Dijon, the palace of the Kingdom of Burgundy, has now become one of the Emperor's favorite temporary residences.
Laszlo was not yet aware that his Empress was currently battling the Austrian nobles who were resolutely resisting the stabilization of regular taxes; at this moment, he was busy finalizing a deal reached not long ago.
Shortly after the fall of Paris, under the active persuasion and mediation of the Duke of Berry, Laszlo, Charles, and the Duke of Bourbon finally reached an agreement.
The House of Bourbon was required to pay a ransom of one hundred thousand florins, cede several important towns and a castle in the County of Forez to Burgundy, and surrender territories around Lyon to the Emperor in exchange for the Duke of Bourbon's freedom and the security of his family's lands.
After plundering Paris, Laszlo looked down on this ransom somewhat, but it was still meat delivered to his doorstep, and it would be a waste not to take it.
The Duke of Bourbon, as the most powerful feudal lord in all of France after the independence of Burgundy and a descendant of the Capetian Dynasty, was of self-evident importance.
If it weren't for the fact that his family's territory was located in the heart of the Massif Central in France, which would have made an invasion by the army very troublesome, Laszlo would have led his forces straight in long ago.
Now, the Duke of Bourbon promised to support Charles VIII in the subsequent war; in return, Charles VIII quickly appointed the Duke as the Governor of Guyenne, entrusting him with the administration of half the lands of the Duchy of Berry.
While such a move was intended to win people over, the trust inherent in it was also beyond doubt.
Berry was, after all, the foundation of Charles VIII's power, and the Duke of Bourbon was quite pleased with this display of trust.
There was no helping it; he had previously suffered a massive defeat with the kingdom's elite that Louis XI had entrusted to him. Now, even if Louis XI personally said he forgave him, the Duke himself likely wouldn't believe it.
By comparison, the appreciation of a new sovereign was more attractive to this duke who was forced by circumstances.
As for those territories forced to be ceded to Burgundy and the Empire... he would just treat them as if they had never existed.
After the Battle of Agincourt, the ransom demanded by the Englishmen was truly terrifying; everyone from the Duke of Orléans down to the minor nobility was essentially extorted into bankruptcy.
In contrast, the price he had to pay was much smaller—largely because Charles VIII mediated the deal, and partly because the Emperor was in a hurry to get the ransom and thus did not make an exorbitant demand.
In the audience hall, Laszlo, the representative of the King of Burgundy, and the Duke of Bourbon met with the envoy sent by the House of Bourbon.
"Noble Emperor, here is the agreement for the transfer of estates and the ransom you requested. I pray that you keep your word and release the Duke."
The envoy respectfully presented several documents to the Emperor, and the guards behind him carrying chests opened those heavy boxes, which were filled to the brim with florin gold coins.
Olivier de la Marche, the Chief Steward of Burgundy standing beside Laszlo, personally inspected the documents and nodded to the Emperor after confirming they were in order.
"Of course. I hope that what happened before will not affect the friendly relations between us, Duke," Laszlo said with a smile, looking at the dejected Duke of Bourbon.
It was truly a case of adding insult to injury.
The Duke of Bourbon wished he could sink through the floor, but at this moment, he had to force a smile and reply, "I will remember your grace, Your Majesty."
"Hm, but speaking of which, your brothers are quite capable," Laszlo said suddenly, with a hint of hidden meaning.
Pierre de Bourbon, the third brother currently managing the Bourbon lands, had quickly reorganized the chaotic territory after his eldest brother's capture and organized defensive lines at various strategic points to resist potential invasion, which caused Laszlo to lose interest in invading Bourbon.
After the terms were settled, the other party quickly raised sufficient ransom, the speed of which surprised even Laszlo.
And the second brother of this family was even more remarkable: Charles de Bourbon, the former Archbishop of Lyon and now the Antipope Benedict XV in Avignon.
It goes without saying what this sensitive identity implied.
The Duke of Bourbon was no fool; although he had spent his life in the military, he still had some political experience.
"My brother was merely misled by treacherous people for a time. I hope you and the Pope can show mercy and grant him a way to live; I am willing to write to him personally to persuade him to abdicate voluntarily."
In fact, even if an Antipope failed, he would likely not be executed, but at most deposed and confined to a monastery for life.
