Chapter 995 - 218: The Never-Fallen Stronghold

Chapter 995: Chapter 218: The Never-Fallen Stronghold

"The loyalty of the Guard Corps is beyond question; I will not defy orders just for my reputation."

The Captain hurriedly pressed down on the commander’s hand, which was on the gun holster: "Commander, have you wondered why the local police aren’t shooting, and instead have you do this dirty work? By all means, use all force when necessary, but what’s ’necessary’? What’s ’all force’? These women haven’t stormed the police station, nor seized weapons; they’ve merely smashed a few bakeries. Does that warrant gunfire?"

Even if persuasion fails, you can emulate the police and disperse the crowd using blunt weapons!

"Give me a chance, let me convince these women to leave!"

Molotov hesitated for a moment, then took out his gilded pocket watch to check the time.

"You have ten minutes."

The Captain wasted no time and dashed out; having practiced the exclusive breathing technique of the Guard Corps, he moved with the agility of a lynx.

This is what makes the Guard Corps far superior to regular garrisons.

Every month, they receive special magic potions from the military department, combined with their unique Knight’s Breathing Technique, their combat prowess is extraordinary.

Of course, this combat prowess is mainly supported by the magic potions. Once these Imperial Guards retire and lose the potion supply, they’ll soon become mediocre, ensuring that the breathing technique, even if leaked, remains harmless.

Mashilov took only a minute to push a cart abandoned by the roadside and blocked the path of the parade.

He stood on it and shouted loudly, "Ladies, I am Captain Mashilov of the Grenadier Guard Corps, ahead is the Winter Palace. If you continue, it will be tantamount to rebellious treason.

Ladies, consider your children even if you don’t think of yourselves. In days like these, without a mother’s care, who can survive this harsh winter?"

A commotion arose in the crowd, as a woman wrapped in a tattered army coat shouted, "Our men died on the front lines, all that can be burned has been thrown into the fire, do we have any way to live if we return now?"

"Tsar’s minions, you try to threaten us with death, don’t you know we have no way to live anymore?"

"We want bread, not war!"

"We want truth, not lies!"

Seeing the agitated crowd, Mashilov’s forehead broke out in cold sweat: "Just endure a little longer, the war is nearing its end. You’ve held on for these long three years, why fall in the final darkness before dawn?"

"Lies!"

"Liar!"

"’The war is nearing its end,’ how many times have I heard that crap? The Tsar must immediately withdraw from all wars!"

Mashilov wiped his sweat, shouting: "This time it’s really not a lie, we’re truly about to win. Please consider the honor of your husbands, they are now heroes that died gloriously, epitomes of Russia’s soldiers. If you continue, their hard-earned honor will be replaced by rebels!"

"Can honor bring bread? Can honor keep his wife and children from starving or freezing to death?"

"Sir, do you know my Seryosha, a child I raised with twenty years of painstaking effort? He died within a week on the battlefield. The only consolation is a meager pension that can’t feed a person, and every time I claim it, I suffer deduction by petty officials acting like ruffians; the promised ration supply requires lining up for three hours in the dead of winter, praying to God for luck."

With reddened eyes, the woman vented her fury: "My second son is reaching adulthood only to be dragged into reserve camps, lined up to die on the front line; my daughter froze to death in her cradle. If you think such humiliation and pain are what a mother who works sixteen hours a day to feed her child deserves, or what a heroic father who died for the country deserves, then go ahead, shoot!"

Mashilov was overwhelmed by the women’s enraged accusations, opening his mouth repeatedly to no avail, as no one listened to him anymore.

Since the march began, a long time had passed; the police did try persuasion, even highly respected priests were brought out to reason and appeal with emotion. If there had been effective results, the Grenadier Guard Corps wouldn’t have been summoned.

BANG!

Molotov fired.

The shot was fired into the sky.

He approached Mashilov, speaking in a slightly stiff tone: "The military department is aware of your demands; officials who deducted the pensions will be severely punished, and your families will receive the due compensation tonight. I swear by the honor of my family and the honor of the Grenadier Guard Corps!"

