Chapter 126 Chapter 126 This is the meaning of "all victory"...
Ferdinand II slept very poorly.
When he woke up, he remembered he had been waiting for his personal physician, Giacomo. But somehow, he had drifted off to sleep. Just as he was trying to sit up, the king noticed a dark figure sitting beside his bed, quietly watching him in the afterglow of the setting sun.
"You should have woken me," the king accused.
"Should I?" the shadow replied quietly.
The king froze. As he rose, he felt something cold against his neck, something he had become incredibly familiar with over the years. He glanced down. The assassin had risen from the bedside and leaned toward him. The hidden blade gleamed coldly at his neck, forcing Ferdinand II back down.
"Do you think you can solve all this by killing me?" Ferdinand II sneered, "Ah, you thugs in the name of freedom! You will see, just like in 1848, without me, Italy will only fall into chaos..."
These were his last words. Elio slashed his hand and cut the king's throat, drawing blood.
"Your time is over, Your Majesty," Elio whispered. "Rest in peace."
The king chuckled, unable to answer. Elio withdrew his hand, but did not draw his Hidden Blade. His blade sliced through the king's nightgown, extracting the necklace with the red cross. With a single stroke, the Templar's highest honor fell into the hands of the assassin.
Elio didn't immediately put it away. He stared at the red cross in his hand for a moment, then looked back at Ferdinand II. He was indeed dead. The assassin had covered his eyes.
But just as the dust settled, footsteps sounded outside. Elio's eyes shot up, and he saw the doctor approaching. He was about to enter. That was just enough time for Elio to escape the room. He leaped from the bedside, but didn't lunge for the beautiful stained glass window.
When the doctor entered the chambers, they were deserted. Seeing the king lying peacefully in bed, unresponsive, he naturally approached. But as the door closed behind him, the assassin was behind him, his arm around his throat, his hidden blade drawn threateningly.
"Giacomo?" the assassin whispered.
The doctor dropped the box in his hand in shock. The guard outside the door must have heard the noise. "What's the matter, doctor?"
"If you yell, you'll understand," Elio said.
He could feel a shudder rolling down the doctor's throat. "…Nothing, sir! I'm just clumsy!"
"Very well, I don't want to cause any more bloodshed," Elio said. "Now let's get acquainted again, Giacomo. Are you a gentleman?"
“Yes…yes.”
"Do you keep your word?"
"Of course, I'm a gentleman!"
"Do you think our king deserves to die?"
The doctor turned his head, seemingly looking at the king on the bed. Elio thoughtfully pushed him over so he could get a better look. When he finally saw that it was the dead king, blood gushing from his throat, the doctor let out a whine that was half joy and half sorrow.
"He deserves to die!" Giacomo burst into tears and almost fell to his knees. "For God's sake, he should have died long ago! We never took his wound seriously, but he—"
"Shh, shh," Elliot said softly, supporting his body. "I understand. You've done well, Giacomo. But don't attract the guards' attention."
Giacomo covered his mouth and nodded vigorously. Elio slowly released him. As expected, Giacomo didn't scream, but his eyes widened with tears when he saw Elio walk out from behind him.
"This white robe! You are the one..."
"I am." Elio held out his hand, and Giacomo, flattered, quickly took it and shook it, not even noting that neither of them had removed their gloves. Elio paused, politely completing the handshake, then gestured toward the king on the bed. "Can you handle this?"
"Oh, uh, of course!" Giacomo looked at the king awkwardly. "I am a doctor after all."
"How did he die?"
"It's obvious," Giacomo said confidently after an examination. "His throat has been cut. Clean and neat, I have to say."
"Are you sure?"
"Well?"
Giacomo looked at Elio, his expression uncertain. The Assassin Mentor crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"Oh!" Giacomo suddenly realized, "He died of gangrene!"
Elio asked in a curious tone, "What is that?"
"Don't worry, it's a disease you can't see in public!" Giacomo said with relish. "People with this disease will get blisters all over their bodies. Even the slightest touch will cause a foul-smelling pus to ooze out. In some cases, the skin will rot away completely! The most important thing is," Giacomo said excitedly, leaning close to Elio and whispering to him, "it's a contagious disease!"
"...Excellent." What else could Elio say? He nodded and told the professional doctor, "I'll leave this to you."
If Ferdinand II knew that Elliot and Giacomo loudly conspired to determine his death over his corpse, he would have jumped out of bed in anger. Unfortunately, he had contracted gangrene, completely rotting away, and even becoming contagious. No one dared approach him, let alone touch him. Only the loyal doctor, Giacomo, dared to bury him. It was truly a moving story.
This is how Ferdinand II died in 1859. It was obviously a blessing for his people, because his son, Francesco II, was so incompetent that he lacked his father's courage in bombarding tens of thousands of civilians.
In 1859, the Kingdom of Sardinia joined forces with France to launch a war against Austria, and Austria finally withdrew from northern Italy in dismay.
The Sicilian people closely followed the war in the north. When the Austrians withdrew from Lombardy, they rejoiced like the northerners. But just as Giotto was writing his letter to congratulate Cozart (and before he had even finished it), Cozart's messenger rushed into the Vongola with even better news.
