Return to Belgrade

The city of Semlin on the Sava River was already bustling with people.

The afternoon sun poured down, bathing everything in a warm golden hue.

Looking out, the wide Danube River surged endlessly, its waters carrying mud and sand, churning out muddy waves.

On the river, merchant ships shuttled back and forth, their wooden hulls swaying slightly under the impact of the current, sails billowing in the wind, like eagles about to spread their wings and soar.

The boatmen, with their dark skin and strong muscles, shouted work songs as they skillfully maneuvered their boats, exuding a rustic aura.

In the distance, where the two rivers converged, the colors of the water were distinctly different, as if a peculiar painting meticulously crafted by nature.

Semlin City was built along the river, with its orderly houses mostly made of earth and stone, red tiles layered upon layer, and cooking smoke occasionally rising from the rooftops.

The town's streets were not wide, the bluestone paths winding, with small shops along the roadside selling various daily necessities and handicrafts.

Occasionally, a carriage slowly drove by, its wheels grinding on the flagstones, making a creaking sound.

At the street corner, several children were playing and laughing, their crisp and pleasant laughter echoing through the small town.

Around the dock, several simple watchtowers stood, built from sturdy logs, with soldiers on guard.

They wore heavy armor, held sharp weapons, and scanned their surroundings with vigilant eyes.

The city walls not far away, though not tall and majestic, were thick, covered with the marks of time and the scars of war.

The battlements on the city walls were neatly arranged, and urban guards could be seen patrolling them.

At the riverbank dock, several ferries were moored beside the pier, their hulls weathered by wind and rain, the grain of the wood clearly visible.

Some dockworkers were busy moving goods, including heavy wooden barrels, bundles of cloth, and sacks filled with grain.

They were sweating profusely, old towels draped over their shoulders, occasionally wiping sweat from their foreheads with their hands.

The surrounding crowd was bustling, with hurried travelers carrying their luggage, their eyes filled with anticipation for the unknown journey.

There were simply dressed local residents, carrying vegetable baskets, greeting acquaintances warmly.

There were also some merchants, dressed in exquisite clothes, intensely haggling with buyers or sellers, trying to maximize their profits in the transaction.

Laszlo observed the people of Semlin from his carriage throughout the journey.

People by the roadside, seeing the luxurious carriage escorted by the Semlin garrison commander himself, and the double-headed eagle flag fluttering on the roof, as well as the imposing Imperial Guards holding spears and wearing iron armor, all showed expressions of awe.

Many were also curious about the young Emperor, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of what the Emperor looked like.

Seeing such a peaceful and prosperous scene, Laszlo's heart immediately calmed, and a sense of pride welled up within him.

This was not Laszlo's first visit to Semlin; he had been here twice before, the most recent being when he returned from the Balkans.

Who would have thought that just a few years ago, this was the front line against the Ottoman?

The Ottoman had once advanced up the Danube River, launching fierce attacks on Belgrade, and Semlin was also one of their targets.

Now, the people living here live in peace and contentment, no longer having to fear foreign invasion. How can this not be considered his achievement?

Semlin, this is what the Hungarian call it; the Serbia call it Zemun.

This city and Belgrade are located at the confluence of the Sava River and the Danube River, facing each other across the river.

During the period when the Kingdom of Hungary controlled Belgrade, Semlin was regarded as Belgrade's twin fortress.

This city and a large area of inter-river land between the two rivers were all royal demesne. Semlin was the regional capital, the seat of the county government, defended and managed by a military noble personally appointed by Laszlo.

In addition, this was also the station for the Hungarian navy, and the newly built military port here was no less impressive than the Belgrade military port across the river.

When the Emperor's carriage grandly arrived at the Semlin ferry crossing, the originally noisy and busy dock was instantly enveloped by an invisible aura of majesty.

The Imperial Guards quickly dispersed the idle people on the dock.

Hungarian warships and a large number of temporarily requisitioned passenger ships and merchant ships, prepared to carry the Emperor and his entourage across the river, successively entered the port.

Laszlo, the Empress, and Empress Dowager Elizabeth boarded the first batch of ships sailing to the opposite bank, officially stepping out of Hungarian territory. Once the ship reached the opposite bank, they would enter Serbia.

The thousands of attendants, servants, and Imperial Guards behind them would need to be transported across the river in several batches.

The crossing did not take long. As the Emperor's ferry slowly approached the dock on the opposite bank, the oars cut through the muddy waters of the Danube River, stirring up fine splashes.

King Ulrich of Serbia, who had been waiting there, moved a few steps forward, supporting his ailing body with the help of his attendants.

His face was as pale as paper, his cheeks sunken, and his once straight royal robe now hung loosely on his body, the golden belt around his waist appearing particularly empty.

Only the jeweled crown on his head barely still indicated his noble status.

The Serbia soldiers on the shore held long spears, the flags on their spearheads fluttering in the wind, forming a solemn honor guard.

Laszlo personally took Empress Dowager Elizabeth's hand and slowly walked down the ferry, approaching Ulrich, who was struggling to greet them despite his illness.

Both Laszlo and Elizabeth showed signs of heartache when they saw Ulrich in such a critical condition.

Ulrich, seeing his long-unseen young nephew and cousin, forced a smile and said in a weak but warm voice: "Emperor, and... Empress Dowager, welcome."

"Cough, cough, I should have gone to Vienna to see you, but I didn't expect that you would come to Belgrade to visit me instead. Uh…"

He bowed slightly, but almost fell due to lack of strength. Fortunately, the attendant beside him quickly steadied him.

Seeing this, Laszlo quickly stepped forward, reached out to support Ulrich, and said with concern: "My dear uncle, there's no need for such formality between us. Your health comes first."

"Earlier, when I heard that you were suffering from a persistent illness in Serbia, my mother and I were extremely anxious, but we had not found an opportunity to visit you personally."

"Now that I have come to Serbia and see you like this, my heart is truly worried."

His words were full of worry, and his eyes also revealed concern.

This emotion was not feigned. Ulrich, as the regent Albrecht II had left him, truly provided him with a lot of help.

More than a year ago, when Laszlo heard that Ulrich was ill, he thought his uncle would pass away.

Unexpectedly, Ulrich's court physician was indeed well-trained, which allowed him to pull through.

However, after that major illness, his physical condition deteriorated, becoming worse and worse.

Looking at the current situation, he probably won't last much longer. His wife had already passed away before him.

Now, Serbia, which had just been restored for a few years, was about to face the big trouble of an empty crown.

How could Laszlo not be moved that his uncle was still contributing to the Habsburg Family at this time?

This was definitely not the time to smile....

Empress Dowager Elizabeth also walked over at this time and said with heartache: "He was fine a while ago, how did he suddenly become like this...?"

Her eyes were slightly red. Ulrich was her only family member from her maternal side, and for many years he had been her steadfast political ally. Who knew that Ulrich would now pass away first?

Ulrich was quite moved. He composed himself and said: "Thank you for still remembering me. Let's go, Belgrade has already prepared for your arrival and will surely receive the Emperor with the highest courtesy."

With a wave of his hand, drums and music immediately resounded, and the melodious sound of horns echoed throughout Belgrade.

The King of Serbia, the Emperor, the Empress, and Empress Dowager Elizabeth boarded a carriage, which slowly drove towards the Serbia Royal Palace.