This was Joseph’s “sacrifice” plan.
However, Elder Aly, ever cautious and prudent, once again rejected his proposal, politely hinting that the young dignitary should not come again. As a Berber who had managed to stand firm in the religious circles of Tunis controlled by the Ottoman People, he relied on this cautious approach of not sticking his neck out and not taking risks.
Joan watched the old man leave, looking disheartened towards the Crown Prince, about to ask what to do next when he saw His Highness turn to the two “guards” behind him:
“How about it? Are you confident?”
The two men simply nodded, then immediately returned to the carriage, took out charcoal and a sketchpad, and began to sketch.
More than ten minutes later, Joan saw a lifelike representation of Elder Aly on their drawing paper.
“Your Highness, what are you planning to do?!” he asked the Crown Prince in surprise.
“Since Elder Aly doesn’t agree, we’ll just have to agree on his behalf,” Joseph said with a sly smile, then ordered the carriages to proceed to a prepared house several streets away.
The two painters entered the house and immediately set up their easels, wielding their full array of oil painting tools to continue their work.
Joseph watched the two men busily at work and couldn’t help but sigh:
“Her Majesty the Queen was truly prescient in instructing me to bring all the exclusive painters!”
A few days later, an oil painting of Elder Aly calling solemnly for his followers to drive out the Imperial Guard bandits spread like wildfire throughout Tunis.
Above the painting was an oval frame with sharp angles, which read: Drive out the Ottoman People and reclaim the wealth from them; everything but the land belongs to those who heed the call.
The sharp point of the angle pointed directly to Elder Aly’s mouth, making it clear these were his words.
Each province had a large number of oil paintings circulating, and those printed with lithography, while less colorful, numbered in the tens of thousands.
In less than ten days, the whole of Tunis knew that Elder Aly had “declared war” on the Ottoman People.
This method, Joseph had been inspired by the previous “The Last Supper.”
If the French people, much more educated than the Tunisians, were firm believers in the truth of what was depicted in oil paintings, then the Tunisians would undoubtedly be even more so.
Luckily, since the 18th century, due to European influence, the entire religious world of the Ottoman Empire and North Africa no longer shunned portraits, which allowed his plan to go smoothly.
As for whether Elder Aly would deny it?
Not to mention that his home was currently under martial law by the Police Affairs Department, preventing ordinary people from seeing him easily, even if he could get the message out, whether people would believe a word of mouth or an oil painting that looked as real as if the person was standing right in front of them was self-evident.
Unless Elder Aly could teleport to Tunis City and declare in public, “That painting is not true,” the “declaration of war” would be set in stone.
…
Soon, the whole of Tunis started to become restless under the call of the religious leader.
In the southern part of Bizerte, Andalusian.
More than a dozen members of the “Sword of Vengeance” organization, around their forties or fifties, were gathered in a dimly lit hut. On the north wall hung an oil painting of Elder Aly, surrounded by a circle of religious paraphernalia.
They were a resistance group comprised of Berbers formed to fight against the Imperial Guard. Having a history of over a hundred years, however, after such a long period, they had lost all hope of expelling the Ottoman People, and the younger generation simply did not want to join, leaving the organization on the brink of dissolution.
It was at this time that the religious leader’s “declaration of war” came.
This oil painting helped them recruit more than 60 members within three days, all young and strong men in their twenties and thirties, a cause for ecstatic joy.
Zemir, the leader of “Sword of Vengeance,” finished the prayers with the high ranks of the organization and immediately looked towards the nearest big-bearded man:
“What does the Fawaz Tribe say?”
“Chief Hasani agrees to join us in attacking the town’s Imperial Guard. They take six-tenths of the loot,” the big-bearded man replied.
Zemir nodded. The Fawaz Tribe had many more people, at least capable of fielding over 400 warriors, while his own side only had about 150 men, so it was acceptable for the other side to take the larger share. Ah, no, “Sword of Vengeance” was not after those Gold Coins, they were purely to avenge the evil Imperial Guards!
But the big-bearded man continued:
“`
“But Chief Hasani said they only have a few scimitars, and the rest are machetes, worrying they won’t stand a chance against the Imperial Guard,”
he said referring to machetes as a type of farm tool used for slaughtering livestock and chopping through brush.
Although there are only about 200 Imperial Guards in the Andalusian towns, they possess dozens of guns. If it really comes to a fight, it’s hard to say who would win or lose.
Zemir couldn’t help but frown. “Sword of Vengeance” had been assassinating and kidnapping Imperial Guards for years, but they only managed to gather less than 12 matchlock guns, all old models that were practically useless in aiding their allies.
Another high-ranking member of the organization clenched his fists, grinding his teeth:
“What’s there to fear? I can lead the warriors to drown those evil enemies in a sea of blood!”
Zemir shook his head decidedly, just as a man with a big beard said:
“I heard that a Bey from Tunis City is willing to offer help to the warriors fighting to expel the Ottoman People.”
He leaned forward, his voice lowering:
“It’s said that he has many guns, even cannons. Perhaps we could go see him.”
Everyone in the room instantly brightened up.
…
Bizerte Port.
Zemir eyed the unremarkable building across the street from a distance, then cautiously led his men inside after instructing his subordinates to reconfirm there were no ambushes surrounding them.
This was the residence of the Bey who could provide them with weapons, information he had obtained from a French merchant.
The agent from the Police Affairs Department, disguised as Zaganos Bey, named Isaac, received them.
In less than an hour, Zemir emerged from the old house beaming with joy. Just now, Zaganos Bey had only asked them to agree to the concept of “Roman origins”—he had previously read the pamphlet and had no objections to acknowledging their identity as Roman Descendants—after which Zaganos Bey promised to hand over a full 100 flintlock guns to him!
Moreover, these weapons would be directly transported to Andalusian.
He felt dizzy, pinching his arm three times to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. With these weapons, he was confident of sweeping through the Imperial Guards in the town!
And then to plunder all the luxurious mansions of the Ottoman People one by one!
After Zemir and his men left, Isaac immediately instructed his subordinates to head to Andalusian to confirm the true identities of these individuals.
“Sword of Vengeance” was a well-known anti-Imperial Guard organization in Tunisia, so Isaac allocated more weapons to them, hoping they would live up to the expectations. The guns, of course, were those previously seized from pirates and the Imperial Guard, thousands in number, and he didn’t mind giving them away at all.
Meanwhile, Zemir returned to his base and quickly made contact with Zaganos Bey’s men, and five days later they unloaded the shipment of guns from a group of “Olive Merchants'” carts.
However, to his surprise, the Fawaz Tribe, although equipped with weapons, suddenly got cold feet, stating they needed to properly prepare for a while longer before attacking the Imperial Guard.
Similar situations unfolded across Tunisia.
The natives eyed the Imperial Guard with hostility, and large quantities of weapons were distributed to them through Agadon and the Chamber of Commerce. But because everyone harbored a deep fear of the Imperial Guard, no one dared to make the first move.
In Tunis City.
Joseph listened to Isaac’s report with a frown, and couldn’t help but think of the plot in “Let the Bullets Fly”—Zhang Mazi raised his arm and shouted “With the gun, follow me,” but the people of Goose Town only dared to peek out from their homes, too afraid to challenge Huang Silang’s fortress, even with guns in their hands.
He truly didn’t expect the Tunisians to be this timid.
He got up irritably and paced back and forth in the room several times, reflecting on how even the religious leaders called to action couldn’t stir their courage.
Did they really need their savior to appear before they dared to make a move?
Hmm? Wait a minute!
Joseph suddenly had an epiphany at that point, Right, that’s exactly what to do!
“`