NOVEL NEXT Chapter 8
* * *
“Ludendorff, you bastard! You’re ruining the war!”
Damn the military for messing up the war. How can the royal family bear the full brunt of this responsibility?
Even the despicable Bolsheviks, after vomiting up land due to the Brest-Litovsk Treaty, are pushing the Reds to incite a revolution, aren’t they?
That massive empire is turning red overnight, and I can just see it spilling out into Germany.
Shouldn’t I be preparing for exile?
No, wait. Shouldn’t we catch those Reds first?
Kaiser Wilhelm II busied himself blaming Erich Ludendorff, who currently oversaw the military, without ever considering the mess he had made himself.
And what about the current situation in Russia?
“They say the Princess is left alone, crying for vengeance.”
“The Entente’s movements are also strange.”
Even if they believe they have the upper hand, the Entente hasn’t been able to advance properly into German territory yet.
How can they be so quiet in such a situation?
Only after the horrendous deaths of distant relatives like Tsar Nicholas II’s family, brought about by the tide of defeat and the Russian Revolution, did Kaiser Wilhelm II start to think clearly.
As if to make up for his previous diplomatic failures, Wilhelm II’s mind began to race with ideas.
Germany’s economy is already at its limit.
All thanks to that damn Ludendorff’s total war strategy.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain the war.
“Well, they must be relaxing now that they think they have the upper hand. Let’s start producing tanks and strike back!”
The crazy military keeps rambling on.
If they’re looking to die, let them.
Wilhelm II hated the idea of dying more than anything.
“Why not calm down and instead negotiate a peace with them?”
“Pardon?”
The French will be foaming at the mouth for revenge, and the Yanks from the US will just bow their heads and manipulate things to head back to the New World.
Japan? Those yellow-skinned folks will be satisfied with just nibbling on Germany’s Kiautschou (Qingdao) and a couple of islands.
“Britain is also a monarchical state like ours. Their silence likely indicates that they have a Bolshevik problem at home, much like us. How about we approach them to support the Princess in the Russian Civil War?”
Kaiser Wilhelm II contemplated granting full independence to the puppet states formed through treaties with the Bolsheviks. Alternatively, he thought of negotiating with the British to return everything to the state prior to the Brest-Litovsk Treaty.
In a situation where defeat loomed near, the rampaging military felt uneasy about ignoring the Kaiser’s proposal.
While it was uncertain whether the Kaizer’s plan would succeed, it didn’t seem likely. The Austro-Hungarian Empire was on the brink of collapse, and the German Empire was isolated.
Just a few months later in real history, the German Empire sought to approach the warring British Empire.
* * *
Bang!
A gunshot pierced the clear sky.
At that sound, a red wave crashed down.
To attack Yekaterinburg.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The bombs dropped by the Bolsheviks fell towards our trenches.
Their accuracy wasn’t great.
If the hit rate was bad, they should at least calculate their positions. But those fools just mindlessly fired shells without a thought.
After a while of bombarding, the infantry of the Red Army finally poured in.
“Smash all the reactionaries who still cling to the nostalgia of the past!”
It seems Lenin is quite desperate.
He’s sending his Red Army this way no matter what.
There must be quite a few former imperial troops among them.
Troops who turned their backs on the Tsar and joined the enemy.
Once the subjects of the Tsar have come to kill the Tsar’s daughter.
Maybe they were stirred by the sight of the Reds hanging their comrades on crosses outside the city. For us, it’s a fortunate turn of events.
The more they rush, the more public sentiment will turn against them.
Just when would the war end? Laborers were starting to stand up, and now there’s war again.
They’re sending troops to attack me, huddled up in Yekaterinburg.
It’s only natural to be filled with complaints. A workers’ country that claimed there would be no more war, and yet has begun a civil war.
If there’s ever been a culprit, it’s Lenin, and the one pulling the strings is Princess Anastasia.
With this, the Bolsheviks simply become a group of authoritarian Satanists wanting to seize power.
Still, it’s better this way.
Defense is certainly preferable to attack.
As much as I kill here, the number of Reds will dwindle.
“Princess, please step back.”
General Gaida seems to worry that I might get killed.
But that’s not going to happen.
Here, I have to desperately try to regain the trust of the royal family, standing in for the negligent Nicholas II, who has utterly ruined things.
“This battle is caused by me. I cannot withdraw.”
Not just General Gaida, but I also aimed at the Reds charging at us, despite the pleas of the volunteer soldiers who gathered in the city.
This gun is truly terrible.
Having to use such a blunt weapon like the Mosin-Nagant in the body of Anastasia.
