From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

Three days later, the clouds disappeared and the rain cleared, but Turin had completely turned into an ocean.

On the west side, where the terrain is low, the deepest water here is already above an adult's neck. It is impossible to see what the road conditions are under the yellow-brown water surface full of impurities. Citizens who are not good at swimming may even be at risk of drowning in their daily travel.

The situation in the eastern part of the city is not much better. The water surface of most streets has reached the chest of an adult man. This depth is enough to submerge nearly one-third of the low-rise houses in Turin, leaving nearly 60,000 people homeless and displaced.

Even the residence of His Majesty the King, the Royal Palace of Turin, did not escape this catastrophe. Although the courtiers of the palace tried their best to prevent the flood from pouring in, it was in vain.

The king's favorite back garden, the Florentine Baroque garden, is now occupied by the stinking flood. The precious orchids and vanilla, and the nanmu furniture worth a thousand gold, seem to have to wait for rotting in the water.

The entire first floor of the palace, along with the exquisite and luxurious courtyards, fountains, theaters and churches inside, all became muddy and dirty within these three days.

Even Carlo Emmanuel III himself was forced to move into the upper rooms of the palace despite his inconvenience in his legs and feet.

Humiliation, unprecedented humiliation. In his more than 40 years of ruling the country, Carlo Emmanuel III had never suffered such a great humiliation.

But compared with the predicament in Turin and the suffering of the people, the old king could not care about his own honor and disgrace at all:

Now nearly one-third of the population in the city is homeless and has no place to live. This is definitely the top priority for Carlo Emmanuel III at the end of October when the weather turns cooler.

Every night, I don’t know how many people can’t even find a place to stay. They wear thin and wet shirts and stay awake all night in the bleak and cold autumn wind. They have caught a cold and there are countless people with high fevers.

The lucky citizens could pick up some wooden boards and piece them together into a simple floating platform, but most people could only curl up on the roofs of the flooded houses and sleep on the ground.

Although Carlo Emanuele III had been trying his best to coordinate and settle these citizens, not only did he open the city hall and the buildings of various government departments to the public, but he even set aside an area in the bastions where the army was stationed and the Royal Palace of Turin to accommodate the refugees.

However, these measures could only accommodate a few thousand people at most, which was undoubtedly just a drop in the bucket in front of the 60,000 displaced people.

In addition, Turin is not only short of food now, but even clean water has become a huge problem.

You know, the chest-deep water in the city is all backflowing from the sewers, and the streets of European cities are already full of filth and filth. No one knows how many rotting corpses of snakes, insects, rats, ants and other animals are soaked in the water.

Even if you only look at the disgusting yellow water surface and smell the pungent stench everywhere, no one would want to let any drop of water in it touch their mouth.

But where can the people get clean water?

Almost every well was swallowed by the flood, and the groundwater was also polluted. The palace and the nobles could filter and boil the sewage for drinking, but what could the ordinary people do? They might not have enough firewood reserves in the cold winter, so how could they make a fire and boil water at this time?

In the first two days, the people could still collect clean rainwater from the heavy rain, but as the clouds disappeared and the rain stopped yesterday, the only clean water in the hands of the citizens was about to be consumed.

Some desperate citizens didn't care about so much, and directly plunged into the sewage under their bodies and began to drink. As a result, many people had diarrhea and high fever that afternoon, and many died of dehydration.

On almost every street in Turin, you can see swollen corpses floating on the water, and the living don't even have the energy to sympathize with or pray for the dead.

What's more terrible is that, as the saying goes, there will be a great epidemic after a flood. Although it is not certain whether an infectious plague has broken out in Turin, the remaining citizens can't help but feel panic and fear when they see hundreds of people with high fevers due to colds or dysentery.

After all, no one knows whether a man who fell unconscious in a corner is infected with cholera or plague.

Carlo Emanuele III also ordered doctors and scholars from the University of Turin to help citizens prevent disasters, but those scholars were also unable to protect themselves at this time and were of no use at all.

Despair, boundless despair, no one knows how long such days will last, and no one knows whether they can survive such a catastrophe.

At this time, the 200,000 people in Turin were like a huge powder keg. They were sad, angry, and hateful, not only for the Corsicans outside the city, but also for the nobles who were doing nothing and the king in the palace.

