The new decree was quickly dispatched by the Emperor's messengers to every county in the Kingdom of Hungary.
This decree did not cover governorates such as Croatia and Transylvania.
Emperor Laszlo intentionally planned to incorporate other regions of Hungary directly under the Crown, rather than have them as subordinate governments of the Kingdom of Hungary under the unified administration of the Regency Cabinet.
Issuing the decree only within the Kingdom itself greatly accelerated its dissemination.
In Pilis County and Pest County, near the capital, the circuit judges dispatched by Emperor Laszlo acted swiftly.
They carried copies of the decree, sealed with the vibrant red royal seal, raising clouds of dust along the Kingdom's post roads.
Behind the judges often followed a troop of elite cavalry from the Border Guard, all temporarily appointed law enforcement officers selected from the Budapest Legion.
They were tasked with protecting the judges and enforcing the decree.
In the core territories of Hungary, almost no nobles could resist these elite standing armies, seasoned by years of campaigning.
These judges and warriors, departing from Budapest, carried Emperor Laszlo's will, penetrating with unprecedented force into the villages and manors that had been overshadowed by noble castles for centuries.
More than two-thirds of Pilis County, where the capital Budapest is located, belonged to Emperor Laszlo, with the remainder belonging to the Church, specifically the direct feudal territories of Archbishop Veszter, the Regent of the Kingdom.
Because this land was directly under royal supervision, various taxes and labor services were more standardized. Coupled with Emperor Laszlo's policies favoring peasants on royal lands, the peasants living here generally enjoyed the easiest lives in the entire Kingdom.
Of course, peasants living on Church lands were a different story, as those priests, full of mercy, often did not treat peasants as human beings, and even Archbishop Veszter was no exception.
However, the situation in Pest County, across the Danube River from Pilis County, was much worse.
The Crown, lesser nobles, great nobles, and the Church each occupied a portion of the land, and the burdens borne by the populace living in different territories varied greatly.
Dozens of miles east of Pest, Csóka Castle loomed like a giant beast atop a hill, the residence of Count Seci of Vas, a great noble of the Kingdom.
Candlelight illuminated the hall on the top floor of the castle, casting shadows on the old Count's face, contorted with rage.
The wrinkles on his face rippled slightly, and his withered fingers almost crushed the parchment copy of the decree he held.
"Free migration? And limiting labor and rent?" His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing, "That Austrian, it wasn't enough for him to abolish the golden bull, now he wants to shake our foundations."
Standing beside him was his second son, the young Seci András, with a ruthless expression identical to his father's.
"Father, can we continue to endure? No matter how strong his army is, can it simultaneously extinguish the beacon fires ignited throughout the entire Kingdom?
As long as you write a secret letter to my elder brother, telling him to raise an army in Vas, those families who share our aspirations will surely rise in response."
The old Count's eldest son, Miklós, currently served as the governor of Vas County, managing Vas County, a Hungarian border region near Austria.
Thinking of his pampered and timid eldest son, a hint of hesitation flickered in the old Count's cloudy eyes.
Even if they complied with the Emperor's new decree, their family could still enjoy wealth and honor by virtue of the county they controlled, though life would certainly become more difficult and strained than before.
But once they rebelled, there were only two outcomes: either the family would be destroyed, or they would overthrow the Emperor and reclaim their privileges.
Comparing the probabilities of these two outcomes, the old Count's reason and fear once again triumphed over his anger.
"No, we are too close to Austria; the Emperor's army can easily destroy us, so we cannot be the first to stick our necks out."
He shook his head, rejecting his son's suggestion, certain that someone would be unable to tolerate it, and then it would not be too late for them to suddenly make their move.
"But Father, if we allow this decree to be implemented in our territory, those peasants will surely try every means to flee to the royal lands.
Previously, we tried every means and still couldn't completely stop them from escaping; now it will be even more difficult, won't it?"
András was unwilling; if the migration restrictions were truly lifted, what would become of them?
Except for the slaves they considered their private property, those peasants who tilled the land could migrate according to their own will. How many would still be willing to stay here and work for them?
The old Count pondered for a moment, then offered a countermeasure: "Tell the farm managers to inform those peasants that I will lighten their burdens from now on, but if anyone dares to even think about leaving, they shouldn't blame me for being impolite.
