From Normandy to the Loire River valley, and from the Rhône Valley to Aquitaine, the flames of war had ignited across more than half of France.
Laszlo and Charles were besieging Paris, the Duke of Berry was laying siege to Orléans, the Pope's army was approaching Avignon, and the Duke of Armagnac was leading his forces to besiege Toulouse.
At this critical juncture, King Juan II of Aragon finally could not resist making a move.
After years of major warfare, although the rebellion of the Catalonians had not been completely suppressed, it had basically lost its threat.
Thus, Juan II was able to assemble an army to invade southeastern France, reclaiming two provinces he had previously ceded to France, and even quietly taking a bit more.
Although he had previously used declaring war on France as a bargaining chip, hoping Rome would recognize the legitimacy of his son's marriage, the Pope preferred to lead an army on a campaign himself rather than issue a dispensation.
This led to a very awkward situation for his son Ferdinand. Ferdinand and the Castilian Princess Isabella already had children, but because they had entered into a consanguineous marriage without a Holy See dispensation, not only was the marriage illegal, but the children born were also considered illegitimate.
Juan II was both angry and anxious about this, yet helpless against the Holy See.
Some advised him to seek a dispensation from the antipope in Avignon, and even his son entertained the idea, but Juan II immediately vetoed these suggestions.
He did not believe the French King and the French Pope could withstand the fierce attacks of the Emperor and his allies; he felt it was more realistic to find a way to make the Holy See in Rome relent.
In fact, Juan II was well aware that one of the Holy See's primary motives for restricting consanguineous marriage was to make money.
In the Holy See's definition, 'close relatives' could refer to people with common ancestors within four or even seven generations, which meant most marriages among the nobility were affected.
To clear the obstacles for marriage alliances while not losing the support of the Church, nobles needed to pay for dispensations.
That small piece of paper was sold for much more than an indulgence.
Take a recent example: the Duke of Armagnac, who served the Emperor, had fallen in love with his own sister during the time of Pope Callixtus III.
This fellow's reason for incest was also very practical; on one hand, he truly loved her, and on the other, he couldn't afford a dowry.
Having spent a fortune in the struggles against the factions of Burgundy, Brittany, and Orléans, the Duke planned to 'keep it in the family'.
He approached the then Bishop of Alès, agreeing to pay twenty-seven thousand florins for a Holy See dispensation.
After the money was paid, due to severe corruption within the Holy See and an incident where a local bishop defrauded the College of Cardinals by tampering with documents, the matter was made public and faced public criticism from the Pope.
Shortly thereafter, the Duke of Armagnac was charged with numerous crimes such as treason and incest, attacked by the King, and forced into exile with his sister.
They had briefly received asylum in the court of the Kingdom of Aragon, so Juan II was quite familiar with the inside story.
At the time, the Duke of Armagnac wanted to contact the Pope's nephew, Rodrigo Borgia, to resolve the matter. Little did he know that the middleman priest embezzled the money and changed the first-degree marriage of the siblings to a fourth-degree kinship of four generations, obtaining the Holy See's permission directly. However, after the document was delivered back, it was changed back to the first degree.
As a result, the Holy See received significantly less money, while the local bishop pocketed tens of thousands of florins.
Later, due to an uneven distribution of profits, the matter was exposed, and for the Duke, everything was ruined.
Learning from this lesson, Juan II directly sent someone to recall Rodrigo Borgia to Aragon, giving him a large sum of money to grease the wheels at the Holy See and obtain a dispensation.
Since Rodrigo himself was a Cardinal from the Kingdom of Aragon, he naturally took the matter to heart and did his best to help.
Unfortunately, the Pope was almost in total alignment with the Emperor, and the matter remained unresolved.
Regardless, even if the Pope didn't cooperate, declaring war on France was necessary.
Reclaiming lost territory was an important step for Juan II to regain prestige and authority, and now this goal was achieved almost effortlessly.
When the Catalonians in Roussillon and other areas saw the Aragonese army arrive, they directly expelled the local French officials and joyfully welcomed the royal army to reclaim their ancestral lands.