On May 10, 1860, Garibaldi landed in Sicily.
Since the general set out from Rome with only an expeditionary force of 1,000 men to fight against an army of 25,000 men (and 64 cannons!), the war was initially considered "crazy" and "absolutely impossible", but soon, as the Sicilians happily surrendered, the situation took a turn that the Bourbon dynasty had not expected.
Later, the war was considered a "miracle".
On the 15th, Garibaldi defeated his opponents, marched straight into Palermo.
In the early morning of the 27th, an uprising broke out in Palermo. With their cooperation, Garibaldi launched a strong attack and finally liberated Palermo.
On July 20, the Bourbon army launched a counterattack, but was defeated and retreated to Naples.
On August 18, Garibaldi went alone to call for surrender, and the enemy troops responded in large numbers, killing their generals who refused to surrender.
By this point, Garibaldi had successfully conquered a large portion of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Most of Francesco II's troops surrendered without a fight. Garibaldi pursued his forces all the way to the Volturno River, only to be intercepted by the last elite troops of the Bourbon dynasty. The battle-hardened general keenly realized that this was the final battle that would determine their success or failure.
Even with the full support of southern Italy, led by the Vongola, this was still a brutal war. Still, it was far less brutal than the Bourbon army's "suppression" of Sicily. Later, history would call it the Battle of the Volturno, the final battle before Italian unification.
On October 21, 1860, Garibaldi held a referendum. Southern Italy overwhelmingly voted to join the Kingdom of Sardinia, which was now Northern Italy.
On November 7, King Victor Emmanuel II of Sardinia, accompanied by Garibaldi, entered Naples, marking the unification of northern and southern Italy.
On March 14, 1861, the Kingdom of Italy was proclaimed, and the whole country celebrated with crowds of people.
This was the day of "everything won." Everyone was absolutely certain of this. The Assassins had infiltrated the Vongola and Simon celebrations. Giotto had long since learned this from Elio, though he often looked bewildered, unable to name the Assassins who had removed their hoods and donned their usual attire. They clearly enjoyed this rare opportunity to joke with the Vongola leader, swimming past him like fish, casually slipping him a handkerchief, a flower, and so on.
The Vongola people were naturally happy to see this happen, after all, it was their leader who was welcomed! And this confused Giotto stuffed with gifts was also a common sight before the war. Although they thought that the frequency of seeing him would probably be no less than a little in the future, what reason was there to stop it?
Only Gatlin frowned, but after Giotto quickly pointed out with a smile that a rosy rose petal had been stuck on his shoulder, his expression quickly turned helpless.
"It must have fallen from you," Gatlin said. He wanted to brush the petal away, but hesitated for a moment, finally gently picking it up and tucking it into Rambo's hair (who didn't notice it at all, busy tasting desserts with Elena and not even paying attention to Spedo's murderous gaze).
"No," Giotto tried to prove, "it was given to you by an assassin girl. I saw it with my own eyes!"
"Did you see her put it up there with your own eyes?"
"Uh! Well," Giotto scratched his hair, "Speaking of which, where is Elio?"
Just as Gatlin glared at Giotto for his overly obvious attempt to change the subject, Giotto suddenly had another apple thrust into his hand, which had just been lowered from behind his head. Luigi passed by them and pointed briskly, "The instructor is on the second-floor terrace!"
"Thanks!" cried Giotto.
It was obvious that Elio had gone into hiding again. He had never really liked being in overly lively situations, but Giotto certainly wasn't going to let him go. The Vongola leader's eyes flashed, and when the next hand approached, he grabbed it and turned back with a smile, asking, "Have you ever tried to hide anything on Elio?"
"Uh..." The assassin, whose hand was grabbed, was startled, "Sorry?"
"No, no, no," Giotto quickly released his hand, "I don't mind. I just want to know if you've ever done that!"
"Of course not," the assassin rubbed his wrist and said openly under Gatling's gaze, "How dare we!"
"You should really try it," said Giotto, laughing. "How about putting a leaf on his head?"
The assassin's eyes lit up, but he quickly shook his head and said regretfully, "We've never been able to get close to him without him noticing."
"But today is different," Giotto tried to persuade. "Today is a day for everyone to be happy! Besides, don't you want to give it a try? Don't you want to see what his expression will be?"
The assassin, who was pulling something out of his pocket, hesitated for a moment. He was undoubtedly tempted by the idea. But he said nothing. As if by magic, he pulled out two chocolate bars and quickly stuffed them into the arms of Giotto and Gatlin. "Here, you two!" the assassin said, smiling and bowing to them, then quickly disappeared into the crowd.
"It's starting to get messy," Giotto said, pleased. He unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite. Gatlin brought him a glass of lemonade. "It's too sweet," he remarked. But like Giotto, he chewed it carefully.
On the second-floor terrace, Elio, who was worrying about the glass of grappa in his hand, suddenly sneezed.
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The author has something to say: Oreo, get ready to enjoy the real-life rebellion I’ve prepared for you [狗头]
(Oreo: I didn’t sign up either!)
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