And Carlo Emmanuel III's order to reduce the ration and re-collect the grain reserves became the first spark that ignited this powder keg.

At noon on October 28, Piazza San Martino was already crowded with thousands of refugees. They were hungry and depressed, but they were still looking forward to the delivery of today's food rations.

This square is one of the few highlands in the city, and floods have little impact on it. Therefore, countless refugees have flocked to it in the past few days. Fifty people can squeeze into an open space the size of a courtyard. The entire square Thousands of citizens seeking refuge from the disaster gathered.

Soon, a municipal supervisor entered the square with dozens of officials and police escorting a group of grain carriages.

Upon seeing this, the citizens immediately stood up and lined up around the carriage. Their daily ration was only this meal. If they did not receive food here, they would have to tighten their belts and sleep hard tonight. .

Municipal bureaucrats and police first spent a while trying to maintain order, stopping and arresting more than a dozen refugees who were fighting for the front seats, and then began today's ration distribution.

However, every citizen who received the ration immediately fell silent. They looked at the food in their hands and couldn't believe that this was their food for the whole day:

A piece of bread as thin as an icicle, and a bowl of vegetable stew that smelled suspiciously and was watery, but still cold.

This is still the daily quota for adult men. As for women and children, they don't even get a piece of bread, only a bowl of so-called vegetable stew.

Just for a moment, a series of complaints and roars resounded through San Martino Square:

"Are you kidding me? Yesterday I was able to get a piece of bread, but today I only have this small piece?!"

"I handed in three bags of flour, which was enough for me to eat until winter, but now I can only receive one piece of bread every day?!"

"Damn it, my bread is moldy! Can anyone eat this?"

"There are dead rats and cockroaches in my soup!"

Thousands of refugees waved their fists angrily and approached the municipal manager and the food convoy step by step.

The supervisor was so frightened that he dropped the account book in his hand. In front of him were thousands of refugees filled with grief, anger, and righteous indignation. It was impossible for him and dozens of police officers to deal with them alone.

Just when the situation became increasingly difficult to deal with, an officer suddenly arrived at the scene with more than a hundred soldiers.

Seeing the troops entering, the refugees who were shouting and cheering immediately became much restrained.

But they did not disperse, nor did the anger and unwillingness in their hearts. Everyone still stood there and stared coldly at these uninvited guests.

The city manager immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Although he didn't know the purpose of this army coming here, he still hurried forward to shake hands with the officer and thank him:

"You came just in time, sir, otherwise I would have been beaten to death by these unruly people. If your troops have no other tasks, I wonder if you can help us maintain order on the scene. Today's rations will be distributed soon."

"Maintaining order? Sorry, we have other tasks now."

The officer sneered, not hiding his contempt for the unruly people in front of him. He walked straight to a grain carriage, patted the axle, and ordered loudly:

"Come here, transport all these carriages back to the Southwest Bastion!"

Not only the citizens present widened their eyes, but even the municipal manager was shocked and quickly stopped him:

"What are you doing! Sir, these are rations to be distributed to the citizens!"

The officer ignored the municipal supervisor at all, and while ordering his men to start driving the car, he calmly took out a cut cigar and held it in his mouth. In Turin at the moment, the living conditions of these soldiers are undoubtedly the most generous.

He puffed on the spot for a while, not caring about the hateful looks of the citizens, and then casually threw the half-smoked cigar in the puddle at his feet:

"I am the grain collection officer of the city defense force. The task I received is to once again collect the grain reserves in the hands of the people. It just so happens that the rations here have not been distributed yet. We will save the money from these idiots. Want to come back."

The citizens who heard this were stunned. They couldn't believe that they would see such a ridiculous scene with their own eyes.

Before the city hall even distributed relief grains to itself, the army had to confiscate the grains to superiors again.

What the hell is this, left hand instead of right hand? What about these hungry civilians? ! Is this world so absurd? !

The municipal manager was also shocked. He opened his mouth wide and it took him a long time to squeeze out a sentence:

"Cocoa, then these victims should..."

The officer obviously didn't have much patience anymore. He picked his ears and sighed:

"Brother, your mission is to distribute food to civilians, and my mission is to collect food from civilians. So why bother? I can just take this convoy away and it will be over. We can get the best of both worlds. Okay , stop talking nonsense, I haven’t completed my food collection quota today.”