In the past, they had rebelled against the King of Aragon, only for the King to turn around and sell the land to France. As a result, the French would come to raid every few years, making their lives miserable.
Now, seeing that the King of Aragon wanted them back, the repentant Catalonians returned to the embrace of their motherland with tears in their eyes.
This was a case of 'kicking a man when he's down'; Louis XI, who had established himself in Tours, actually felt a sense of relief when he received this news.
Over the past few years, Roussillon had tormented him enough; those fierce and unruly Catalonians were better left for the King of Aragon to deal with.
Surveying the current situation, despite only holding a corner of southwestern France, Louis XI still had confidence in reclaiming his ancestral lands.
In the military camp of the French Kingdom, Louis XI's presence was a rare sight, and even the generals gathered around him felt somewhat apprehensive.
Given the Emperor's military talent—or lack thereof—if he were to command the operations, it was indeed hard for the generals not to feel afraid.
"Gentlemen, most of the territory north of the Loire River has been lost. We must ensure the stability of our rear to lay the foundation for a future counteroffensive."
"Therefore, for the coming period, our strategic focus will be to sweep through the southern lands of the kingdom. Is that understood?"
Louis XI's words quickly met with the unanimous agreement of the generals.
It wasn't that they weren't going to retake Paris out of fear, but that they would fight slowly, deliberately, and according to plan.
In the past, France had faced similar predicaments many times, but it always managed to overcome the crisis through sheer persistence.
"In that case, we currently have two main enemies: one is the Duke of Brittany, who retreated upon hearing of Your Majesty's arrival and is now ravaging the territory of Anjou, and the other is the Armagnac rebel army currently besieging Toulouse," analyzed the Lord of Albret, resting his chin in his hand.
Fortunately, neither of these enemy forces was particularly strong, and their current strength was sufficient to deal with them.
This allowed everyone to breathe a sigh of relief. Indeed, far from the armies of Burgundy and the Empire, their confidence began to rise again.
"Your Majesty, I will handle Brittany. My nephew, René, Count of Vaudémont, is currently stationed in Angers with the armies of Anjou and Maine. As long as you provide some troops to support me so I can join him, the threat of the Duke of Brittany can be eliminated." The Count of Maine, who commanded the Orléans army, suddenly stepped forward.
The Duke of Brittany was burning and looting in his uncle's and his own territories; whether for the kingdom or for his family, this battle had to be fought.
Louis XI stared at the Count of Maine with some hesitation, recalling how he had been screwed over by the previous Count of Maine, and was unable to make a decision at this moment.
The meeting suddenly fell into an eerie silence; no one dared to interrupt the King's thoughts.
Everyone knew that during the first War of the Public Weal, the previous Count of Maine had deliberately advanced the center army slowly, causing the death of Louis XI's most trusted marshal.
Faced with the choice of dividing his limited forces, the King's hesitation was understandable.
After a fierce internal struggle, Louis XI finally chose to trust once more—after all, the people available to him were very scarce, and he truly could not afford to waste existing resources.
"I will give you two Compagnies d'ordonnance and some auxiliary troops. The enemy in Brittany is in your hands."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The Count of Maine accepted the King's aid with great joy and soon led his troops toward Angers.
"Next is Toulouse. The people there are suffering. I need a great general to lead the royal army to rescue the city and destroy the Armagnac rebels."
"I am willing to undertake this mission, Your Majesty," the Lord of Albret stepped forward again.
His army was currently assembling in Gascony; as long as he joined with the King's forces, he could easily overwhelm the Armagnac rebels.
"I can only give you half the army; the other half must be used to guard against enemies upstream, who could march to threaten this place at any time."
As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere grew tense again.
The threat from Nemours and Berry, who occupied the upper reaches of the Loire River, was much greater than that of Brittany and Armagnac. Fortunately, they were still tied down in Orléans; otherwise, they might have had to abandon Tours and continue fleeing further south.
"No problem, but I need you to lend me the Count of Angoulême as my lieutenant."