Born into the House of Bourbon, Benedict XV would have no trouble living a comfortable life even if he lost his papal dignity.
However, if he persisted in his ways, accidents could easily happen on the battlefield, and who knows if he would be able to keep his life in the end.
As the eldest brother, the Duke of Bourbon could not bear to see his brother become a sacrifice to Louis XI's ambition.
Laszlo nodded with satisfaction, feeling very gratified by the Duke of Bourbon's cooperativeness.
Words don't teach, but experience does; once is enough.
The Duke of Bourbon, who had suffered much at Charles's hands, now understood the importance of picking a side; since that was the case, there was no harm in doing him a favor.
Moreover, the current situation was quite thorny for Laszlo.
God knows why the Black Death suddenly broke out in Provence; although it did not spread on a large scale due to geographical barriers, it still caused heavy casualties in the armies of the Empire and the Holy See, even forcing them to retreat northward along the Rhône River repeatedly.
Fortunately, the mortality rate of this plague was not too terrifying; many soldiers recovered after a period of fever, though they remained physically weak for a long time and were unable to fight.
"If the Antipapal court can truly be resolved through peaceful means, I will facilitate a reconciliation between the Pope and your brother."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Don't be happy too soon. The plague is rampant in Provence lately, and the Antipope is currently hiding in Aix-en-Provence; I wonder if he will catch the disease.
If he is willing to listen to your persuasion, then have him leave Provence as soon as possible, and I can guarantee his safety," Laszlo said solemnly.
His credit was still very good, unlike his grandfather Sigismund.
However, there was one measure of Sigismund's that Laszlo intended to emulate—not, of course, burning Huss at the stake.
At the Council of Constance back then, the Hussites were just a small interlude; the real main event was resolving the Great Schism, ending the ridiculous situation of three simultaneous popes, and pushing for church reform.
At that time, Antipope John XXIII chose to flee under pressure from the College of Cardinals and the Emperor, and the Duke of Outer Austria at the time, out of ambition, decided to assist his escape and hide him in the Outer Austrian capital of Freiburg.
Thus, the tragedy occurred. In a fit of rage, Sigismund issued an Imperial Ban against the Duke of Outer Austria. The Swiss cantons took the opportunity to invade Outer Austrian territory and burned down Habsburg.
And now, there was another bold fellow who chose to harbor the Antipope: Duke René of Anjou, known as "Good King René."
Theoretically, Provence had returned to the embrace of the Empire, but like Lorraine, it was ruled by the House of Anjou of France.
That moment then was exactly like this moment now.
Laszlo had already ordered the drafting of a new Imperial Ban, targeting René, his old rival who had once contended with him in Naples.
Before the Duke of Bourbon could persuade his brother back, Laszlo decided to strike first and strip the House of Anjou of the legitimacy of its rule over Provence—though the method was a bit crude, it was indeed well-founded.
After seeing off the Duke of Bourbon, Laszlo and Olivier divided the ransom on the spot, and then each dispatched men to take over the new territories.
Another few tens of thousands of florins came in, and Laszlo was delighted that his available funds were gradually becoming more abundant.
What was even better was that the army had just plundered Paris, and now a wealthy Lyon lay before them, waiting for them to seize its riches.
Unfortunately, a sudden heavy snowfall blocked the army's path southward.
Many Imperial Princes who had come with their troops to assist, including the Imperial Marshal, the Elector of Brandenburg, bid farewell to Laszlo one after another.
The funds provided by the Imperial Diet had been cut off; if Laszlo were willing to pay out of his own pocket, keeping these few thousand Imperial troops would not be a problem.
However, the Imperial soldiers, who were originally enthusiastic about Lyon, changed their attitude because of the heavy snow.
If one were to visit the military camp outside the city of Dijon, they would see that everyone was now carrying a significant amount of wealth, with all sorts of spoils piled up like mountains.
Although merchants who had heard the news were trying their best to purchase valuable loot, their capital was undoubtedly stretched thin compared to the massive quantity and high value of the spoils.
From the marshal down to the soldiers, the eyes of everyone no longer held that same fervent desire for wealth as before; more people hoped to leave the war quickly and take this windfall back to their hometowns to enjoy.
They had come for this in the first place; now that their goal was achieved, they naturally did not intend to stay any longer.