Have your men disguise themselves as bandits and guard the roads leading to the royal lands. If you see anyone trying to sneak away, kill them directly, and hang their bodies by the roadside to show them whether a few papers with seals are tougher or our swords are tougher."
András grinned with a bloodthirsty smile upon hearing this, agreeing wholeheartedly.
In Szinkota Village, on the edge of Count Seci's territory, the villagers gathered at the entrance of the small church, eagerly looking at the village priest.
The priest held a decree and slowly read it to the villagers: "The Emperor announces that all peasants, except slaves, have the right to free migration.
Lords shall not levy additional taxes exceeding one-tenth of the land's income, and weekly labor service shall not exceed three days.
Any violator of the decree, once discovered, will be tried by the Royal Court.
As His Imperial Majesty personally stated, peasants should be treated kindly, and this decree is His Majesty's grace bestowed upon you."
These words were like stones thrown into a stagnant pool, immediately stirring up intense discussion among the crowd.
Some praised the Emperor's enlightenment and compassion, but others expressed doubt about whether the decree would be effective.
However, in any case, Emperor Laszlo's previous bad reputation in this small village had now vanished without a trace.
Villagers used to complain about him constantly waging wars and imposing heavy taxes on them, but now these people began to sing his praises—and this was just a microcosm of thousands of villages and manors in Hungary.
Some people even began to call Emperor Laszlo 'The Just,' a nickname that later became widely circulated among the Hungarian populace.
However, for the villagers currently in Count Seci's territory, their joy did not last long.
No sooner had the bailiff delivering the decree left than the overseer sent by the Count arrived in the village.
He brought the old Count's words, stating that he would reduce the villagers' labor and taxes, but remained silent about allowing free migration.
It was only after some time, when two families attempting to move to the neighboring free village of Keresztúr were found dead on the road, their bodies hung from trees by the roadside and their belongings plundered, that people realized how cruel the lord's new methods were.
The serfs, who had been restless due to the promulgation of the new decree, now had no choice but to dutifully remain in the village and work for the lord.
However, although the term of labor service was shortened, they worked harder than usual.
The new overseer sent by the Count was much more vicious than the previous farm managers, constantly patrolling the lord's fields with a whip in hand.
If anyone's movements were even slightly slow, the whip would fall mercilessly upon them.
Any serf who showed a yearning for freedom would be severely beaten and publicly humiliated by the overseer.
Fear spread like a plague through the villages, stifling the faint glimmer of hope that the decree had just brought.
István was a young and shrewd peasant living in this village.
He was hunched over, vigorously swinging a rusty sickle in the lord's oat field.
The chill of late autumn intensified daily, yet sweat had already soaked through his rough linen shirt, clinging to his back.
Thinking of his wife, who had been severely beaten by the overseer a few days ago for taking a brief rest while working and was still unable to get out of bed, and his son, who was driven to the lord's sheepfold to clean manure before dawn, István's heart was filled with worry.
"Have you heard, István?" In the neighboring furrow, the equally exhausted old Janus saw the overseer move slightly away and immediately lowered his voice to speak to István, "In the next village, the one near Pest, Harom Village... the Emperor's judge really went there.
Ferenc, old Lajos's son, the one who fought for the lord and lost his leg, he sued the lord for violating the decree by excessively taxing and conscripting labor, and the judge ruled in his favor. The lord was fined a large sum of money for the Emperor.
Ferenc's family took the oxcart arranged by the royal judge and went to the royal manor. People say that there, they only have to perform less than fifty days of labor service a year, and the rent is much less than here! And... and the Emperor will allocate land to those who move to his territory,
reduce taxes, and ensure that peasants can live stably there."
István's sickle paused, and a look of longing appeared on his face, but it was quickly replaced by despair.
One of the two villagers who had left with their families was his childhood friend; a few days ago, his body had been brought back and hastily buried, and his tragic death shattered István's illusions of a better life.
He cautiously looked around, confirming that the overseer's fat figure was still lingering in the distant field, before trembling, he reached his dirt-stained hand into the innermost seam of his worn leather jacket.
His fingertips touched several hard, cold small objects, and his heart pounded violently.