"You plan to take him to Angoulême to recruit an army?"
"Yes. Combined with my army in Gascony, it won't be difficult to deal with the Armagnac rebels."
"Then it's settled."
After finalizing the subsequent strategic plan, the gloomy and dejected aura around Louis XI seemed to improve significantly.
When he had previously convened a national religious council, most of the southern clergy did not attend, and the local populace was confused and suspicious of this excommunicated monarch.
If his army could rescue Toulouse and pacify the unrest in the south, he would surely regain the support of the people.
This was the fundamental reason why he was willing to take the huge risk of dividing his forces; he needed to restore his political reputation, and he could not afford to hesitate at such a time.
Fortunately, although he had previously put heavy pressure on the nobility, he had always maintained a relatively stable inner circle, which prevented him from completely losing the ability to resist after his excommunication.
After all, only those monarchs whose rule was completely unstable feared excommunication; truly powerful monarchs could easily hold the Pope in the palm of their hand.
Although he did not have power as formidable as the Emperor's to impose his will on Rome, maintaining rule within his own country was not a difficult task.
As he thought, Louis XI suddenly remembered a figure who had once entered the core of his rule, but who now seemed intent on distancing himself.
"Is there a reply from the Count of Foix?"
"The Count claims he is currently busy dealing with Navarrese affairs and fears he cannot provide assistance to Your Majesty."
"Hmph, it seems this time he has sided with Aragon. Another traitor!"
Gaston IV, Count of Foix, was the son-in-law of King Juan II of Aragon and currently served as the regent of the Kingdom of Navarre; his wife was the first in line to the Navarrese throne.
Originally, Gaston was supposed to be the link between France and Aragon, but now that the two countries had fallen out over border issues and various other factors, Gaston, caught in the middle, was forced to make a choice.
Unlike during the War of the Public Weal, this time the Count of Foix did not choose to continue supporting the King, but instead chose to remain neutral in an ostrich-like manner.
He neither helped the King against external enemies nor helped his father-in-law invade France, adopting the posture of a complete outsider.
"Forget it. As long as he doesn't take the opportunity to cause trouble, the situation is still acceptable. That's all for today. You are dismissed."
Louis XI, who should have been in a towering rage, suddenly seemed to lose his steam, waving his hand to dismiss everyone from the tent.
This scene was a surprise even to Louis XI's confidants.
After experiencing such a great upheaval, Louis XI, who had always been scheming against his rivals, had undergone a subtle change in temperament. Although still as gloomy and irritable as before, he had restrained himself somewhat.
He finally realized that his previous reckless actions were the root cause of this disaster, which forced him to try to seek change.
Not because he thought he was wrong, but because if he didn't change in the current situation, he would likely die.
For those still willing to follow the King at such a time, this change was undoubtedly heartening.
The French royal government, temporarily settled in Tours, began to manage the surrounding and southern lands, and various generals were ordered to lead their armies against the enemy.
Having temporarily escaped the most critical moment, the French court barely managed to restore its operational capacity.
Only the citizens of Paris, who had been abandoned to face the Imperial-Burgundian coalition alone, were likely not happy about this.
News of Louis XI reorganizing his court and beginning operations in the south had not yet reached the north. The various armies traversing France were busy besieging key towns, looting wealth to replenish military supplies, and incidentally seizing regional control.
Roughly divided by the Loire River, France began to present a situation of north-south confrontation. Everyone following the war knew that for several years to come, there would be no more peaceful days on French soil.
And Laszlo himself, who had caused all this, was currently reading a letter sent by the Empress from Innsbruck.
Upon learning that he had gained another healthy son, Laszlo felt his spirits lift, and the fatigue from the campaign dissipated significantly.
However, this letter arrived a bit too late. According to the messenger, it was sent in August, but due to the war, it didn't reach him until October.
Therefore, regarding the questions mentioned in the letter about the child's baptism and naming, Laszlo had already sent a letter back, which should have reached Austria by now.
Laszlo held great expectations for the royal newborn, and for this reason, he chose a special name for the child—Rudolf.
