peak. The young people in the crowd were flushed, trembling with excitement, raising their arms and shouting hoarsely:
"Fonpalen!"
"Fonpalen!"
Wearing a neat military uniform, Feng Palen walked slowly out of the carriage with a faint smile on his face and waved to the crowd.
"His Majesty!"
It's so nice to see you!
"His Majesty!"
"Fonpalen!"
"Oh my god, you've finally arrived!"
A cacophony of voices rose and fell, but Feng Palen, his face flushed and full of energy, strode onto the stage, waving his arms as he did so.
His energetic demeanor immediately lifted the spirits of many, and their solemn expressions blossomed into smiles, as if all the gloom in their hearts had been swept away at that moment.
"Thump!"
The Westerlies Bell in the southeast corner of the square rang precisely at 2 p.m.
At that moment, Von Palen stepped onto the podium.
He cleared his throat and placed his hand on the stage, instantly silencing all the noise in the square.
Von Palen surveyed the entire square, his expression turning solemn. After a few seconds, he spoke in a resounding voice:
"I am delighted to see you, my compatriots, standing before me now, still full of energy. I can see the fighting spirit in the face of each and every one of you!"
"This is what I want to see! I believe in..."
"You are the murderer!!!"
A shout suddenly rang out, coming from somewhere in the square, the sound particularly shrill, just as the sentence itself conveyed.
But Von Palen did not stop his speech because of this statement; he continued, "I believe that in the time to come..."
"Murderer!!!"
The screams rang out again, and Von Palen frowned slightly. He knew the guards were arresting the troublemaker, and it wouldn't be long.
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