Hidden in that seam were a total of five somewhat shiny, worn Austrian silver groschen coins, his biggest secret.
These large silver coins with the double-headed eagle emblem had been acquired at great risk to his life over the past few years.
Their village was located near a small tributary of the Danube River.
Every autumn, when herds of gray cattle were driven down from the highlands of Transylvania, preparing to cross the Danube River for transport to Vienna, Nuremberg, or even further afield, a portion of the herd would temporarily rest in the riverside meadows.
Some shrewd Austrian cattle dealers would secretly use silver coins to buy extra hay, grain, or even the right to use small, excellent pastures unknown to the lord, from peasants along the way, to help the long-traveled cattle recover their strength.
István seized such an opportunity, like a ghost, he used the cover of night to cut the rich pasture grass in the river bend, dried it, and hid it.
Whenever the cattle herds passed by and the shadowy figures of the cattle dealers appeared at the agreed location, he would emerge with heavy bundles of hay, earning some extra money from these foreign merchants.
Sometimes he could even exchange the finer, more even thread secretly spun by his wife, which was better than the coarse wool yarn collected by the lord, for a little extra salt produced in Transylvania.
These precious silver coins were the only guarantee that his family could barely breathe under the lord's cruel exploitation, and even more, they were an unspoken dream in his heart—that one day, he and his family might be able to escape from here with this money and pursue a better life.
"Are you two slacking off again?"
The overseer's terrifying roar interrupted István's imagination, and the whip mercilessly struck his back.
István grunted and quickly continued to swing his sickle, while Janus beside him also resumed his work.
The little light that had just shone into their desperate lives now vanished without a trace.
In the evening, István and Janus, exhausted from a day's labor, returned to the village together, their bodies aching as if they had worked for four or five days straight.
Passing by the church, they suddenly noticed that the villagers had gathered again. Curiosity drove them to push through the crowd, and they were immediately stunned by the scene before them.
Several fully armed soldiers were escorting three men dressed as bandits, who were undergoing a brief public trial in front of the church.
The one conducting the trial was a royal official in a long robe, who looked like a legendary circuit judge.
Standing beside the judge was the red-faced overseer, who deeply disliked these uninvited outsiders but was helpless.
Just then, the judge-like figure spoke.
"According to the intelligence we received earlier, someone dared to openly rob and murder migrating peasants near Pest; the two families who left from here are the victims.
However, you no longer need to worry about encountering danger during migration, because the criminals who blocked the road and robbed have been captured by the warriors sent by His Imperial Majesty, and these are the three men here."
Upon hearing this, the villagers were incensed. Someone shouted, "Blood for blood!" and people clamored for the murderers to pay with their lives.
"I know him; that fellow is the Count's son's henchman, a complete scoundrel."
Old Janus leaned close to István and whispered.
Although he had expected this, István's heart still sank halfway.
If the lord didn't want them to leave, there were many ways, and these weak peasants were powerless to resist.
"Sir, I... robbing them was not our intention; all of this was instigated by Lord Count.
He said that as long as we could scare those villagers into not daring to step out of the village, he would reward us."
"Bastard, what are you saying?"
The overseer never expected these fellows to be so useless, directly implicating the Count.
He raised his whip, intending to shut the loose-tongued bandit leader up, but the judge, quick as a flash, stopped him.
The judge was at this moment trying his best to suppress the joy in his heart. He had initially thought he had only caught a small fish, but unexpectedly, he had caught a count's handle.
Thinking of his bright future, the judge put on a serious face and pronounced his verdict.
"These three men have committed the grave crimes of robbery and murder, and should have been directly sentenced to death, but considering that they are involved in issues related to the new decree, I will take them back to Budapest for trial.
Regarding the issue of free migration, the criminals who obstructed migration have been apprehended. If similar incidents occur in the future, His Imperial Majesty's army will also come to deal with them.
His Majesty intends to establish more free villages like Keresztúr on royal lands, to allocate land to immigrants, reduce taxes and labor, and encourage all hardworking and willing peasants to migrate."
"Sir, this isn't right, is it?"
The overseer, his face pale, whispered to the judge.
The latter merely gave him a cool glance, without replying, and instead directly led the accompanying soldiers and the bandits out of the village, heading towards Budapest.