After weighing the options, Laszlo finally chose to disband the Imperial Army, ordering them to return to the Empire on their own.
However, over a thousand people still chose to stay and continue serving the Emperor; Laszlo then took on their pay and logistics, and incorporated those warriors willing to join the Emperor's army into the legions that had suffered more casualties.
This had transcended the scope of Imperial duty; in other words, it was a manifestation of loyalty, meaning those who stayed would have the chance to receive additional rewards.
Not a few people were eyeing the new Imperial lands opened up by this war.
Not only that, but the Emperor's gains in this war were also noted by the Imperial Princes; for this reason, they specially elected a representative to come and ask the Emperor for a "dividend."
The carriage moved with difficulty through the wind and snow, and the bumpy road made the passengers inside miserable.
Adolf, the Archbishop of Mainz and Chairman of the Imperial Privy Council, dressed in purple clerical robes, was worried that his old bones would fall apart from the cold and the jolting on the road.
The middle-aged man sitting opposite him looked calm, and at this moment even had the interest to reminisce about the past.
"Your Grace, I never expected we would have the chance to travel together in the wind and snow again," Clement, the Austrian Foreign Minister, recalled the events of ten years ago with some emotion.
Back then, he was still a young man, appreciated by Lord Eyczing, and had served as the Emperor's special envoy alongside Adolf to visit Baden and Württemberg to contact allies against the rebellious Mainz and Palatinate.
Now he was a minister of Austria, and Adolf had been in the seat of the Archbishop of Mainz for many years.
This time, they had set out together from Nuremberg to visit the Emperor in Dijon.
"Yes, ten years have passed in a flash, many things have changed, only the Emperor's victories have continued to this day."
Adolf recalled the life-and-death experience at Seckenheim, and in his heart, there was only a profound awe for the Emperor.
At the same time, he also had a faint expectation in his heart.
The Emperor had made a massive fortune in France this time; if they could secure a portion of the spoils for the Imperial treasury...
"This time, the greatest threat to the Empire has also been resolved by the Emperor; the subjects of the Empire should be celebrating for this, right?" Clement felt a sense of shared glory for the Emperor's victory.
The more victories the Imperial Army achieved, the more respect he received during diplomatic activities.
Especially for those weak Imperial Princes, the respect he received was almost on par with an Elector, which was a very satisfying thing.
After all, in the end, he was just a servant of the Emperor, yet he received such generous treatment, which was truly fulfilling.
Regarding the "greatest threat" mentioned by Clement, Adolf only smiled slightly and did not express agreement.
Whether the threat of France was great or not was one thing, but the power of the King of Burgundy had not only become stable in this war but also seemed to have gone a step further.
What was the Emperor planning? Raising a tiger to be a threat, or keeping an enemy to justify his own power?
The sudden emergence of a powerful prince with national strength comparable to Austria, directly threatening the survival of all the princes along the Rhine River, was terrifying to think about.
Adolf had already argued with the Emperor about this, but now the matter was irreversible; he only hoped that the Emperor, as he said, could keep this tiger with its sharpened teeth and claws under control.
"If His Majesty could share the spoils of war and reward the subjects of the Empire who supported him, I think the entire Empire would be jubilant."
"Well..." Clement smiled awkwardly.
What kind of miser the Emperor was—who in the Empire didn't know?
This Archbishop was quite bold, actually wanting to pry a few coins from the Emperor's hand; Clement could only wish him luck.
The Imperial Chancellor's party soon passed through the large military camp outside the city and entered Dijon, which had become quiet due to the weather.
Thanks to the Emperor, this place did not fall into the hands of the French Army in the end, thus escaping the fate of being plundered.
The markets here were still prosperous, but there were not many pedestrians on the roads, hurrying along in the whistling cold wind.
The convoy finally stopped outside the luxurious palace of Burgundy, and Adolf, arriving here for the first time, was quite surprised.
Although slightly smaller in scale than the Hofburg Palace, this place appeared significantly more grand, and the contrast was even more apparent upon entering the palace.
No wonder the Emperor liked to occupy the nest like a cuckoo and live in the palace of the Burgundians; these Burgundian parvenus certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.
Soon, Adolf and Clement were led by an attendant to the Emperor, where they also saw the two princes accompanying him.