The officer spoke calmly and carelessly about the people in the square. In his eyes, those who had to crowd in San Martino Square to receive food rations were just the most humble poor people in the city.

There was silence. Everyone was silent for this ridiculous scene, and in this silence, endless anger was quietly brewing.

Rumors had spread throughout the city as to why the rations had been suddenly cut.

Some people say that the food and wine bags in the army are not well taken care of. All the stored grains turned in by the citizens were destroyed in the flood. Others say that this is a microcosm of the corruption-ridden army. The grains they turned in are either circulated in the black market. Or it was given to the adults by flattering officers.

But no matter what the truth is, when they saw that the army in front of them was going to take away their last life-saving food, everyone was strangely angry.

A citizen who could no longer bear it jumped out, he directly blocked the convoy and cursed:

"Are you going to watch your compatriots starve to death in the royal city of Turin! You traitor to the nation!"

The officer chuckled with disdain:

"Traitor? I am a soldier, and the duty of a soldier is to obey. The collection of grain reserves is the order of His Majesty the King. All I have to do is to carry it out to the end. But you, a madman, are you questioning His Majesty's decision? Do you want to hand over Turin to the Corsicans!"

This series of questions is chilling. During the war, no one dared to bear the crime of treason.

The citizen subconsciously took a step back.

However, he was surprised to find that since some time, there was a wall of dozens of indignant citizens behind him.

Everyone glared at the officer in the lead, their eyes were like torches, as if the words just now had not entered their ears at all.

They knew they were trying to stop a chariot with their arms, but they still fought bravely.

"Fuck you!"

The citizen stopped retreating, he clenched his fists, and unexpectedly rushed towards the officer:

"What about the king's order! A king who doesn't care about his people doesn't deserve our support!"

With this roar, the riot began.

All the refugees in Piazza San Martino gathered and completely surrounded the troops who tried to take away the rationed food.

The soldiers raised their muskets to resist, but the distance between the two sides was too close. They didn't even have time to load the ammunition or equip the bayonets, and they were overwhelmed by the citizens who swarmed in.

The officer had already completely lost his life under the beating of the crowd. Perhaps he would never believe until his death that this group of damn mud legs dared to attack a noble officer.

Screams and roars intertwined in the Plaza San Martiro. In less than ten minutes, the grain-collecting team that came to confiscate the relief grain was beaten to death by the angry citizens.

The bureaucrats and policemen in the city hall ran away when they saw this, not daring to stay in such a place of right and wrong for even a second.

The tiles of the square were splattered with blood, the bodies of soldiers and civilians were scattered all over the place, and a group of black crows circled in the air, ready to enjoy their delicious meal at any time.

The people with blood on their hands finally calmed down at this time, staring at each other in a daze, without saying a word, their faces did not have the pleasure of revenge and the joy of victory, but were full of bitterness and confusion.

Yes, they protected what they should have from these bandits, but what should they do next?

The officials who fled would definitely report the situation here to their superiors. It would not take long for the riots in the Plaza San Martiro to attract a large army to suppress them.

At that time, what other options did these unarmed ordinary people have except to surrender and wait for death?

Escape like a flock of birds and beasts? No, even if they could escape the army's pursuit by chance, wouldn't they still have to struggle to survive in this hell of the siege of Turin?

Everyone was thinking about this question, but in fact everyone also tacitly had the same answer:

One must do it, two must stop.

The riot in Piazza San Martiro instantly ignited Turin.

The civilians who survived in the dark corners could no longer endure this hellish day. Even if there was an enemy army outside the city, no one felt that they had an obligation to sacrifice their lives for those dignitaries.

They did not want to betray their country, they just wanted to live.

Countless people joined the riot, and they gathered into an unstoppable stream of people, with only one destination - the Royal Palace of Turin.

At the beginning of the riot, due to the traffic impact caused by the accumulation of water in the city, the response of various armies and police was extremely slow, and there was no time to put out the rebellion in its infancy.

When the citizens gathered in large numbers, the military and police did not dare to rashly suppress the huge crowds of people. Before receiving orders from their superiors and the king, no one dared to further expand the situation.

Soon, thousands of suffering people completely surrounded the palace, and the water on the streets was full of floating boats. The curses were endless all day long, and everyone was shouting loudly to ask His Majesty the King to give them a way out.