People even say the Japanese rifles were better during the Russo-Japanese War, so what more can I say?
“At least it’s reassuring that the Czechoslovak Legion is on our side.”
This is certainly not an unfavorable situation for us.
The infamous Czechoslovak Legion is here.
Just hunkering down and defending should be enough to handle the enemy.
I get Lenin’s reasoning.
If they don’t capture me by whatever means here, the specter of the empire they destroyed will reappear, and the civil war will become all the more difficult.
If the civil war prolongs, the side at a disadvantage will rally the workers with all sorts of sweet words to establish a Red government.
So I grit my teeth and endure.
Holding the double-headed eagle flag of the Russian Empire high.
I notice a Red soldier closing in on me.
Good. They should approach like that.
I’m grateful that my world isn’t a peaceful one, but a chaotic one.
Bang! Bang!
The bullets I fire hit the chest of a Bolshevik.
“Gack!”
The bullet I shot pierced through the Red’s chest.
Seeing someone die and feeling detached from it confirms that I’ve become quite accustomed to these circumstances.
Red forces are pouring into the trench line.
Among them are imperial soldiers, but I can definitely say that the majority are conscripted enemies.
Do they really think the newly conscripted enemy forces can beat me and the Czechoslovak Legion in this hell of trench warfare?
Even if I might have set an intimidating stance, capturing Yekaterinburg is no easy feat.
There are veteran imperial soldiers who fought in World War I here.
Along with the Czech Legion putting pressure on the enemy, we’re simply focused on defense.
“The ones contaminated by the Red plague, grant death as liberation to the enemy!”
“Liberation!”
Things feel odd on this side too.
I’m leading, but given the difficulty of the times, a fanatical element is necessary.
As a result, the Bolsheviks become the devils. The Red plague becomes treated like an epidemic.
The last remaining Princess is even being targeted for death by these cruel and savage beings, scrounged up like cockroaches from Yekaterinburg’s meager population.
With things falling perfectly into place, the defenders in Yekaterinburg view the enemy much like zombies.
Bang! Bang!
Occasionally bullets fly over here, but I’m not worried.
I must have been granted some cheat-like ability like those dropped into another world, as I’m likely not to die anytime soon.
The enemy forces stammered.
The bravery of the volunteer forces and the thousands strong defense of the Czech Legion could not be breached by the famed Red Army.
Of course.
“Die!”
Our trenches came under threat from time to time.
Just like now, as one Red bastard bursts into the trenches.
From the looks of him, he hasn’t even shed his youthful appearance yet.
The bayonet on my Mosin-Nagant was sharply swung at me.
Kiiing!
I barely defended using the Mosin-Nagant.
It felt heavy.
As the Mosin-Nagant rang dull against the strikes, a jolt coursed through my body.
After all, it seems I can’t win against a poor, starving peasant soldier with the strength of a seventeen-year-old girl.
But I squeezed out every last ounce of strength and pushed him aside.
Fortunately, this fool seems like he hasn’t properly been trained and was easily brushed off.
Touch and go.
This punk is a conscripted soldier.
Just a poor soldier being stirred up by propaganda.
Perhaps with a little persuasion, this guy might toss aside his Red jacket and join the White Army.
But even if so, our situation is quite dire.
The Yekaterinburg battle holds great significance.
Here in Yekaterinburg, where the Princess serves as the commander, I am blocking the regular forces of the Bolsheviks.
Simply repelling the Red Army would surely make the White Army see me as a new symbol, causing the hesitant warlords to decide in favor of action.
Yes. This battle is my debut.
I must achieve victory in this defense and turn Yekaterinburg into the White Army’s center.
So there’s no time for leisurely persuasion.
“Don’t blame me.”
Not expecting to be pushed back by a girl, the young soldier’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to say something, only to be pierced through the heart by my bayonet.
Fwok!
The sensation of stabbing flesh surged as the young man’s eyes went wide before he lost consciousness.
I doubt these dead young men were of a high troop level.
Since it’s still the early stages of the civil war, the enemy’s organization isn’t well established, and those fellow named officers or generals within the Russian Empire aren’t cooperating yet.
Moreover, as long as I hold my ground, Imperial soldiers will be less likely to collude with the enemy than in the original history.
Thus, there was no way for those enemies to cross this space.
Setting aside the luck of soldiers that have jumped into our trenches, few Bolsheviks had the capacity to come over easily.
Bang! Bang!
Furthermore, I’m at the forefront, firing my gun.
Not like Nicholas II who made a fool of himself on the front lines, but protecting this place by capturing these once-vassal Bolsheviks with my gun.
