Arriving in Bulgaria

In the early spring of 1462, Laszlo's entourage traveled along the Belgrade-Nish-Sofia road, entering the main territory of Bulgaria from Serbia.

Taking this route, the point of entry into Bulgaria is very close to Sofia.

Sofia itself is not too far from the border of Serbia.

Laszlo had many considerations when establishing the kingdom's capital here.

Firstly, Sofia, as the traditional economic and political center of the Bulgaria region, was naturally suitable for use as a capital.

Secondly, it is close to Serbia and far from the Ottoman, making it relatively safer.

If there were any drawbacks, it would be a slightly weaker control over the eastern part of the kingdom, but this minor disadvantage could be completely ignored.

After the Ottoman lords in the Bulgaria region were expelled, the Crusade lords who distinguished themselves in battle completely replaced them.

These lords began to build strong fortresses, large and small, within their own territories, making full preparations to resist another invasion by the Ottoman.

In the eastern part of the kingdom, due to the imminent threat from the Ottoman, the lords needed to rely on the kingdom's power to protect their territories, and thus would not easily defy the decrees of the Regency Court.

Under the tense situation of a major threat not yet removed, the new nobles of Bulgaria showed unprecedented unity, which greatly promoted the stability of Bulgaria.

Laszlo rode his tall steed slowly forward, its hooves treading on the newly paved gravel road.

What the hooves crushed was not only the thorns by the roadside but also the bitter memories intertwined from past years.

Looking out, on the land once trampled by the iron hooves of the Crusade, tender green wheat seedlings swayed in the wind.

Behind the distant poplar forest, the spires of newly built churches gleamed with sacred white light in the sun, while further away, the minarets of mosques had quietly disappeared into the weeds—this was a unique landscape reconstructed by the people of Bulgaria from ruins over several years.

Looking at such a scene, Laszlo was filled with endless emotion.

Five years ago, when he departed from Sofia to return to Vienna, a large area of land centered around this city had been reduced to scorched earth.

While not quite to the extent of "white bones exposed in the wilderness, no chickens crowing for a thousand li," it could still be described as sparsely populated and barren land.

After a few years, at least the land near Sofia had regained vitality.

He would personally go and see what the situation was like in more distant places later.

Before setting off, he had already set the end point of this journey for himself—Varna.

He wanted to revisit the old place, personally pay respects to the fallen Crusade warriors, and motivate himself to continue striving forward.

Not far away, the city walls of Sofia were now fully visible to everyone.

The old stone walls still bore mottled traces, and the newly repaired sections of the wall intertwined with the old, silently telling of the brutality of war.

At the city gate, the long-separated "Imperial Uncle" Frederick was leading his Regency Court, patiently waiting for the arrival of the Emperor's carriage.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with him were Prince Vlad of Wallachia and Grand Master Martin of the Order of Saint George, who had been summoned.

As for Prince Stefan of Moldavia, he had intended to personally come and meet the Emperor, but the Tatars from Crimea had once again entered Moldavia's territory, plundering everywhere.

Stefan personally led his army to confront the raiders and protect the lives and property of the people of Moldavia, and thus could only send an envoy to Sofia to express his loyalty to the Emperor on his behalf.

Stefan was extremely devoted to the people of Moldavia; he rectified order, established laws, liberated serfs, consolidated border defenses, and lightened taxes.

In just a few years, Moldavia's national strength steadily grew, and although the people's lives could not be called prosperous, a stable existence was guaranteed.

Therefore, the young Stefan earned the title of "Father of the Homeland."

His abilities made Laszlo envious, but as a sovereign ruler, Stefan would probably not be willing to abandon his people to serve him in Vienna, so Laszlo had long since given up the idea of recruiting Stefan.

Coming back to his senses, Laszlo had already passed through the city gate of Sofia, surrounded by the crowd.

This city had been fiercely attacked by the Bohemia army commanded by Rosenberg during the Crusade.

After the city fell, the Crusade plundered it for several days, expelled infidels, and almost completely destroyed Sofia.

When Laszlo was crowned King of Bulgaria in Sofia, only a small part of the city remained intact, with the rest having been reduced to ruins.

Today, the smoke-filled ruins have long been cleared, and new houses, churches, and markets have sprung up, bringing this ancient, long-suffsuffering city back to life.

Along the way, people knelt by the roadside, no one daring to look up at the Emperor's appearance, fearing that any offensive action might bring about their demise.

They did not care who ruled, whether it was the Ottoman or the Latin lords; no lord had ever truly cared about them, the common people.

But the terror brought by the Emperor was deeply imprinted in the hearts of the people of Bulgaria; just hearing of the Emperor's carriage approaching could stir up the fear deep within them.

The cobblestone streets gleamed, slick with sewage spilled by vendors.

In the dark alleys, piles of horse manure and rotten vegetable leaves from last night's cleanup lay, with a few emaciated street children sifting through them with wooden sticks for anything edible.

The market street corner was filled with a pungent, fishy smell, as fishmongers loudly hawked herring freshly transported from the Danube River, piled on blood-stained wooden boards.

A few old women wearing headscarves squatted in a corner, secretly selling their homemade rose jam, quickly covering their clay pots with faded prayer coins when a patrolling soldier approached. In the blacksmith shop at the corner of the street, the clang of the anvil mixed with the roar of the bellows.

Church bells pierced the mist, and black-robed missionaries walked by, holding brass censers, frankincense mingling with the stench that permeated the streets, swirling in the air.

Such a chaotic scene instantly made Laszlo lose all interest, and he barely listened to Frederick's complacent words about his achievements.

He urged his horse onward, quickening his pace towards the Bulgaria Royal Palace.

As he passed the square in front of the city hall, he suddenly noticed that there were several majestic statues standing in the square.

The sculptures, with their distinctly East Roman style, were extremely delicate, and Laszlo recognized the tallest one at a glance—it was himself.

This statue, about two people tall, depicted him in sturdy armor, raising his sword high, with a resolute expression, commanding a large army, with a broken crescent moon at his feet.

Behind his statue stood several slightly shorter statues.

He recognized those people: Janos, Rosenberg, Ulrich, John, Albrecht, Vlad, Fernando, and Philip—these were the commanders of the various Crusade forces.

His previously bad mood suddenly improved, and Laszlo's lips curled into a faint smile. Frederick keenly sensed his nephew's thoughts and secretly rejoiced.

This was something he had specially commissioned, having anticipated Laszlo's preferences, and placed in the center of Sofia, to demonstrate his loyalty to Laszlo and to awe the restless people of Bulgaria.

The Emperor's carriage finally arrived in front of the extensively repaired and expanded Bulgaria Royal Palace. Looking at this impressive palace, Laszlo's mood became somewhat complex for some reason.

"Let's go, Uncle Frederick, let's go to the Royal Palace and discuss in more detail how Bulgaria is doing now."

"Yes, Emperor."