Carlo Emanuele III, who was presiding over the court meeting, was in a trance for a long time after hearing the news. He did expect the people's unrest, but he never expected that this riot would come so quickly.

It was obviously impossible to use the army to suppress the riot. Half of Turin had already raised the banner of resistance. If a massacre was carried out at this time, not to mention whether the Corsicans outside the city would take advantage of the situation and enter, the loss of prestige caused by such a bloody suppression was not acceptable to Carlo Emanuele III.

The old king absolutely did not want to leave a turbulent Sardinian Kingdom to Prince Vittorio.

The municipal officials, the Minister of the Interior and the Minister of the Army took turns to try to negotiate with the mob on behalf of His Majesty the King in exchange for their departure.

But the extremely angry citizens did not accept the persuasion of these ministers at all. They demanded to see His Majesty the King in person and get the King's promise.

The people became even more angry. They even began to attack the defense line formed by the Royal Palace Guards. Even the irritable Minister of the Army was hit on the head by a stone when he scolded the citizens.

The situation was getting out of control, but Carlo Emmanuel III still couldn't accept negotiating with the representatives of the people in person.

Although the old king was indeed an outstanding negotiator and had brought huge benefits to the Kingdom of Sardinia in several diplomatic negotiations, His Majesty, who came from the ancient Savoy Dynasty, would never negotiate with the mobs.

It was undoubtedly a great shame for a noble king to lower himself and negotiate with the representatives of these mobs in person. This was his bottom line.

Just as His Majesty the King was determined to go his own way and the situation became increasingly tense, the Corsican army, which had noticed the unrest in Turin, took action.

They did not send troops to attack, but instead sent an envoy alone in a small boat to approach the walls of Turin, claiming to represent Prime Minister Bonaparte to negotiate a contract with His Majesty the King of Sardinia.

After obtaining permission to enter Turin, the envoy did not enter the Turin Royal Palace under the escort of soldiers. Instead, he claimed that his personal safety was threatened and asked to inform and submit the peace terms to the Kingdom of Sardinia in public outside the palace, under the gaze of thousands of Turin people.

The treaty brought by the envoy can be summarized into four simple clauses:

First: The Kingdom of Sardinia officially announced that it would transfer the sovereignty of Sardinia and its affiliated islands to the Kingdom of Corsica, and permanently abandon all claims to Sardinia and its affiliated islands; the Kingdom of Sardinia could retain the legal status of the kingdom and change its name to the Kingdom of Savoy.

Second: The Nice region obtained by the Kingdom of Sardinia in the "1748 Treaty of Aix-la-Chapter" must be returned to the Kingdom of France.

Third: The Kingdom of Sardinia will pay the Kingdom of Corsica an annual war reparations of 120 million livres or equivalent gold and silver for ten years. The reparations will be received by the Bank of St. George, and one-third of the reparations will be used to establish the Turin Investment Fund for the post-disaster reconstruction and recovery of the city of Turin.

Fourth: The Kingdom of Sardinia reached an unconditional peace with the Kingdom of Naples and the Kingdom of Spain, and abandoned all diplomatic relations with the Sicilian rebel forces and withdrew from the Italian War.

After reading the peace treaty brought by the Corsican army in public, the envoy also promised the thousands of citizens present in the name of Prime Minister Bonaparte:

If Carlo Emanuele III and his cabinet accepted this treaty, the Corsican army would not only not enter Turin, but would also immediately dismantle the Po River embankment and lift the water attack on the city of Turin.

Even in the face of the food shortage in the city, Prime Minister Bonaparte said that out of humanism and sympathy for his Italian compatriots, he could immediately give a batch of Corsican army supplies to the people of Turin, even if the King of Sardinia did not accept this peace treaty.

Listening to the words of the envoy echoing in the square in front of the court, thousands of citizens were silent, and the scene was silent.

Everyone hated the Corsicans who brought this catastrophe, but from a realistic perspective, from their perspective, and from the perspective of a group of ordinary people struggling to survive in the besieged city, the treaty offered by the Corsicans and the promise of Prime Minister Bonaparte were indeed very attractive.

The two most important items in the treaty were nothing more than the cession of Sardinia and Nice, but what did this have to do with these ordinary people?