Inside the Royal Palace in Budapest, Laszlo, High Justice Rozgonyi, and a group of ministers had already received the news and were discussing the vicious incident that occurred near Pest.
"Hmph, Count Veszter of the Széchy family?" Laszlo slammed the circuit judge's report onto the table. "How long has the new decree been out, and he dares to do such a thing right under my nose? It seems that in the years I've been away from Hungary, these old noble families who think they control power have forgotten who is the King of Hungary!"
"Emperor, we must deal with this matter seriously."
Although Rozgonyi also felt a headache due to the new decree, compared to what he had gained from serving the Emperor over the years, he quickly understood his position and firmly stood on the side supporting the Emperor.
"Hmm, go investigate for me, specifically his hometown, Veszter County. I remember his son seems to be the county governor there, right?
Go find out if there are any illegal activities, and report them immediately if found!"
"Yes, Emperor."
Laszlo had some impression of Veszter County. It was located on the Austria-Hungary border, the closest county in the Kingdom of Hungary to Graz, the capital of Styria.
The Széchy family controlled half of the land in that county. Laszlo had no particular thoughts about them before, but he didn't expect them to be so foolish as to walk into a trap this time.
Just under his nose, they dared to use such cruel methods; Laszlo couldn't even imagine what would happen in more remote areas.
Fortunately, he had anticipated such a situation and had already disbanded the Budapest Legion, scattering them in companies into several core cities in central Hungary.
These regular army soldiers were divided into many small teams, performing patrol, bandit suppression, and public order maintenance tasks centered around their garrisoned cities.
Now it seemed his arrangements were indeed sound.
As time passed, the decree became known to more and more people. According to received reports, many displaced farmers were absorbed into royal estates everywhere.
Because Laszlo directly provided them with land to cultivate, and there were tax reductions in the initial years, with subsequent land rent and corvée also lower than in noble territories, many people were willing to pay 'redemption money' to break free from their lords' control and come to royal estates to become tenant farmers.
Some called such farmers 'serfs of the state'; they no longer had to endure exploitation from both their lords and the Kingdom, only needing to serve the Emperor.
The nobles, of course, would not idly stand by and watch such a situation unfold.
As expected, various cases of bandits plundering migrating farmers suddenly emerged endlessly, but under the diligent investigation and suppression by the Kingdom's army, bandits in the central region of the Kingdom quickly disappeared.
As for more remote areas, Laszlo dispatched the Austrian army stationed in Slovakia and the Timisoara Legion stationed on the southeastern border to assist in implementing the decree.
During this time, more and more noble petitions and even protests were sent to Laszlo's desk.
Some hoped he would reconsider whether the new decree was suitable for Hungary, while others accused him of infringing upon their rights by bypassing the Hungarian Parliament and directly implementing the decree.
Laszlo's response to this was also very direct and decisive.
He directly laid out the evidence he possessed and specifically summoned several great nobles to Budapest for trial.
Most of these individuals were powerful figures in the Kingdom who owned property near the capital. In the early stages of the decree's implementation, they defied him, insisting on opposing him.
As a result, the circuit judges sent out by Laszlo quickly found evidence against them.
The Royal Court of Budapest heard five cases involving great nobles violating the new decree within a month, and the case of Count Veszter Széchy was one of them.
Without exception, Laszlo fined them all a hefty sum of several thousand florins and ordered them not to re-offend. If found violating the decree again, they would face even more severe penalties.
After dutifully paying the fines, old Count Széchy and his son András left Budapest with their retinue.
They did not cross the Danube River to return to their family's Csaba Castle near the capital, but instead headed directly towards the western border of the Kingdom, to Veszter, their family's stronghold.
"Father, why have you suddenly changed your mind?"
András looked at his gloomy old father with some surprise, not quite understanding why his usually cautious, even cowardly, father had suddenly become so resolute.
"I received news that that damned Austrian is sending people to investigate your elder brother. We have retreated too many times; this time, no matter what, we cannot let him succeed."
The old count gnashed his teeth, his face twisted in a grimace. He had served Emperors Sigismund and Albrecht II, which had doubled the Széchy family's territory and earned him the title of Count Veszter, steadily increasing his power within the Kingdom.
