【Sumia War Song】(Chapter 2) (02-04) Author: indainoyakou

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Author: indainoyakou
Word Count: 26599
Chapter Two "The Kiev Incident" #2
Holy Russian Empire, Capital? Moscow.
In response to the heavily fortified Southern Army in Volgograd, the Central Army's St. Petersburg division, with 150,000 troops,
moved south, forming a fan-shaped formation centered on Moscow and facing due south. Rumors of a Southern Army rebellion spread rapidly in the capital.
The Kremlin did not respond, but St. Petersburg immediately issued a statement after Dean Irina's return
—confirming the hostility from Kiev.
However, the State Council did not elaborate on the basis of this supposed hostility or the source of the conflict
. The message conveyed to the various units of the Central Army was simply four words: the rebellion is confirmed.
But that was enough.
Once the fact of the Central Army's confrontation with the Southern Army was established, it was only a matter of time before the news spread to other countries, and
the entire international situation would be greatly altered.
Strangely... the internal strife within the country only created turmoil abroad, while domestically, things remained remarkably calm.
The standoff of over 300,000 Russian troops south of Moscow did nothing to affect the offensive
fronts led by the various princesses; the more than two million Russian troops continued their advance into Europe, West Asia, and Northeast Asia, and the expected
braking effect failed to materialize.
Even the faction of the Second Princess—Sumia—which simultaneously launched both internal and external wars, remained unchanged.
In the Balkans, in the Republic of Serbia,
General Helena's Royal Guard had defeated the vanguard forces composed of Italians and Greeks, driving British influence
out of Serbia. The elite Italian Lieta Mech Division lost all its mech units in the battle,
and the elite Greek 20th Mech Division also suffered devastating losses; although their main forces had completed their assembly
and entered Croatia and Macedonia, the Balkan nations were beginning to side with the victorious Russian
army.
A predominantly Serbian militia was formed in Ni?, a country in dire need of rebuilding, vowing to drive out all
Greek troops invading from the south.
However, in Hungary and Slovakia, due to a preemptive attack by Russian forces, this community decided to formally become 　　the front line of
the British United Front against the Russian Southern Army through the long-delayed joint defense agreement between Great Britain and NATO . 　　The Seventh Royal Territory? New Georgia. 　　General Rajasa's newly formed army did not immediately offer assistance to Armenia, 　　only crossing the border into Aragats Province when Turkish forces had dismantled Armenia's defenses and nearly occupied the entire country. 　　Supported by the Astrakhan Joint Missile Command, the Grozny missile base, and the Black Sea Fleet 　　, Russian forces quickly breached the Yamavir supply base held by the Turkish Fifth Army Corps in Anatolia. Turkish 　　reserve supply lines within the province subsequently fell, and Russian forces completely severed Anatolia's connection with the country. 　　The Second Royal Territory? Ukraine. 　　Lieutenant General Zoya's personal guard division awaited Her Highness the Princess's return in Kiev. Reserve units in the south, 　　including the First Astrakhan Army and the First Volgograd Army, also formed a defensive line with Kiev. These reserves, 　　while confronting the Central Army, had also accepted requests from allies 　　to bombard the Turkish forces ravaging Armenia from missile bases. 　　The morale of the Russian Southern Army did not wane despite its confrontation with the Central Army; on the contrary, it strengthened 　　its defenses in the Balkans and launched a devastating offensive within Armenia, inflicting heavy 　　losses on their adversaries—the British Allied forces. 　　Just as the Russian offensive intensified, a train departed from heavily guarded Moscow, heading towards 　　the direction of the artillery fire: Kiev. 　　That wasn't an innate talent, nor an intuition honed through long battles. 　　She and her sisters were able to stay on the right path at the right time simply because 　　the defense mechanism called "humanity" had a loophole—a 　　loophole large enough to be filled with rubles, pounds, or dollars. 　　They were an armed organization known as the "Black Widows," the brides of God. 　　All members, after joining, united as one, sharing the same will and common goals. 　　"Martyrs" was their name; "Shashtka" was what laypeople called them. They took 　　pride in being enemies of Christ, yet their beliefs no longer tolerated Islamic doctrine. 　　But they did not regret it. 　　Adhering to the scriptures and following the doctrines had resulted in crusades and destruction. 　　