Would the gold and silver on Sardinia and the silk and pearls in Nice fall into the pockets of these poor people who had nothing?

As for the impact of losing these two territories on the country, few ordinary people would consider it.

"Fuck national affairs, I just want a piece of bread and a dry bed."

This is the cry from the bottom of the hearts of thousands of civilians struggling to survive in the flood.

Moreover, Prime Minister Lawrence Bonaparte also promised that the army would not enter Turin, which made the citizens who were worried that the Corsicans would burn, kill and loot after entering the city breathe a sigh of relief. They were already struggling on the brink of life and death and absolutely did not want to face the sharp blades of the Corsicans who ate raw meat and drank blood.

As for the part of the peace treaty about using one-third of the war reparations for investment in Turin, and Prime Minister Bonaparte's promise to give the Corsican army's supplies to the people of Turin, it made the citizens present feel incredible.

Everyone understands that a general's success is the result of the sacrifice of thousands of people.

I have never heard of an enemy commander offering to deliver supplies to the besieged city, let alone spending the war reparations on the enemy's citizens.

But for a siege commander who was sure of victory, Lawrence Bonaparte's behavior was no less than the mercy of the Virgin Mary. After all, he could just wait for the food in the city to run out, watch the famine and plague raging in Turin, and finally take the city easily.

If the Corsican's kindness was rejected, although the messenger did not say it explicitly, his words had already hinted that Turin would face another massacre on the day of its fall, after the flood, famine and plague.

Although they did not talk to each other, most citizens had the same idea in their hearts:

Let the flood recede, let the hell dissipate, let peace come, all this suffering is enough!

From the first day the flood poured into the city, Turin could not be defended!

The nobles can sing and dance in their mansions until they die, but we may not even see the sun tomorrow!

Soon, the people's demands for the Turin Royal Palace changed.

They no longer asked Carlo Emanuele III to increase the per capita ration and rectify the corruption in the army and the city hall. No one would place hope on those arrogant, stupid and incompetent officers and municipal bureaucrats.

Peace, peace once and for all, this is now the only demand of nearly 100,000 Turin people.

A moment later, the Foreign Minister presented the peace treaty brought by the Corsican envoy and the latest demands of the people outside the palace to His Majesty the King.

After hearing all this, Carlo Emanuele III was in a trance for a long time. It took him five minutes to come back to his senses. He only uttered one sentence:

"Lawrence Bonaparte. As insidious as a venomous snake and as cunning as a ferret. His reputation is well-deserved."

"Your Majesty."

The Foreign Minister raised his head cautiously and advised smartly:

"Since the Corsicans want to use their logistical supplies to win people's hearts, why don't we take advantage of their tricks and accept the supplies they send to defend Turin, and then wait for His Highness Vittorio."

"You idiot!"

His Majesty the King suddenly got angry, and the disappointment in his words was not concealed at all , at this point, the king was too lazy to have any more polite conversations with this useless foreign minister:

"Do you think Lawrence Bonaparte's proposal to deliver supplies to us is really out of humanism? Is it out of sympathy for his fellow Italians? He was sure that I would not accept this proposal, so he deliberately told those citizens!"

The old king knew that the defenders in the city would never accept this ridiculous proposal of the Corsicans. If they accepted it, the Corsicans would definitely take advantage of the situation to make a series of additional demands, such as all supplies must be escorted into the city by the Corsicans themselves.

And by then, who can guarantee that the Corsicans' cabins used to transport grain will not be filled with fully armed soldiers, ready to stage a Trojan Horse in the 18th century?

Carlo Emmanuel III could already conclude at this time that Lawrence Bonaparte was sure that he would not accept it, so he deliberately leaked this news to thousands of people.

After all, in this way, the public opinion becomes:

"Prime Minister Lawrence Bonaparte is compassionate and takes the initiative to send supplies to the suffering enemy people; His Majesty the King of Sardinia is angry and would rather his people starve to death than accept the charity of the Corsicans"

At that time, those people will not care whether the Corsicans' proposal will lead to the fall of Turin. They will only think that His Majesty the King in the deep palace puts his face above the lives of his people.

As for the so-called part of the peace treaty that one-third of the war reparations will be used to establish the Turin Investment Fund, Carlo Emanuele III can see at a glance that this is not what the envoy claimed, that is, to compensate for the losses of ordinary people in the war.