Joanna would likely be fond of this name as well; he hoped it would bring her some joy.
Laszlo carefully tucked away the letter sent by his wife. The longing and slight resentment filled within it made him wish he could end this war immediately and return to accompany the poor Joanna.
Coincidentally, such an opportunity had indeed presented itself.
"Your Majesty, the Archbishop of Paris has arrived at the military camp as a representative, hoping to conduct a negotiation with you."
"Bring him in. If this dispute can be resolved peacefully, I think that would be a good choice."
Despite not harboring much hope, Laszlo still chose to hear what the people in the city had in mind.
According to estimates from the merchants following the army, sacking the entire city after capturing Paris could yield roughly 1 to 2 million florins in wealth.
If a ransom were to be collected, around 500,000 florins would be an appropriate price. Of course, the residents within the city might find it difficult to accept, and the soldiers who had fought all the way here with him would not be satisfied with that either.
He could very well do as the Crusaders did during the Fourth Crusade, using the reward for assisting the enthronement as a pretext to squeeze the wealth of all Northern France through the hands of the Duke of Berry.
Back then, the Crusaders demanded 200,000 silver marks. As a result, to scrape the money together, the Eastern Roman Emperor of the time practiced extortionate taxation and was directly strangled in the streets by the rebelling citizens of Constantinople.
Consequently, the Crusaders broke into Constantinople, looted 900,000 silver marks' worth of wealth, and returned fully laden.
Considering such a precedent, Laszlo could easily demand 1 million florins or even more in remuneration from the Duke of Berry.
But without a doubt, this would cause the Duke of Berry and his faction to completely lose the ability to resist Louis XI's counterattack—he hadn't even established a governing system in the regions that were rightfully his to rule, so collecting funds was even more of a pipe dream.
Perhaps, to satisfy Laszlo's demands, he would even have to personally take up arms to rob and blackmail the subjects of France; the scene was quite comical to imagine.
However, if Laszlo only demanded the wealth of Paris itself as payment, the Duke of Berry could still retain a relatively intact Northern France to continue his struggle with his brother.
Moreover, the city of Paris itself was full of malice toward the King of France. Laszlo intended to help the Duke of Berry eliminate some of the resistance to his rule; perhaps the other party would even have to thank him.
With such thoughts, Laszlo entered into a not-so-pleasant negotiation with the Archbishop of Paris.
Faced with Laszlo's exorbitant demands, the Archbishop immediately and sternly refused.
Although Laszlo tried his best to explain that of this 500,000 florin ransom, 300,000 was for the citizens' property and the remaining 200,000 was for their personal freedom, the Archbishop was clearly unable to understand the subtle calculations of the imperial merchants.
After politely seeing off the worried Archbishop, Laszlo made another round of inspections through various camps of the Imperial Army and issued orders for the units to prepare for wintering.
Autumn was already half over, and a winter siege would undoubtedly be even more difficult. However, having come this far, Laszlo did not intend to return empty-handed.
As time passed, the besieging army had built several temporary towns outside the city. Not only were there merchants and service personnel gathered there, but even some French and Low Countries merchants came to hawk supplies. They had all obtained authorization from the King of Burgundy and the Duke of Berry, easing the logistical pressure for the besieging army.
Looking at the daily expanding siege camps, the defenders on the walls had no choice but to endure their inner torment and despair.
Every day, the cannons of the Burgundy and Austria armies would let out thunderous roars from all directions. Some shells struck the walls, while more flew over them and landed inside the city, bringing destruction and panic.
Such shelling had continued from the start of the siege until now. For nearly two weeks, the Allied artillerymen had used almost all the cannons captured from the French army until they were scrapped, and then replaced them with their own cannons.
Many of the nearly two hundred cannons that Charles had previously left to gather dust in the warehouse had already been pulled out and were being rushed to Paris.
Since having the guarantee of saltpeter provided by the Venetians, Laszlo's artillery units were almost free from the worry of gunpowder shortages. Now, they were even competing with their Burgundian artillery counterparts to see whose cannons could exert greater power.