But now, Emperor Laszlo, after using the power of them, the great nobles, to defeat his enemies, had turned his butcher's knife on them, the pillars that supported the Kingdom.
Moreover, even though they repeatedly retreated, the Emperor remained relentless. Since that was the case, the old count was no longer willing to endure.
And András, beside him, let out a gasp: "My elder brother levied taxes so many times in recent years under various pretexts, probably collecting taxes for ten years in advance. If that's found out..."
He didn't continue. Now he understood the reason for his father's urgency.
"Hmph, the time has come. Count Chak sent me a letter; he will raise the banner of rebellion in Pécs early next month. At that time, those who are dissatisfied with the Austrians will surely rise up in response.
Since he wants to push us to a dead end, we will fight him to the death!"
The old count squeezed these words through gritted teeth, with a determination to burn his bridges.
"You must immediately ride back to Veszter at full speed, go tell Miklós to gather men, reinforce the castle, and fill the granaries!"
"I understand, Father."
András didn't delay either. He left the group with a few attendants and galloped west.
What this father and son didn't know was that the Independent Army, which had recently returned from Landshut, had already departed from Graz and was advancing towards the Hungarian border;
The Split Legion stationed in Croatia was also waiting in the Varaždin Royal Castle in northern Croatia, which was adjacent to southwestern Hungary;
The Timisoara Legion, guarding the southeastern defense line, had also long been prepared for war:
The Saxon Army's Second Legion, stationed in Kremnica, the center of Slovakia, was watching over the northern border of the Kingdom:
The Emperor himself, with the Guards and the Saxon Army's First Legion, was holding court in Budapest, patiently awaiting the unexpected.
The situation in the Kingdom of Hungary grew increasingly tense. At this critical juncture, Laszlo sent out decrees to all parts of the country, summoning representatives from the nobility, clergy, and other social strata to Budapest for a new session of the Hungarian Parliament.
No one knew what the Emperor was planning, but most of the Kingdom's nobles decided to travel to Budapest to attend the Hungarian Parliament.
Although they generally felt dissatisfied with the implementation of the new decree, they were still willing to discuss and negotiate with the Emperor in the Hungarian Parliament.
Compared to their restraint or perhaps timidity, those great nobles who planned to lead their armies to Budapest were now preoccupied with other matters.
In early December 1465, more than a dozen nobles in the southwestern and southeastern regions of Hungary raised the banner of rebellion in their territories, launching attacks on neighboring royal estates, destroying and plundering the Emperor's lands and property.
The leader of these rebels was Count Chak, who had always been at odds with Laszlo. He instigated the rebellion in Pécs, and his co-conspirators responded one after another.
Besides these individuals, some local nobles incited by Count Chak also joined the rebellion.
Count Veszter also announced his joining the rebels shortly thereafter.
Because the Emperor led his large army and held court in Budapest, no one in central Hungary and the northern Slovakian region dared to openly defy the Emperor.
A significant reason for this was also that the royal estates were primarily concentrated in the central and northwestern regions of the Kingdom. Additionally, a large portion of the territories in the Carpathian Mountains and Transylvania were directly under royal control.
Only in the southern fringes of Hungary were the territories of the great nobles and the Church concentrated, with a low proportion of directly controlled royal lands.
A few years prior, there were almost no directly controlled royal estates in southern Hungary, but after the death of his maternal cousin Ulrich, the territories of the three counties he controlled in Hungary, along with Serbia and Cilli, were inherited by Laszlo.
And these territories were the main targets of the rebellious nobles. For them to march towards Budapest with their military strength to fight the Emperor to the death would be suicidal. It was better to plunder the royal lands in the border regions and engage in skirmishes with the royal army sent to suppress them.
Old Count Veszter thought exactly this. He rushed back to Veszter County from Budapest overnight and assembled an army of over a thousand men at his ancestral castle of Oszkó, preparing to invade the neighboring Zala County and Vas County.
Most of the territories in these two counties were inherited by Laszlo from his maternal cousin, so he directly appointed Austrian officials to govern them.
The day of the uprising quickly arrived. The massive oak gates of Oszkó Castle slowly opened with a grating creak.
The old count, clad in the magnificent armor he wore during the Hussite Crusade, rode a tall warhorse. Illuminated by torchlight, he looked like a stone statue.