The purpose of Lawrence Bonaparte's move is nothing more than to coerce the public opinion of Turin, so as to monopolize and control the entire financial sector of the Kingdom of Sardinia in the future.

Although he had not seen the detailed treaty delivered by the Corsicans, Carlo Emmanuel III could already guess that the Corsicans would inevitably add a large number of additional clauses to guarantee the privileges of this investment fund in the kingdom's financial world and the Corsicans' complete control over the foundation.

Once this so-called investment fund is established, it will have strong funds, powerful political privileges, and enthusiastic support from the general public. With these unique advantages, the Turin Investment Fund will become the leader of the kingdom's financial world in a very short time.

And such a foundation that represents the bourgeois class and monopolizes the entire national financial industry is actually controlled by the Corsicans.

Then the countless profits it earns will naturally flow to Ajaccio instead of staying in Turin.

However, only a very small number of people like Carlo Emmanuel III who have received a good diplomatic education can see this level.

The general public is ignorant and stupid, and Carlo Emmanuel III once again deeply realized this truth.

At this point, if he expressed opposition to the establishment of the Turin Investment Fund, the first people to be angry would not be the Corsicans, but the 200,000 people in Turin. They would only rebuke His Majesty the King for preferring to give gold and silver to the Corsicans rather than staying to benefit his own people.

And Carlo Emanuele III has also realized that the biggest purpose of the Corsican envoy coming to Turin was not to submit this treaty. He came here at the order of Bonaparte from the beginning to seduce people and add fuel to the already urgent Turin riots.

In the end, Lawrence Bonaparte, who stayed behind the scenes, could gain both fame and fortune, and reap the fruits of victory under the worship of the citizens of Turin.

"Brilliant, really brilliant."

After the rage, Carlo Emmanuel III collapsed on the throne exhausted, muttering to himself:

"Landing in Vadolidore, raiding Genoa, dividing troops to contain Vittorio, attacking Turin from Genoa, building dikes and water attacks for two weeks, and finally deceiving people and manipulating public opinion. Lawrence Bonaparte has a set of tricks. Even if I were 20 years younger, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to do it..."

The situation has come to a critical point. The old king has no energy and doesn't want to scold Lawrence Bonaparte for his hypocritical words and deeds.

The two are both supreme rulers of a piece of land and above everyone else. Carlo Emmanuel III himself knows that hypocrisy is just a compulsory course for an ambitious person.

Carlo Emanuele III also understood that even though he had seen through Lawrence Bonaparte's plan, it was too late.

The siege of Turin was a dead end. Even if the best chess player took over the game, it would still be useless, not to mention that he was the best chess player on the European continent.

Thinking of this, the old king looked at the peace treaty at hand.

"Your Majesty!"

Seeing that His Majesty seemed to be thinking seriously about the treaty in his hand, the Minister of Foreign Affairs was shocked. He would never accept the fact that the kingdom was defeated.

Prince Vittorio was still leading an army of 10,000 and had an absolute advantage in military strength. How could he sign this humiliating treaty without fighting a single soldier?

"His Royal Highness's army has not yet fought with the main force of the Corsican army. We can just pretend to surrender and delay time until..."

"No need."

Carlo Emmanuel III interrupted the foreign minister softly. The moment he accepted the defeat of the Kingdom of Sardinia, his body and mind relaxed and his voice became much calmer:

"This treaty needs to be signed by the French. If it is torn up rashly after signing, it will not only be Sardinia and Nice that will be lost."

Like the treaty signed with the Republic of Genoa last time, Lawrence also made the Kingdom of France a co-signatory of the treaty. With Carlo Emmanuel III's diplomatic experience, he could naturally see Lawrence's intention.

Although Louis XV's war-weariness is well known, France is also eyeing the recovery of Savoy. Since France and Austria formed an alliance, France's expansion focus in Europe has been on Savoy and Nice in the south.

The Duke of Choiseul, who has fallen on the surface, is still trying his best to expand the war in Italy. If the Kingdom of Sardinia tears up the peace treaty at this time, it will undoubtedly give the Kingdom of France a handle. The French army will probably enter Savoy in three days.