Therefore… there was no need to follow the rules anymore. 　　Whatever the name, as long as it could be transformed into spears and scimitars, whether the attackers were criminals or civilians, whether the means were prison breaks or 　　kidnapping, it didn't matter. 　　This was war. 　　Indiscriminate killing. 　　The hunters were Islamic fanatics. 　　Their target was the second princess who ruled southern Russia. 　　The deep-seated hatred between nations and races was reduced to a simple concept of imbalance—to survive, one must kill 　　the enemy on the throne and take their place—simple, clear, and beyond question. 　　Never…no one has ever stood on the side of justice. 　　And never…no one has ever upheld true faith. 　　Ibrahim— 　　"...Gah!" 　　The first scream came from her familiar second sister, followed by silent bullets flying swiftly through the darkness. 　　It wasn't the clarion call of war, but a signal lasting only half a second. 　　What followed wasn't police or the army, but an extremely dense net of sniper fire. 　　All aimed at her and her sisters above the heart. 　　Everything was solely for killing the assassins, completely disregarding the explosives they carried and the 　　consequences—clearly, the concept of a "chessboard" instantly surfaced in her collapsing mind. 　　Two more seconds, no more than three seconds, and the impacted explosives would detonate in quick succession. 　　What happened after that was none of their business... The only certainty was that 　　the elite of their Black Widow team were wiped out in an instant, and their glorious mission would be stigmatized and used as a convenient excuse by others.

The lackluster fireworks in the snowy night abruptly stopped a Moscow-Kiev train.
A verst ahead of the abruptly stopped train, a burning crater emitted thick smoke that rivaled the light snowfall.
A dozen or so women, clad in dark blue cloaks and armed with submachine guns, gathered near the crater. One of them, a
blonde girl with mottled skin, twitched her ear and fired
a burst of fire at the ground to her right rear, just as her companions had predicted—a slightly nervous reaction.
"Ivanova, you're here again. Is this how sensitive you are about missions involving the Second Princess?" She'd
lost her composure. Mistaking a dead body for a living target was a huge blunder. But then again, it seemed even less
blundering than preparing a greeting gift and vying to enter the Gorky Palace.
Her companion from the neighboring department—Toroska—watched the white smoke from the muzzle of her gun triumphantly, received
a defiant glare, and then turned to check the body. This kind of lapse 　　in composure
couldn't be resolved simply by being teased by her companions; it also involved a playful, burning sensation emanating from her lower body, and
the punishment lasted about fifteen to thirty minutes. So, the blonde girl—Fanoina—suppressed the punishment inflicted by her seniors and joined the rookies in their verification work. 　　The operation was handled quite efficiently; not a single person survived, meaning these juniors wouldn't have to 　　suffer punishment from their seniors for someone's mistake, or be caught off guard by a feigned death. 　　After confirming all the bodies and explosives, they began cleaning up the mess, leaving about 　　two body parts as instructed by their seniors, and packing the rest away. The entire cleanup took only fifteen minutes; it didn't 　　need to be too clean anyway, just enough for the reporters to take a few photos, and other units would handle the rest. Just as 　　everything was ready and they were about to wrap up, Toroska noticed that Ivanova, who had been obediently beside her until twenty seconds earlier, 　　had disappeared, and a figure was speeding away in the direction of the still snow-covered train. 　　"How should I put it..." 　　That figure...it was almost like a younger sister deliberately going to curry favor with her older sister, wasn't it? 　　While describing it as a deep sisterly bond was quite charming, Ivanova's silhouette somehow made her think of 　　something else entirely: "It's just a sister complex..." 　　Ivanova of the Ninth Armed Division was the second princess's half-sister, a fact 　　not uncommon in Russian armed divisions, much like Toroska of the Twenty-Second Armed Division was the seventh princess's half-sister. 　　However, these people, with their somewhat extraordinary family backgrounds, had long since severed 　　unnecessary ties under the Church's guidance and become the Patriarch's henchmen. In 　　her eyes, only little Ivanova could express such naked attachment to worldly matters. 　　For some reason, she felt a little envious...Thinking of how the seventh princess felt nothing at all, she 　　felt a strange mix of envy and a desire to experience Ivanova's straightforward yet clumsy behavior, a feeling she didn't regret but rather longed to experience 　　. 　　