Chapter 1313: You Tell Me This Is a Supply Ship?

"This is a supply ship?!" The Franco-Austrian Alliance was stunned all at once.

The speed of the Longyan supply ship was actually so fast that even the most advanced warships of the Franco-Austrian Alliance could not catch up.

Prince Yong looked through his telescope at the Franco-Austrian officers jumping around in a panic on their decks, and grinned: "Haha, a bunch of fools actually want to chase my supply ship."

However, he was also startled by the speed of this supply ship; he knew the steam engine that Liu Zheng had that foreigner improve was very powerful, but he hadn't expected it to be this powerful.

According to Liu Zheng, the biggest improvement to this supply ship wasn't the power, but the entire structure, which made it more like a combat ship.

But everyone knew that supply ships didn't have that much space to install gun turrets, and their hulls were large, making them unsuitable for fighting wars.

Prince Yong watched the Franco-Austrian fleet slowly approaching; it was time to reveal the fangs of the Longyan supply ship.

The Franco-Austrian officers didn't hesitate to think; this must be the consequence of the Longyan Fleet's high-speed movement.

They immediately surrounded and intercepted them; having learned the lesson from being hit by the Longyan Fleet last time, they decided to deploy at high speed to control the Longyan combat ships.

The remaining five supply ships had no combat capability.

But before their cannonballs could be aimed, they saw that the gun turrets on the Longyan supply ships were already aimed at them.

Prince Yong stood on the deck and waved his hand: "Fire!"

The Longyan supply ships instantly transformed into combat ships, unleashing a barrage of cannon fire; the people of the Franco-Austrian Alliance were dumbfounded.

This isn't a supply ship, how could it carry so many gun turrets?

"Longyan!"

"You bastards!"

A cold sneer appeared on the corner of Prince Yong's mouth; he didn't care at all about the curses from the Franco-Austrian Alliance fleet.

At this moment, the Britain general Luojinsi, who had just arrived and attempted to loot a burning house, saw the Franco-Austrian Alliance fleet, which had been fighting him to a stalemate, retreating in defeat.

Even quite a few warships had sunk, and he was stunned; Luojinsi hurriedly put on his telescope to look at the Longyan supply ship.

He was immediately glad that he had come late and hadn't tried to loot a burning house.

"General, are we still going to loot?"

Luojinsi slapped the head of the Chief of Staff who asked the question.

"Loot my ass, didn't you see how miserably the Franco-Austrian Alliance was beaten?"

"Then are we still going to provide escort?"

Luojinsi's mouth twitched: "It would be more like him escorting me."

"Then what about us?"

"Withdraw!" Luojinsi withdrew in a grand manner; as he left, he looked at the Longyan supply ship again, feeling both envy and jealousy—why didn't my dignified Great Britain have such ships?

Liu Zheng is still the capable one.

However, such a powerful ship, if it cannot land at the ports of Western Europe, everything is in vain.

Coincidentally, there are not many ports left in the Mediterranean Sea that can be used for landing now.

Thinking of this, Luojinsi smiled; what million-strong army, floating on the sea, no matter how powerful, it's useless!

In the east of Europe, Tsarist Russia was firmly bound.

Upon learning the news of the war in Western Europe, this was an opportunity, but the once powerful and arrogant Tsarist Russia was silent, and some people even began to secretly run away.

Everyone knew that the twelve-year-old child, Peter II, was just a puppet propped up by Menshikov.

Ever since Menshikov seized power, he suppressed dissidents, and the officials in Saint Petersburg left one after another, fleeing.

After being trapped by what Liu Zheng called the Third Island Chain, Tsarist Russia gradually declined, but with the outbreak of war in Western Europe this time, if they took out their remaining assets to gamble, they might be able to retake the Black Sea Port, or even Siberia!

But the wishes of the people of Tsarist Russia could not reach the ears of this Regent, Menshikov, who hid in Butulin City all day long.

"Keep playing the music, keep dancing."

Menshikov lay on his luxurious and comfortable throne, drinking Yinzhou Drunkenness from Tsarist Russia's enemy, Longyan.

He was enjoying a type of

dance called Ballet.

"This dance was prepared specifically for you, Peter."

The young Peter II nodded slightly: "Thank you, Regent, for the arrangement."

As his gaze moved away from Menshikov's face, disgust flashed in his eyes.

He was young, but he was no fool; from the first day of his accession, Peter II was clear about what this two-faced beast Menshikov was plotting.

Issuing currency with his own portrait, compiling a genealogy to try and shed his identity as a peddler, and even trying to make his daughter marry him.

Everything was nothing more than wanting his own identity and status to be that of a proper Noble.

Once he succeeded, Peter II knew in his heart that he, this Tsar, would have to abdicate, and the outcome would definitely not be good.

He could not tolerate such a thing happening!

"Regent, I will take my leave first."

Menshikov waved his hand; facing the Tsar, he acted as if he were driving away livestock, and the disdain in his behavior was not concealed at all.

Peter II's expression was calm and he paid no more attention; he left Butulin City, returned to Saint Petersburg, and locked himself in his room.

The suppressed anger buried in his heart finally could not help but erupt.

"Menshikov!"

As the Emperor of Tsarist Russia, he actually still had to regularly pay his respects to a subject.

How could this be tolerated?

At this time, someone outside the door requested an audience.

"Your Majesty, Osilev requests an audience."

Peter II quickly tidied his appearance and immediately met with this minister, one of the few left who dared to clamor against Menshikov and was still alive.

"Come in."

As soon as Osilev entered, he knelt on one knee before Peter II: "Your Majesty, it is my incompetence that has allowed Your Majesty to fall into such a perilous situation."

Peter II felt a warmth in his heart and sighed: "Get up quickly."

Osilev did not rise, but instead said: "Your Majesty, Tsarist Russia is currently beset by internal and external troubles. I have a plan, but I do not know if I should speak of it."

It was truly like having a pillow when one is sleepy; Peter II's eyes lit up.

"Speak quickly; this is already the most dangerous moment."

Osilev hesitated for a moment, then said: "We must establish contact with Moscow. As long as Your Majesty moves the capital, Moscow will help us eliminate that traitor Menshikov!"

Moscow!

Upon hearing this name, Peter II was stunned. That was the territory of the Conservative Faction, the Dolgorukov Family, and the Naryshkin Family. Back then, his own father had launched a rebellion in alliance with those conservative families.

They had been suppressed quite miserably by his grandfather, and as the Emperor of Tsarist Russia, there would be no small risk if he went there.

"Your Majesty, Princess Elizabeth has already made arrangements for you. As long as you move the capital and utilize the power of Moscow, you will certainly be able to expel Menshikov."

When Peter II heard the name Elizabeth, his heart stirred. He had three older sisters, and Elizabeth was the one who cared for him the most.

The other two sisters had either been married off to foreign countries by Menshikov or were completely imprisoned; Elizabeth had also been stripped of all her duties and exiled to Moscow.

Peter II thought and thought; from the bottom of his heart, he did not trust that bunch of conservatives in Moscow, but now it seemed that Saint Petersburg no longer had the strength to resist Menshikov.

In the end, this Peter II, who was only twelve years old, made his decision.

"Move the capital, go to Moscow!"