Savoy and Piedmont are the foundation of the entire kingdom. Their importance is far beyond that of Sardinia. If Savoy is lost in order to save Sardinia, Carlo Emmanuel III himself will not be able to face the ancestors of the Savoy dynasty in heaven.

"But.!"

The Foreign Minister wanted to say something, but Carlo Emmanuel III was already impatient to listen.

He also had to admit that Lawrence Bonaparte drafted this treaty just right. He made a big opening but also controlled the intensity above his bottom line.

If the treaty required Savoy to be ceded to France, then Carlo Emanuele III would rather risk being overthrown by 200,000 mobs and absolutely defend Turin to the death, and even if Turin was lost, he would order Prince Vittorio to resist to the end.

But if it was Sardinia, this island was originally a trophy obtained by the kingdom from the War of the Spanish Succession, and its greatest role was just to pay some fiscal revenue to the kingdom and provide a kingdom title.

As for Nice, when it held Sardinia, this port city was the most important trade outlet for the kingdom, but since Sardinia was about to be ceded to the Corsicans, the importance of this city was greatly reduced.

There were only the Foreign Minister and the King in the empty throne room. Carlo Emmanuel III just looked at the treaty in his hand quietly without saying a word, but in fact he knew that he had no bargaining power with the Corsicans.

Suddenly, an officer of the Royal Guard broke into the throne room and asked anxiously:

"The mob is already attacking the palace gate, and many of them are armed! Your Majesty, please give the order to open fire, otherwise the Turin Palace will..."

"Alas"

The long sigh echoed in the throne room, even drowning out the officer's anxious shouting.

Time is running out.

Carlo Emmanuel III stood up, staggering, and only managed to stabilize his body with the help of the Foreign Minister and the officer.

Although he knew that this was the wisest and most rational decision, and although he thought he was well prepared, Carlo Emmanuel III still felt dizzy when he thought that he would sign the humiliating treaty.

The king's eyes were blurred, and he could no longer see the hall in front of him. All he could see was the war and fighting for forty years.

He once led 20,000 troops to fight against the Franco-Spanish coalition of nearly 60,000, and defended the country under the siege of the two great powers; he also defeated the French army in the Battle of Asita, and was hailed as a rare war genius in the world.

France, Spain, and Austria, the three great powers surrounded the land of the Kingdom of Sardinia; the War of the Polish Succession, the War of the Austrian Succession, and the Seven Years' War, the turmoil of the three wars swept the land of the Kingdom of Sardinia.

He sought opportunities in these gaps, preserving the kingdom while expanding the territory in northern Italy.

In Vienna, his eloquence won the applause of the whole house, in Aachen, his diplomatic skills were amazing, and the signing of the Treaty of Vienna in 1738 and the Treaty of Aachen in 1748 also brought a large amount of territory to the entire kingdom.

Langhe, Torto, Novara and Nice, he personally incorporated these lands into the territory of the kingdom.

Frederick the Great of Prussia praised him highly, while Louis XV of France was a little afraid of his uncle.

The great achievements of the past forty years kept passing by the old king's eyes, but they could not arouse the slightest joy and pride, but made him feel that the reality in front of him was becoming increasingly cold and cruel:

The Kingdom of Sardinia was defeated, defeated by the Corsicans.

Carlo Emmanuel III was defeated, defeated by Lawrence Bonaparte.

The foundation of the country for forty years was also handed over to the Kingdom of Corsica in one day.

If I were twenty years younger, if I had the same control over the kingdom as I did twenty years ago, would everything be different?

The old king shook his head and threw all illusions out of his mind:

"Bring the pen, ink and seal."

After a moment, he took the quill handed by the attendant and tremblingly signed his cursive name on the peace treaty. The strokes were slow, but there was no hesitation.

Then, under the stunned gaze of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the old king opened the golden seal and used all his strength to stamp the white cross of the Savoy Dynasty under the signature.

Since Carlo Emmanuel III ascended the throne, this emblem has appeared on victory treaties countless times, and he never thought that one day he would stamp this elegant and exquisite emblem on an unequal treaty that would humiliate the country.

He handed the signed peace treaty to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the quill pen in his hand accidentally slipped to the ground:

"Write back to the envoy of the Corsican army. The Kingdom of Sardinia has accepted their conditions. This news has also been announced to all citizens of the city. The peace they want has come."