"Oh! Little Mary's wearing that girlish expression again, gazing longingly at her lover's back!" 　　A sudden, cold pinch startled Toroska, causing her to recoil. She was then 　　grabbed by another upperclassman who seemed to have nothing better to do. Left hand on her breast, right hand on her private parts—the upperclassman's sexual harassment, coupled with the earlier teasing remark 　　, instantly made Toroska's frozen face flush red. 　　"I-I don't like Ivanova!" 　　"Oh—we didn't say who you were looking at, so why did you say Faina?" 　　"Uh…! That's because…" She 　　'd lost her composure. Being tricked into revealing everything with just one sentence was a huge embarrassment. But then again, it 　　wasn't as embarrassing as the mission and the insistence on sharing a dorm room after training. 　　That was because she might actually still care about that girl. 　　Torroska, manipulated by her upperclassmen, gave up struggling and making excuses, allowing them 　　to grope and carry her into the jeep. The upperclassmen, knowing their junior had a crush, played the villains perfectly, 　　deliberately separating the two from each other's chances of sharing a car and a bed. 　　"Little Mary is mine today!" 　　"Haha! You're so mean! Does that mean I can only eat your Faina?" 　　"Eat her! I've already warmed you up; she'll be all warm and wet when we get back!" 　　"You perverted priest! Hahaha!" 　　Like most of her juniors, Toroska chose to submit to the incredibly skilled yet lewd upperclassmen 　　, figuring she could rise through the ranks from novice to upperclassman. But until then, 　　whether she received love or malice depended entirely on the whims of her upperclassmen. 　　And what about their senior classmates...? 　　"Alright, let's go!" 　　"P-Please wait a minute! Ivanova hasn't... Ah!" 　　Before Toroska could finish speaking, the hand that had slipped inside her cloak and trousers bent its fingers and burrowed into her dry private parts. 　　The pain, which she had already anticipated but was still greater than expected, made her painfully shut her mouth. The senior classmate in the front seat started the car and said, 　　"A girl who leaves the group without permission deserves to be killed on the spot. Punishing her by making her walk back tonight and not having a woman 　　to hug is already very lenient." 　　That makes sense... Pitiful as she may be, Ivanova's behavior is indeed unacceptable. And it's only 　　natural that she, who took it upon herself to try to defend her, was punished. 　　Even so, she was still worried about Ivanova… 　　Just as her body, skillfully trained by her seniors, was starting to get into the swing of things, they were already quite a distance from the scene of the incident. 　　Toroska's heart was still tied to the cute blonde girl with the scarred face. According to her 　　seniors, they were more adept at teasing her in this situation, and she herself felt that her moans, whether feigned or genuine, 　　were better than usual. 　　Along the way, amidst the cold wind and the warmth of their bodies, she repeatedly pondered the question of love and malice. Her reliable yet annoying, perverted 　　yet skilled seniors were truly unpredictable … 　　"Ah, I forgot to tell Faina that the Second Princess she longs for wasn't on that train… Oh well, she's 　　probably already heartbroken and on her way home." 　　"Hahaha! You're such a jerk, little Mary! Don't you dare bully Faina like that 　　!"

...No, I guess I still dislike her a little more.
Attacks on the princess weren't the first for the Imperial Household Department and the Princess's House, but the fact that it was reported was
a first.
The public didn't need complicated information; just knowing that the bombed railway was
the one running directly from Moscow to Kiev was enough. This simple, linear concept solidified the image of the Second Princess in everyone's minds. Coupled with
images of the princess's glamorous appearances at past military parades and clips from the Black Widow series of reports, this topic would
easily burn for a week to two weeks. Even with a little manipulation—like
linking the Black Widow to an enemy country—the princess, who commanded the Southern Army, would likely find it difficult to quell the domestic controversy.
As the princess who "almost got bombed on her way back to her territory" but was practically inseparable from the Gorky Palace
, Sumia could only describe this nightly news report as utterly baffling.
"Celia, what do you think?"
At the table where the maids were preparing teppanyaki dishes with a frilly flourish,
Sumia, draped in a beige floral bathrobe and waiting for dinner, glanced at Celia, who was drying her hair. Celia's
sky-blue hair was still damp, the scent of lavender shower gel wafting through the air. Celia, watching the television report, replied
, "Perhaps it's the Imperial Household Department's doing, or maybe they're trying to send some kind of message..."
