She changed Europe

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“Then next time I visit Bismarck in person, I’ll have a good talk with her about your education.” Gisela was, after all, an adult at heart, and occasionally putting on such an adult air was nothing unusual to her.

"Are you sure? Are you still going to keep arguing?" Chloris suddenly narrowed her eyes, and the next second she grabbed Gisela's shoulders and forcibly pressed her to the ground.

She had actually been restraining herself for a long time. According to Chloris's original personality, she would do anything to get what she liked, whether it was feelings or people. She only cared about the result. And this was the first time she had ever cultivated feelings "slowly".

"Let me go!"

Chloris ignored Gisela and decisively straddled her, using her legs to clamp Gisela's waist and restrict her movement.

"I don't need your permission to do what I want to you!"

“Not a sister…” Gisela was about to retort, but Chloris once again silenced her with her lips. Chloris’s softness and sweetness, like a fine and mellow wine, became even more alluring as their interaction continued.

"Hmm..." Gisela didn't realize that the sound she was making was like a well-behaved little kitten, not only lacking in authority but even sounding like she was being affectionate.

With Gisela's cheeks flushed and her chest heaving violently from lack of oxygen, their lips finally parted.

"Everything you have can only be mine, that's right, only mine!" Chloris roughly tugged at Gisela's clothes, then bit down hard on her neck—no, not a kiss, but a bite!

Her fair, snow-white skin, a symbol of a young girl's beautiful youth, was now flushed red due to Chloris's presence. Driven by her nature, Chloris revealed her true thoughts, reaching out and grabbing Gisela's tail as if grasping an object, skillfully fiddling with the cartilage on Gisela's fox tail with her fingers.

At this moment, it seemed she had grasped fate by the throat...

at the same time--

Nina followed Gisela's horse tracks quickly, but the tracks eventually disappeared at the edge of a nearby embankment. With no tracks left, Nina was forced to dismount and tie the horse to a tree trunk. Relying on her magical senses, she then searched for the two princesses on foot.

Finally, she sensed a distinct magical aura, like a beacon, near a large tree. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief. Once she passed that tree, she could finally give an explanation to her elder brother. After all, she would have found her future sister-in-law and cousin, and of course, she would have found that strange Prussian princess as well.

Although she didn't want her brother to marry any woman and thus take away his attention and love for her, Nina felt that her brother's happiness was far greater than her own, and she was willing to give up her own happiness for his sake.

"Mmm! Ah!" A seductive voice reached Nina's ears, sounding extremely erotic to her. Nina quickly realized why this voice was being made.

As the daughter of the Bavarian Regent, she was a princess from a prestigious family. Although she didn't understand the process of love between men and women, she learned quite a bit about it from her maids, since her father had had similar experiences with other women...

"No! What am I thinking!" Nina shook her little golden head, banishing all the unclean thoughts from her mind. At the same time, a vague unease crept into her heart. What if the person behind this tree was her brother's sweetheart, betraying her mother like her father had? What would she do then? Although her observations over the past few days had shown that Princess Gisela wasn't such a shameless person, one can never truly know a person's heart.

Thinking of this, Nina took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and cautiously peeked out to observe the situation behind the tree.

And so, this beautiful scene was deeply etched into the girl's mind.

PS1: The update is a little late 0v0!

Chapter 264 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter125 My brother got cheated on? (Seeking votes)

The two naturally beautiful women embraced each other, their bodies pressed together as they swayed and moved. A subtle atmosphere permeated the air, and their soft breathing greatly stimulated Nina's senses. She couldn't help but frown and curse the other woman inwardly for her shamelessness, yet she also stopped to observe with a sense of natural curiosity.

"My future sister-in-law is with that Prussian woman!" A voice inside Nina screamed, telling her that if she didn't stop it, everything would be over! But for Nina, letting her sister-in-law be tricked by that Prussian woman wasn't necessarily a bad thing!

"Am I betraying my brother?" Nina was caught in a dilemma, unsure of what to do.

Nina shook her head vigorously, bit her lip, and finally made a decision. She turned around and left the scene as if she were running away. No matter what, Nina felt that it was better for her brother to know about this, so that her brother and that womanizing sister-in-law could both be freed!