To protect the loyal subjects of Yekaterinburg.
Dudududududud!
Each time the machine guns of the Czechoslovak Legion fire, the once-cockroach-like enemy soldiers fall, their blood and flesh spilling as they collapse.
A scene of blood and slaughter.
Corpses that drive a man mad. In that sea of blood, I wielded the unwieldy Mosin-Nagant and stabbed my enemies, firing bullets.
Once, as I slashed the throat of a Bolshevik jumping into the trench with the bayonet, it gushed blood like a fountain, splattering my face and body.
“B-Bloody Princess!”
In this chaotic slaughter, perhaps one of the Bolsheviks recognized my face. Seeing my blood-soaked appearance, he shouted.
Hey, you idiot. If you say that, it makes me sound like one of your Bolsheviks.
I put a bullet hole through that guy’s forehead.
“The term ‘bloody’ only applies to filthy Bolsheviks like you. I refuse to be on the same level as you Reds.”
After capturing a few people, my senses from my past life returned.
To survive, I’d fought tooth and nail for even a scrap of food, living day to day while constantly on guard against being robbed.
Recalling those memories, I maneuvered this girl’s light body freely.
I truly craved a cigarette.
Princess Anastasia was a smoker. An enthusiast of the dangers of smoking, she took drags from her father’s cigarettes, oblivious to their risks.
Perhaps because it’s from that Anastasia’s body, something about it feels particularly enticing.
Yeah. These kinds of things are a luxury here.
Moistening my parched mouth with saliva, I pulled the trigger of the Mosin-Nagant again.
Bang!
What lay before me were merely cockroaches.
Not human.
Somewhere between zombies pretending to be human and cockroaches.
I slaughtered them with abandon.
“Gaaaah!”
“Goooh!”
The Reds, the cockroaches, lose their strength and collapse onto the ground.
Despite still being inferior to modern firearms, since I’ve been trained here, my body naturally developed for this.
Countless red waves pressed against our fortified defenses, but I kept fighting calmly, blocking the enemies.
“You infected by the Red plague, death is your liberation!”
“Liberation!”
This side also exhibited signs of strain.
While I took the lead, as this is a difficult time, a degree of fanaticism was necessary.
Thus, the Bolsheviks became devils. The Red plague outright treated as an epidemic.
Even the last remaining princess is targeted for death by these cruel and savage beings, scrounged up like cockroaches from barely-send-off Yekaterinburg’s meager population.
When everything clicked together, the defenders in Yekaterinburg treated the enemy as if they were truly zombies.
Bang! Bang!
Occasionally bullets came flying towards us, but I had nothing to fear.
Maybe it’s because some old-timer granted me cheat abilities, but I seem unlikely to die anytime soon.
The enemy stumbled.
The volunteer forces’ resolve and the Czech Legion’s army defense were enough to drive the infamous Red Army out.
Of course.
“Die!”
There were times when the trenches were occasionally threatened.
Just like right now, as one Red bastard charges into the trench warfare.
Judging by their appearance, they seem fresh from their youth.
The bayonet stuck to my Mosin-Nagant is swung fiercely before me.
Kiiing!
I barely managed to block with my own Mosin-Nagant.
It’s heavy.
As a dull sound rang from the Mosin-Nagant, a jolt surged through my body.
It seems a seventeen-year-old girl can’t hope to defeat a poor, starving peasant soldier.
Still, I squeezed out every ounce of remaining strength and shoved him aside.
Fortunately, this fool seems to have not received any proper training and was easily brushed off.
Touch and go.
This punk is a conscripted soldier.
Just a poor soldier being led to slaughter.
With a bit of persuasion, this fellow might just throw away his Red coat and join the White Army.
But still, our needs are pressing too.
What this siege of Yekaterinburg means is extraordinary.
In this Yekaterinburg where the Princess serves as the commander, I am blocking the regular army of the Bolsheviks.
By just warding off the Red Army, the White Army will see me as a new symbol, leading the warlords who were hesitating to decide in favor of me.
Yes. This battle is my debut.
By achieving victory in this defense and establishing Yekaterinburg as a White Army stronghold, I will secure my position.
So, there is no time for leisurely persuasion.
“Don’t blame me.”
Not expecting to be pushed back by a girl, the young soldier’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to say something and was pierced through the heart by my bayonet.
Fwok!
The sensation of stabbing flesh surged as the young man’s eyes went wide before he lost consciousness.
I doubt these dead young men were of a high troop level.