"A message?"
"Yes, after all, this is the first time there's been a report of an assassination attempt on a member of the royal family. Given the Imperial Household Department's meticulousness,
such a low-level oversight is impossible."
"The question is, to whom or which group will it be shown?"
"Well..."
Just as Celia was deep in thought, the sizzling sound of the teppanyaki grill and the enticing aroma of beef
drew Sumia's attention back to the mouthwatering grill.
The only advantage of being under house arrest was probably being able to taste all sorts of delicious food.
However, her weight... sigh, it had increased by a full two kilograms since she entered the palace...
Despite her utter helplessness, Sumia swallowed the top-
grade Wagyu beef, its exquisite flavor lingering in her mouth, with tears in her eyes, followed by the incredibly fresh lobster sashimi...
Half an hour later, the two, well-fed, collapsed onto the bed, listening to
the news reports they weren't particularly interested in, muttering blissful confessions.
During this time, the significant change in their lifestyle also affected their behavior. Celia felt that her master
had become much more worldly, seemingly retaining only her original wildness in bed. Sumia, on the other hand, realized that
nothing she did here was of any use; she was completely isolated from the outside world and could only accept
her fate.
Every day consisted of confirming with the head maid, being turned away, and living a monotonous, vacation-like life.
Is this kind of life meant to wear down the master and servants' will, or is it simply a means for the powerful to fight amongst themselves...
? Without being able to glean any information from the maids, any speculation becomes meaningless.
Moreover, they can't contact Kiev either, and the situation is completely unknown. Although they can confidently entrust
everything to Zoya, imprisoning their own commander at the very beginning of the war seems a bit too confident on the part of their country.
Why would the Empress Dowager or the Imperial Council take such action at such a crucial moment
...? Could it be related to the heir to the throne?
If so, someone should have contacted her.
No... could they have already contacted her?
With the princess...?
"Celia, come here."
Hearing this, Celia, who was lazily lying at the foot of the bed, propped herself up and crawled towards her master's jade-like hand resting on her left thigh
, then slid it along the languid curve to the inside of her thigh. Beneath her bathrobe, the silver silk panties stirred restlessly.
She lightly touched the throbbing penis with the tip of her nose, then bit the edge of the panties, reaching behind her master to untie
the ropes binding him.
Gazing at the gradually growing penis, Celia knew her master was thinking, a
thought filled with passion and fervor. So she obeyed her master's will, taking the trembling shaft into her mouth and sucking it gently.
Celia occasionally thought that having her master all to herself wasn't so bad... but she wouldn't make any more
ridiculous wishes; being trapped in the Gorky Palace forever wouldn't be good.
Reports of the Second Princess's train being attacked spread rapidly throughout Russia,
reaching the mansion deep in the mountains of Siberia.
12:35 AM, the study.
The three division commanders of the reserve military district, Major General Hevnova, Major General Bakhta, and Major General Korkina, who had received the summons,
gathered here. After the initial pleasantries subsided, the Third Princess Annabelle
appeared, as always, dressed in a simple white robe.
"Your Highness,"
the three division commanders rose in unison. Annabelle, her hands in her robe pockets, quickly glanced at the three before
softly saying, "No need for formalities."
"Yes, sir."
"Five minutes. I need to continue my experiments. Who wants to go first?"
Hevnova nodded to the two beside her and went to face the person seated at the desk. Bakhta and Korkina
stood a step behind her on either side. As they met her master's gaze, Hevnova raised her slightly hoarse
voice and said, "The spies in St. Petersburg, coupled with the earlier loophole in news control, have led the Royal Guard to conclude that the State Council
has confirmed our mobilization. Therefore, Your Highness, please order us to attack."
Annabelle's expressionless face remained unmoved; she maintained her composed—or rather, indifferent
—attitude and nodded.
"Do you have a way to contend with your elder sister's Royal Guard?" "
We will suppress St. Petersburg before reinforcements from Kiev arrive. Bakhta and Korkina's forces will suppress
all State Council outposts and related institutions outside the southern region.
All of the above actions can be completed within seventy-two hours of your order."
"You must understand, without Her Majesty's order, the Central Army will not recognize our actions. If the operation fails
, we will be doomed."