Watching the magical energy fluctuations disappear behind the tree trunk, Chloris's lips curled up slightly, and then she looked with interest at Gisela, who had been thoroughly bullied beneath her.

Although the little fox resisted fiercely, it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot against an experienced woman.

However, his actions today can be described as killing two birds with one stone: on the one hand, he gained the opportunity to communicate with the little fox in a simple and profound way, and on the other hand, he could also break Gisela's existing engagement.

Ideally, the little girl hiding behind the tree would tell Leopold about this, and he would then choose to back down, since his woman is currently being wantonly played with by him.

This strange sense of conquest kept Chloris constantly entertained, which is why she took advantage of noble ladies and wives in Berlin. Thankfully, she wasn't a man; otherwise, it would have been a huge disaster for the relationship between the Prussian royal family and the Junker aristocracy.

"Cl...Lor...Lis! I...won't let you get away with this." Gisela's voice trembled and lacked confidence, still reeling from what had just happened. After all, she had really messed up this time, although upon reflection, she hadn't really suffered a loss. But then again! Isn't it his specialty as a man to act innocent after getting the benefit?

"Oh? Really? How about we do it again?" Chloris first looked at the dew on the grass, then looked at Gisela with a mischievous grin.

"The weather is so nice today." Gisela shrank her little golden head and became unexpectedly well-behaved.

Meanwhile, in Milan, the capital of Lombardy...

The wall clock struck twelve. A middle-aged man in a white military uniform put down his pen, pushed back his chair, stood up, and stretched his arms to ease the stiffness in his body from sitting for so long. Although he was middle-aged, his long military service had given him a physique far stronger than his peers.

Field Marshal Ludwig von Benedek, one of the highest-ranking generals in the Austrian Empire, was serving as the Governor-General of Italy at the time, appointed by His Majesty the Emperor to guard Milan alongside Archduchess Freya.

However, the Grand Duchess was extremely busy with military affairs and had entrusted the administrative functions of the war to him. He was still aware of what was happening on the front lines. Although the Grand Duchess had suffered a defeat, His Majesty had achieved good results.

To be honest, Milan, as the core area of ​​this region, should have been a key city targeted by the enemy from the very beginning of the war. Fortunately, the sacrifices of the front-line troops made Milan's defenses much easier. Even after nearly a month of fighting, not a single enemy army was able to set foot in Milan, let alone endanger the city's safety.

“Another beautiful day.” Benedek pushed open the glass window behind him, casting his gaze upon the bustling commercial district in the heart of Milan. Many Milan residents, knowing of the war in the Empire, had spontaneously fled to the countryside with their families to escape the conflict. However, because the enemy army had not attacked Milan for an extended period, those with a bit more courage gradually returned to the city. This led to the commercial district in Milan regaining its pre-war prosperity.

“I don’t have the talent of a teacher, so His Majesty’s decision to station me in Milan is perhaps the right one.” Benedek took out a cigarette from his pocket, then opened the drawer next to him, took out a gold lighter, and slowly lit the cigarette.

In the blink of an eye, twelve years had passed since the death of her mentor, Marshal Radetzky. Her teacher had fought across Europe, from the Netherlands to Belgium, from Germany to Italy. She had fought against Empress Napoleon in Leipzig, attended the Congress of Vienna with Metternich, and single-handedly defeated the first Italian War of Independence launched by the Kingdom of Sardinia. Archduke Charles was her comrade-in-arms, and Emperor Joseph was her loyal admirer.

Beautiful and powerful, intelligent and wise, she was as important to the empire in the first half of the 19th century as Prince Eugen had been.

"Keep your head up and look ahead, remain calm and vigilant. Benedek, your talent may not be the best, but you are braver and more fearless than others. Your belief in victory is your greatest asset." This is what his mentor told him before he passed away.

The world is full of unexpected events, always catching us off guard, with unpredictable outcomes that somehow feel inevitable. The emperor has handed over his teacher's former position and military rank to him, and he himself is now in Milan. He wonders if he can achieve the same level of success as he did during the war twenty years ago.

At this moment, the sturdy wooden door emitted a rhythmic knocking sound, clearly indicating that someone outside was requesting an audience.