Amidst a stir, a woman with two braids shouted loudly, "Will the Tsar exit the war? When will our men come home?"

Mashilov hurriedly turned to look at Molotov, signaling incessantly.

He knew that Molotov, who always upheld honor, would never make false promises beyond his capability, even if sanctioning corrupt officials and rectifying deducted pensions required this Boye noble’s family to go all out.

But now is not the time to uphold your damn Boye noble principles!

Molotov fell into silence, and Mashilov seized the moment while the other was quiet, shouting loudly, "He will, definitely! By spring at the latest, the war will be over, the Allies can no longer hold on!"

The woman with braided hair suddenly sneered, "Still lying! How can you not know that we suffered a major defeat in the Polish Region? You think by blocking the news, you can deceive these poor widows?"

Mashilov felt dizzy; how could these people know?

"Liars, we can’t trust these Tsar’s minions!"

"Soldiers over there, look at us women. This is what your mothers and wives will become if you go to the battlefield!"

Suddenly, someone recognized a soldier in the line and shouted, "Petro, yesterday when your mother went to the church to pray, the noble lords drove her out, saying commoners aren’t fit to share a church with them. Now, do you intend to point your gun at your townsfolk to protect these noble lords?"

The soldiers started to stir.

The Second Guard Infantry Division had also rotated to the Eastern Front before, with three Grenadier companies from the Grenadier Guard Corps. Although most were from rural areas, many were locals, and no one could say for sure if some of their former comrades’ widows had joined the parade.

For a moment, these well-trained soldiers, nearly all able to wear the infantry armor, began to waver.

Mashilov looked at his regiment commander, only to find him slowly drawing his pistol from its holster, eyes wide open with horror.

Bang—

He fired.

A burst of blood bloomed on a woman’s chest.

The sound of gunfire, like cracking beans, rang out, and as Mashilov shouted desperately to stop, dozens of women had already fallen under the muzzles.

Some soldiers stood frozen, incredulous at their comrades.

"Damn it, I’m done!"

"You killed my aunt!"

"It was the commander’s order!"

...

Putilov Factory.

After an intense confrontation among the upper echelons last night, the Tsar finally chose to compromise, expelling the Demon Monk Rasputin from Saint Petersburg, sending him back to his Mage Tower three hundred miles away.

The military finally brought out its hidden Power, ready to quickly obliterate this source of chaos.

As the situation had deteriorated far beyond the military’s expectations, bullets and blood indeed temporarily halted people’s advance, but at the cost of many garrisoned troops refusing to execute military orders.

Secret connections among people became more frequent, and Saint Petersburg felt like a forcibly suppressed volcano, with no one knowing when it might erupt.

The Don River Cossacks handed over the camp to the newly arrived Second Guard Division.

Looking at the Land Cruiser’s dark cannon muzzles, and the Armored Infantry clad in full-body Power Armor.

Tenishev thought that it might not take half a day before these rebels’ faint sparks would be extinguished.

The quartermaster asked in confusion, "Captain, what’s the new order?"

Tenishev smiled bitterly, "What else could it be?"

The Cossacks’ old business.

...

The battle lasted an entire day.

Until dusk, the relentless sound of gunfire and cannon blasts continued from the factory.

This was beyond everyone’s expectations.

Those who confidently asserted that the insurgents could not fight against the Tsar’s army had their faces turned red, only managing to assert, "Just wait, at the latest by tomorrow, they will certainly be wiped out."

The people supporting the insurgents prayed silently.

The only still-fighting force, the Putilov Factory insurgents, had evidently become the banner in the hearts of Saint Petersburg’s populace, declaring to the people, "The Tsar is not invincible, and the poor are not powerless."

"What on earth is going on?"

Faced with the military’s questioning, the Major General of the Second Guard Division was even angrier than them, "The intelligence you provided is completely wrong; the enemy has at least thirty Casters. Where did all these people come from?"

A day of intense battle had caused casualties in the Second Guard Division almost comparable to a frontal assault on the Debang people’s positions.

"Thirty Casters?"

The military staff were stunned.