It’s still the early days of the civil war, and the enemy’s organization isn’t established well, with no cooperation from named officers or generals within the Russian Empire just yet.
Moreover, as long as I stand firm, imperial soldiers will be less likely to collude with the enemy than in the real history.
Thus, there is no way for the enemy to cross this point.
Aside from the lucky few soldiers that jumped into our trench, there are few Bolsheviks with the capacity to cross over easily.
Bang! Bang!
Furthermore, I’m on the very front lines, firing my own weapon.
Not like Nicholas II who made a fool of himself on the front lines, but defending this location by capturing Bolsheviks who were once my subjects with my own gun.
To protect the loyal citizens of Yekaterinburg.
Dudududududud!
As the machine guns of the Czechoslovak Legion fired, the gathered enemy soldiers, once like cockroaches, fell, blood and flesh spilling as they collapsed.
A scene of bloodshed and slaughter.
Corpses that drive a man mad. In that sea of blood, I wielded the unwieldy Mosin-Nagant and stabbed my enemies, firing bullets.
Once, as I slashed the throat of a Bolshevik jumping into the trench with the bayonet, it gushed blood like a fountain, drenching my face and body with it.
“B-Bloody Princess!”
In this chaotic slaughter, perhaps one of the Bolsheviks recognized my face. Seeing my blood-soaked appearance, he yelled.
Hey, you bastard. Don’t say that, or it makes me sound like a Bolshevik.
I shot a bullet straight through that guy’s forehead.
“‘Bloody’ is a term only fit for you scumbag Bolsheviks. I refuse to be on the same level as you Reds.”
After capturing a few people, my senses from my previous life returned.
To survive, I’d fought tooth and nail for even a scrap of food, living day to day while constantly on guard against being robbed.
Recalling those memories, I maneuvered this girl’s light body freely.
I truly craved a cigarette.
Princess Anastasia was a smoker. An enthusiast of the dangers of smoking, she took drags from her father’s cigarettes, oblivious to their risks.
Perhaps because it’s from that Anastasia’s body, something about it feels particularly enticing.
Yeah. These kinds of things are a luxury here.
Moistening my parched mouth with saliva, I pulled the trigger of the Mosin-Nagant again.
Bang!
What lay before me were merely cockroaches.
Not human.
Somewhere between zombies pretending to be human and cockroaches.
I slaughtered them with abandon.
“Gaaaah!”
“Goooh!”
The Reds, the cockroaches, lose their energy and collapse to the ground.
Even if still inferior to modern firearms, I had been trained here, and my body had naturally adapted to this style of combat.
Countless red waves pressed against our fortified defenses, but I kept fighting calmly, blocking the enemies.
“Our young princess fights so valiantly!”
“We can’t just stand by. Let’s kill as many of those Bolsheviks as we can!”
The few Cossack troops that joined in also trampled the red cockroaches.
Despite all the fierce fighting, the tide of the red waves noticeably dwindled.
“Comrades! Are you thinking of running away when those reactionaries are right in front of you? The first coward to flee will get a bullet from my gun!”
“I-I don’t want to fight anymore!”
“Save me! I came here because I thought it would be easy!”
“This was supposed to be a reactionary suppression! This is war!”
Indeed, the fundamentally flawed Reds began to bluster out Russian curses among themselves, taking frantic action.
At least we’re in a position to defend, so it’s hard to know their numbers, but they’re in an attacking situation, leading to their casualties.
When I see a fellow soldier next to me getting beaten to a pulp like a meat rag, it’s evident that the untrained conscripts are in a lot of trouble.
“Damn it! Retreat!”
After a while of beating them down and confirming nothing was getting through, the Bolsheviks finally retreated.
Just like the ebb and flow of the tides, they fled in an instant to save their own skins.
Some were even crawling away.
“““Long live Princess Anastasia! Long live the Russian Empire!”””
The sweetness of victory, the thrill penetrated my body as the reality of having driven back the Bolsheviks settled in.
I exhaled a sigh of relief as I stroked my chest.
I survived in this hellhole.
I clenched my trembling hands.
There’s still a long way to go, but I’ve won nonetheless.
At that moment, an officer from the Czechoslovak Legion rushed over, glancing at my soaked figure in blood and looking momentarily startled before opening his mouth.
“Princess, an army has been detected from the east.”
“Are they waving a red flag?”
“No, it’s the tricolor flag of the Russian Empire with the double-headed eagle emblazoned on it.”
As expected, the Reds retreated for that reason.
The tricolor from the east.
It must be the White Army.
Finally, they sent the Czechoslovak Legion, which led to this result.
I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.