"Please come in." Benedek tossed his half-smoked cigarette butt into the ashtray, straightened his collar and uniform, and said.

"Yes, sir." A woman gently pushed open the door and entered the room, and we could easily identify her by her clothing. She was a beautiful commander from the Magic Energy Squadron to which Benedek belonged.

"My lord, you have a letter from Magenta and a letter from Vienna." Miss Magician opened her backpack and took out two letters with very similar packaging.

"Messiah, why are you the messenger today? Where's Peter?" Peter was the adjutant who delivered military intelligence and documents to the marshal.

"Sir, Major Peter drank with his staff last night and got drunk. He's still in bed!" Messiah told the middle-aged man with a hint of helplessness in his voice.

PS1:ra!

Chapter 265 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 126 The Choice Between Two Letters (Seeking Votes)

"Damn brat! It's wartime! How dare he drink so much? If it weren't for the fact that his father is an attendant to His Majesty the Emperor, I'd really like to dismiss him and send him to the Balkans. You know Messiah, the Italians are much more 'amiable' than those crazy Turks and Slavs!" The marshal complained somewhat discontentedly, then sighed and fixed his gaze on the two letters on the table.

“Messiah, guess who wrote these two letters?” Benedek looked at the woman with a smile, his eyes full of tenderness.

"My lord, I believe it is not His Majesty."

"Of course." The embossed seal on Emperor Joseph's letters was a unique mark, so it was clear that the two similar letters were not from Emperor Joseph's hand. Therefore, it could be determined that they were at least not imperial edicts.

"I'm certain the letter from Vienna came from that person. After all, she still cares about Italy, and of course, she cares about more than just Italy; she cares about the future of the Empire as well." Messiah wasn't afraid to tell the marshal these somewhat presumptuous and dangerous words, since their relationship was more than just a simple superior-subordinate one.

“My clever girl, you and I are thinking about the same thing. It’s true.” Benedek sat back down, propped his head up with his right elbow, and placed the two letters in front of him.

The woman named Messiah gently closed the door, then slowly walked towards the middle-aged man and knelt down beside his chair.

"You're wearing black today?" Benedek raised an eyebrow, asking the blonde beauty in front of him with a teasing tone.

“Hehe! That’s right, my lord, I wore this especially for you.” Messiah let out a gentle and charming laugh, then moved closer to the middle-aged man.

“Really? That’s very thoughtful.” Benedek first extended his right hand, picked up the letter from Magenta, and then skillfully opened it to read its contents.

“Messiah, I’m a little surprised. The letter from Magenta is not signed by our beloved Queen.”

"Um, uh, um..." Messiah's speech was somewhat unclear because something was wrapped around her mouth. However, Marshal Benedek was well aware of what she was trying to say.

"The letter writer is our little hero, that lovely princess." The middle-aged man felt the comfort coming from between his legs while gently stroking the golden hair on the lady's forehead with his free left hand.

"Her Highness instructed me to focus on strengthening Milan's defenses. She believes that even if the main force of one French army unit breaks through the Austrian blockade surrounding Magnetta after its defeat at Magnetta, it will not dare to advance rashly towards Magnetta. This is because they cannot recklessly launch a full-scale attack on Milan, exposing the entire army's rear to the Austrian forces located at Magnetta. However, they might send a surprise attack force to try their luck, and this is something I need to be wary of."

Others may not know this, but Gisela's deduction actually incorporates the fact that Napoleon III, during the Franco-Prussian War, was a moderate and conservative commander who wouldn't dare use desperate tactics. After all, he was ultimately different from his aunt; despite lacking military talent, he particularly liked to personally lead troops into battle. Historically, without McMahon's excellent command at the Battle of Magenta, the French army would have been in dire straits as well.

"Of course, our princess has already led reinforcements here just in case. However, in my opinion, this is somewhat unnecessary." After all, after weeks of construction and troop deployment, Milan's defenses are impregnable, and he doesn't believe that the French army can threaten the city's safety without launching a full-scale attack.

This concerns his and his family's honor, as well as the trust His Majesty and his teacher have in him.

"Sir, it's better to be careful." The woman swallowed something and then wiped her pink lips with a handkerchief.

"Let me finish reading this letter before we begin. After all, I'm getting old and my stamina isn't what it used to be." The middle-aged man tore open another document and continued reading attentively.