The Allied forces had not yet launched an assault on the city, but the citizens' will to resist was already nearly destroyed.
In Avignon, the depths of the Papal Palace were desolate, with hardly a soul to be seen.
As the seat of the antipapal court, this place was until recently crowded with French clerics, playing the role-playing game of Pope and College of Cardinals.
However, the news of the imminent arrival of the Imperial Army and the Roman Pope changed everything.
To save his life, the antipope Benedict XV very decisively led his newly formed court to retreat further south to Aix-en-Provence, leaving behind fewer than five hundred defenders to protect the sturdy fortress on the periphery of the Papal Palace.
In only about a week, Matthias commanded the army to capture the outer districts of Avignon, and the soldiers who craved wealth were finally satisfied here.
Despite the Pope's restraints, this plundering lasted for less than two days, yet it caused immeasurable losses to Avignon.
After taking most of the old city of Avignon, the Imperial Army was forced to halt its steps outside the Papal Palace.
Though called a Papal Palace, it was actually a massive castle—for a long time, even one of the grandest castles in Europe.
The reason the papal residence in Avignon was designed this way was that multiple popes had been besieged here in the past.
The original walls were constantly raised, thickened, and even expanded outward, gradually turning into a fortified palace-castle.
Moreover, this castle was situated at the highest point of the old city of Avignon; capturing it would likely require a significant price.
Thus, the Imperial Army withdrew from Avignon shortly after, while the several thousand troops led by the Pope remained in the city to prepare for a long-term siege of the fortress.
During this time, the Imperial Army planned to continue south to meet the King of France's loyal supporter, the Duke of Anjou.
Although it was unknown why the Duke of Anjou, who was supposed to protect the Avignon Pope, had chosen to remain idle until now, the Imperial Army would not overlook any possible threat.
Inside the residence of the Duke of Anjou in Aix-en-Provence, 'Good King' René had just seen off the Pope who had been urging him to go to the rescue of Avignon.
The old man looked extremely exhausted. As for the reason, it was because not long ago, the Black Death had broken out again in Marseille, an important economic center of Provence.
Fortunately, it was controlled in time, and the epidemic did not spread to surrounding areas like Toulon and Arles. However, the news of the plague caused the supplies transported from various places to Marseille to decrease drastically.
One must know that the port had been continuously blockaded by the Genoa and Naples navies since the start of the war, and now the land supplies were also cut off.
If nothing unexpected happened, Marseille, facing both blockade and quarantine, would have a group of people die of disease and another group die of hunger; in the end, those who luckily survived would probably not be many.
This was undoubtedly a cruel decision, but René had no choice.
After losing the economic and military support of Marseille, the financial and military power of Provence suffered a huge blow. Let alone rescuing Avignon, he was now even struggling to save himself.
He now only hoped the Imperial Army would stay far away from his territory; otherwise, he wouldn't mind opening the gates of Marseille to bring a disaster upon everyone.
Innsbruck Royal Castle.
Inside the bedroom, Joanna, a new mother, was leaning over her son's small bed, teasing the cute little fellow, while the maids gathered around to admire the heartwarming scene.
Only at times like this could they see the melancholy air about the Empress completely dissipate, as she returned to a radiant state.
After all, the Emperor was always far away when his wife needed him most. Seeing that the Empress they served had a new spiritual anchor, the maids were also happy for her.
They were originally Portuguese maids serving Empress Leonor, and now they were able to serve another Empress from Portugal; this was a stroke of luck for them.
They only hoped that the Empress they were serving this time would live a bit longer, so they could continue to stay in the court instead of being dismissed by the Emperor.
Joanna was unaware that her usual listless appearance was viewed by the maids as a sign of a short life, but the long absence of her husband's companionship was indeed difficult for her to endure.
Thinking of that man, the strength in her hand suddenly increased quite a bit, and as a result, she clumsily made the child burst into loud wailing.
The maids immediately gathered around and spent a great deal of effort before they managed to soothe the little prince.