At his command, dozens of knights, over a hundred mercenaries, and nearly a thousand serf soldiers, forced or tricked into service, surged out of the castle in a chaotic throng.
They marched south, intending to cross the Mur River and invade the royal territory today to burn, kill, and plunder.
However, as they approached the ferry crossing near the Mur River, a fully armed army blocked their path.
The Hussite War Wagons, familiar to the old count, were arrayed in a line before them, while the iron-clad infantry formed ranks in front of the Wagenburg. Their long spears and armor reflected a cold glint in the sunlight.
"Double-headed eagle banner! It's the Emperor's army!"
A shrill, distorted shout reached his ears, drawing the old count's attention back to the battlefield. Only one thought filled his mind: everything was over.
The Mur River was not only the boundary between Veszter County and Zala County, but its upper reaches also passed through an Austrian city called Graz.
He was aware that another of the Emperor's armies was stationed there, but a flicker of hope in his heart led him to take the risk.
Before the rebels could even form their ranks, a roar of artillery sounded. The immense noise, accompanied by gunpowder smoke, enveloped the entire battlefield.
Although the cannonballs caused no casualties among the rebels, the serfs, who were already unwilling to fight, immediately fell into disarray.
The Imperial Army had not even approached, yet this hastily assembled army was already on the verge of collapse.
The battle lasted less than half an hour. Gunter led the Independent Army to rout the rebels before them and quickly occupied the Széchy family's territory.
The old count and his two sons would be sent to Budapest to face Laszlo's public trial.
The armies dispatched from Varaždin and Timisoara also quickly received orders to rise and suppress the rebellion.
The rebel forces in the southeastern region were not strong and were quickly swept away by the Timisoara Legion led by Paul. Even Count Chak's ancestral home, Chak Castle in Tames County, was captured and subsequently incorporated into the border defense system by Paul.
The southwestern region was the hardest hit by the rebellion, specifically the area near Croatia, where almost half of the land was controlled by great nobles.
Considering that the strength of one legion might be insufficient to quell the enemy in this direction, Laszlo decided to personally lead a large army from Budapest,
And head directly to the rebels' stronghold, Pécs.
Before that, he first sent people to confiscate the lands of the rebellious nobles in other parts of the Kingdom.
In Sinkota Village, István, who was still agonizing over whether or not to move to the royal estate, woke up early to find royal officials who had come to arrest the overseer.
The overseer, who had always oppressed them, was captured with almost no resistance by several strong soldiers.
The new official announced to the gathered villagers that, due to Count Veszter's rebellion, this place would henceforth belong to the royal family.
He reiterated the various laws regarding farmers within the royal estates, which caused a great cheer among the villagers.
When István heard one of the laws, "By paying 5 florins as redemption money, one can shed the serf status, be exempt from corvée and land rent, and gain permanent usage rights to a plot of land," his mind froze for a moment, and his hand instinctively reached into the seam of his clothes.
Five florins, which was equivalent to five golden groschen, exactly five!
Exemption from corvée, obtaining a plot of land—these two phrases echoed repeatedly in his mind.
Immediately, István's heart was filled with wild joy, and his originally dull eyes suddenly became bright and piercing.
Many other farmers, like him, also saw hope. Perhaps they hadn't saved enough money yet, but a piece of land belonging to them was undoubtedly alluring, giving them the motivation to work diligently.
For the nobles, this sudden rebellion was undoubtedly a signal, another armed confrontation between the nobility and the Emperor after Hunyadi.
However, these shrewd Hungarian nobles did not choose to act rashly but opted to observe first.
Upon hearing that Count Veszter was easily defeated and that the Emperor personally led an army from Budapest to suppress the rebellion, many of the petty tricks that some lords had privately devised to exploit loopholes—such as making serfs work late into the night during the three-day corvée period, or imposing additional taxes under various pretexts—significantly decreased.
In truth, they all understood a fact: the sword in the Emperor's hand was far more dangerous than any decree. Yet, some still held onto a glimmer of hope,
Believing they could represent the interests of the majority.
Fear was gradually replacing anger, and most nobles also began to face reality: in the coming decades, they might have to tighten their belts and collectively support a strong and stable Kingdom of Hungary.