A moment later ————

"That lady should indeed be concerned about this issue. Compared to her grandson, her granddaughter is clearly more gifted. Not only is she a powerful demon wielder, but she is also much more intelligent." This can be seen from the letter just now. After all, who could imagine that this letter came from a little princess who is only fourteen years old?

Looking back on what he was doing at the age of fourteen, he was indulging in a life of pleasure and debauchery, just like most noble children. However, he had an early awakening, so he joined the army and eventually rose to this position.

"You want me to complete an impossible task for that prince, and then find a reason to transfer her away from Italy?" With the war situation tense right now, what a ridiculous scheme that woman came up with.

"Sir, shall you obey that lord's orders?"

"Hmph! What do you think?" Benedek asked Messiah with a hint of self-deprecation.

"My lord, I believe that my silence in this matter is the best way to obey and respect you." The woman's voice was gentle, and her eyes conveyed a myriad of emotions without being spoken.

"I'm growing to like you more and more." With that, the middle-aged man hugged the woman, and she skillfully responded to his actions.

“Actually, I think it would be quite good for our Austrian Empire to have another empress than that brat chosen by that old woman. In fact, I’d like to see how far this princess can lead this country.” One side’s strengths gave this marshal a strange confidence. He had clearly mistaken Gisela for someone as ambitious as Empress Catherine, but also someone who could play politics in bed.

"My lord, I'll get jealous if you do that." The woman swayed her hips, her words carrying a hint of annoyance and coquettishness.

"Just kidding, dear Messiah. Let's put aside those trivial matters and enjoy this rare and pleasant time together. Then we should prepare our defenses carefully, and our loyalty will be the best gift we can give to the future queen." The marshal raised his head and looked at the clock on the wall.

Teacher, it's a pity I couldn't make you like me back then.

While magic can prevent physical aging, death is inevitable.

PS1: The pacing of the old book was indeed a bit problematic. I mainly changed some settings. The previous version had a lot of flaws!

Chapter 266 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter127 Let the Day Be Easy: 1 Other Qi, Siqi Temple. Wu Liuna and the Marshal (Seeking votes)

On September 25, 1870, Jeanne de Darc gave the Austrians little time to prepare before leading a French army of 9 men to the outskirts of Milan and launching an attack on the outer defenses controlled by the Imperial forces outside the city at noon that day.

This time, Jeanne's French army abandoned its usual conservative fighting style, directly deploying magical armor and cavalry into the battle, launching an attack regardless of the cost. Faced with such a frenzied advance that surpassed previous battles, the Imperial army's defensive lines and fortifications were quickly breached, and by dusk that day, they were forced to abandon their positions, leaving behind a rearguard to allow the garrison outside the city to gradually retreat into the city.

That very night, the French army set up cannons on the hills outside the city, ready to bombard the enemy forces inside.

After confirming the deployment of her artillery one last time from her vantage point, Jeanne finally breathed a sigh of relief. She stretched her ankles, which ached from standing for so long, gently placed her family's heirloom flagpole on the ground, and then gazed at the city of Milan in the distance through the torchlight beside her.

Flames were the thing she hated most. Despite inheriting the name of her ancestor, the Crimson Lotus Saintess, she loathed the so-called glory and mission even more than her ancestor. Because such ridiculous things brought her no meaning; instead, they were a kind of constraint, just like that guy, Shirley…

This rebellion against old responsibilities is precisely what makes Jeanne different from her ancestors, and it is also a manifestation of her spirit of resisting fate.

It is worth mentioning that Joan of Arc in this world history did not die by burning at the stake in England. Instead, she ignited the magical energy within her body in a near-suicidal manner beneath the walls of Orléans, fighting against multiple English magic users single-handedly. She eventually died from exhaustion, but her sacrifice brought victory to France. From then on, the name "Saint of Orléans" was remembered by the French people, and the descendants of the Dalque family became the hereditary Dukes of Orléans. Even after the impact of the French Revolution, this family remained standing and continued to exist as a symbol of France.

Dying on the battlefield might have been her good fortune, but it was also a misfortune, because from then on, her descendants were destined to live in a vicious cycle of sacrificing themselves for others, always accompanied by Honglian.