Just as Joanna was feeling somewhat embarrassed, her personal maid and advisor, Zoe Palaiologina, pushed open the door and waved a letter in her hand.
Joanna quickly settled the child and followed Zoe outside the door.
"Is it a reply from His Majesty?" she asked impatiently before even taking the letter.
Zoe shook her head and sighed softly, saying, "It is a letter from Vienna, sent by Archbishop Georg."
"Vienna?" Joanna took the letter with some disappointment and began to read.
"The letter says that the Aristocratic Party of Styria has been reconstructed. Now that His Majesty is far from Austria, they hope I can return to Vienna to take charge of the overall situation and oversee government affairs... What is the Aristocratic Party?"
It was an unfamiliar term, but according to the education she had received from her father, Alfonso V, since childhood, nobles who formed parties were mostly enemies of the monarch.
Her father had already been exhausted dealing with the Portuguese nobility, and Laszlo seemed to have had a headache over this for a long time as well.
If possible, she did not want any surprises to occur in Austria that would distract her husband's energy.
"The former Aristocratic Party was an alliance of nobles in the State of Styria. They intended to oppose the Emperor's reforms and expand the power of the noble estates. Later, they were completely destroyed by His Majesty for secretly plotting a rebellion."
"So this is another group of opposition nobles? Or were they not cleaned out thoroughly before?"
When discussing politics, Joanna's expression became exceptionally solemn and serious.
Zoe shook her head; she did not know much about this and could not provide an answer.
Joanna then continued reading the latter half of the letter and breathed a slight sigh of relief.
"These people are dissatisfied with the long-term war, believing that the tributes and taxes they pay are being squandered at will, and thus hope the Emperor can quickly end the war. Additionally, the convening of the All-Austria Conference has been delayed for a long time, and they hope the Emperor can listen more to the voices of the various estates."
"There is no helping it. His Majesty is always away from the country due to military affairs. Now, subjects from Constantinople to the Low Countries all hope His Majesty can listen to and satisfy their demands. Among your many duties as Empress, you should include helping His Majesty soothe the dissatisfaction and opposition of the subjects."
"Mhm, it seems we must pack up and prepare to set out for Vienna."
Joanna's body had already recovered from her postpartum weakness, so she naturally had no reason to refuse Archbishop Georg's proposal.
Just as the two finished their conversation, another messenger was brought before the Empress. Behind the messenger followed an attendant, who came carrying a large chest and placed it at the Empress's feet.
"What is this?"
"Your Majesty, this is a letter from the Emperor, along with the gifts he has sent back to you."
Hearing this, Joanna's eyes lit up. She quickly took the letter and glanced at the opened chest at her feet.
Inside the large chest were many neatly folded beautiful clothes; some were made in France, and the rest were mostly exquisite textiles from the Netherlands, looking very valuable.
Furthermore, a smaller box was hidden in the chest, containing several pieces of exquisite jewelry: gold, silver, and necklaces strung with various colored gemstones.
Even Zoe, who was standing by, couldn't help but catch her breath, a feeling of envy arising spontaneously.
However, the Empress's reaction seemed quite plain. She simply had someone lock the chest and move it to a suitable place, then focused on reading her husband's letter.
Nonetheless, the upturned corners of her mouth betrayed her true inner thoughts.
On second thought, most of her dowry had been invested by her husband into the Crusade—that was several shipfuls of wealth; these few gifts were hardly anything in comparison.
But for some reason, her mood was just very good. When she saw that Laszlo had named their first child Rudolf, she felt even more sweetness in her heart.
Rudolf—if she remembered correctly, this was the name of the founding ancestor of the Habsburg Family, the first Emperor of this house.
From this, it was evident how much importance Laszlo placed on this child, which gave Joanna a pleasant surprise.
Now, she also had her own support in this vast court.
As for those others who were both her stepchildren and the children of her cousins, she didn't have any improper thoughts, but the gap between them would likely be even harder to eliminate.
Setting aside these trivial matters, Joanna quickly made the arrangements to return to Vienna.