"Boring." Jeanne let down her long, silver hair that she had previously tied up, and then collapsed onto the grass, which smelled of earth. She looked up at the starry sky with her golden eyes, and just then the moonlight shone on her, which gilded her already pale, almost sickly skin with a layer of snow-white gauze. At this moment, she looked like a holy goddess.

“Charlie…” Jeanne bit her lip, softly uttering the name she both loved and hated with a hint of resentment. The Dalque family would inevitably be plagued by misfortune, but her descendants would forever enjoy the love of the French people, until the day the country disappeared.

She gently picked up a slightly withered violet from her black armor, carefully examining its petals and stamens, before gripping it tightly in her hand.

"Your scent is as lingering and fragrant as a violet, but I know you are far stronger than such a delicate flower." Jeanne's brows relaxed. Since there was no one else around, she no longer needed to wear a poker face or pretend to be stern and indifferent.

However, the noise from the woods soon broke Jeanne's leisurely and pleasant time.

"Who is it!" Jeanne suddenly stood up, raised the weapon beside her, and pointed its sharp spearhead at the rustling bushes.

"Holy Maiden, it is I." A black-haired man with a serious expression and a pale face slowly emerged from the bushes, accompanied by a man in a white military uniform who looked somewhat tired.

“Gilth, what are you doing here? Didn’t I put you in charge of the army’s patrols and sentries tonight? And don’t call me Saintess, I hate that title.” Jeanne frowned slightly, her golden eyes filled with displeasure as she looked at the somewhat wooden man in front of her. Of course, she didn’t forget to keep her gaze fixed on the person in the white military uniform behind him.

The man before me, Gilles, is a descendant of Gilles de Rais, the French Marshal during the Hundred Years' War. The Marshal was an admirer of Joan of Arc and a close comrade-in-arms.

In the original history, he was a typical two-faced figure. In his early years, he fought for his country with courage, loyalty, and responsibility. However, after Joan of Arc's death, he gradually became depressed and later became obsessed with black magic. After that, he was burned at the stake by the church for harming hundreds of innocent children, which, in a sense, was the same fate as the saint he loved most.

However, the difference between the two is so ironic. One died in the light and became a national hero, while the other fled into darkness and became an evil butcher and executioner in fairy tales, despised by the people.

Of course, this time the marshal did not become depressed or despondent because of Joan of Arc's death. After all, as mentioned earlier, Joan of Arc died in battle, and the marshal later inherited Joan of Arc's will and fought for France, fighting until the last moment of his life.

From then on, the Rice family served as allies of the Darc family, and the two families remained close allies, jointly defending France. Interestingly, almost every generation of the Rice family admired the Darc family's saintess, but none of them managed to win her heart.

As time passed, when the name of his ancestor Giles appeared before this young man once again, would he be able to do what his ancestor had not been able to do?

"An Austrian?" Jeanne observed for a moment, and before Giles could explain, she revealed the identity of the man in white military uniform in front of her.

“No! My lord, I am Hungarian.” The man denied Jeanne’s statement, clearly wanting to distance himself from the Empire.

"Whatever happens, you should have heard how I usually deal with deserters." For Jeanne, deserters are all the same, whether they are enemies or allies. And for these people who have no sense of honor, there is usually only one fate: to be impaled and then burned alive.

"No! Sir, you wouldn't." The Hungarian in front of him held his head high, his eyes filled with a blind confidence that showed no fear.

PS1: I've been so busy lately QAQ

Chapter 267 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 128 The Austrian Army's Night Raid (ra!)

“Oh, really?” Jeanne raised her hand, and Gilles skillfully kicked the Hungarian to the ground, drawing his sword from his waist. He would gladly cut off this man’s head for her if his saint gave the order.

"Tonight, we will launch a surprise attack on your artillery positions," the Hungarian roared at Jeanne.

"Thank you so much, but your information is unnecessary. We could have repelled your ambush even without your warning." As Jeanne spoke, Gilles skillfully swung his raised knife, aiming for the man's delicate neck.

Just as the blade was about to touch the Hungarian, it paused. By then, the Hungarian soldier had already lost control of his bladder in fear, and the stench of urine filled the air. He then collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.