"Regarding this..."
Hevnova paused deliberately, giving her master ample time to prepare, before frowning and saying, "The Imperial Guard
Division has taken over command of Yekaterinburg for you. The Tsar has ordered that in any event, she should be taken hostage..."
"Hevnova."
"Yes..."
"How did you fall into the Empress's trap?"
"Forgive my rudeness. We, the twenty-six division commanders, unanimously believe that the time is ripe, and you should take control of the capital
!"
"You..."
"You can ascend to the Tsar's throne or retain control of the Imperial Household Department; whichever move you make, you can control the entire
motherland!"
Seeing the resolute expressions on the three generals' faces, Annabelle sighed deeply.
"You've been by my side for so many years, how could you not know my utter loathing for power?"
"The Tsar knew you would say that, which is why he entrusted you with the harem possessing Nightmare technology. If you
truly do not wish to wield imperial power, we can still assist Princess Anna..."
Hevnova suddenly shivered, because of her master's expression... no... should it be the atmosphere?
The atmosphere emanating from that expressionless face wasn't the usual coldness that made people instinctively shut up, but
rather like the Tsar in his rage... filling Hevnova with a terrifying sense of impending doom.
"Dare to touch my daughter, even you..."
The study door suddenly flung open, and a group of knights armed with assault rifles and submachine guns rushed into the room,
surrounding Hevnova and two generals. The knight commander—Armenia, her face flushed but unusually calm—walked
in, pointing her ornate sword directly at Hevnova.
Annabelle's uncontrollable rage was hidden beneath her expressionless, stiff face as she silently watched
the generals, whose lives hung in the balance, remaining unmoved. Finally, she let out a deep sigh onto the cold table.
Ah… she hadn't expected even her closest confidantes to be caught in a loophole created by the Queen Mother.
She believed that before long, even without action, news of the Third Princess taking over Yekaterinburg would
spread like wildfire.
Since she was destined to be pushed onto the battlefield against the Imperial Council and the Southern Army, the only difference was whether the Queen
Mother or she herself would begin the conflict.
…No, there was no difference.
Even if she resented the utterly tedious power games, she would never allow little Anna to be captured and used as her
substitute—the Queen Mother must have known this weakness, which was why she had exploited the loophole called the generals.
Therefore, there was no need to waste any more time dwelling on it.
"I'm sorry, Master... You should go to Miss Zosada's place."
Armenia's voice came. Annabelle made a minor mental note about the matter and ordered
the Knights to lay down their weapons, heading towards the only remaining armed Knight Commander.
"Hevnova, you are authorized to attack the Imperial Council's outposts in Siberia and the Far East."
"Yes...!"
"Bakhta and Korkina, don't disappoint me."
"Yes, sir!"
"Armenia, let's go."
"Yes, Master."
The corridor flickered with the faint light of fire in the dead of night. Annabelle, escorted by the Knights, headed towards the underground research
institute.
Under the moonlight, on the path to dreams, the Third Princess made a small decision.
Like a tiny silver ring, a tiny obsidian...
I will play a dirge for you.
In this world where you are.
Chapter Two "The Kiev Incident" #3
Holy Russian Empire, Omsk Oblast, Omsk.
Like a cacophony of flames raging across the front lines, a deafening
roar of fury echoed from this distant rear.
Snow blanketed the city streets in a white mist, and tanks, which should have been on the front lines, rolled into
the city one after another.
The attackers were three mechanized battalions of the 132nd Division of the Tsarist Police Force.
The repelling force was the Mechanized Training Brigade of the Novosibirsk Military Academy of the Imperial State Council.
On the orders of the Third Tsarina, Major General Khvorova's Guard Division and Major General Korkina's Division
launched a four-pronged attack in the dead of night, heading towards key Imperial State Council institutions in Siberia.
Major General Bakhta's troops also advanced into the Far East, coordinating with the Guard Division's offensive to launch a full-scale attack on the Imperial State Council's
forces in eastern Russia.
In front of the Omsk Regional Government building, a student-led combat training unit was setting up
a defensive perimeter around the building, attempting to hold off "enemy troops" rapidly approaching from 2.5 versts away.
The situation was crystal clear from the start, leaving no room for ambiguity.
The enemy was the regular army of the Russian Reserve Military District—
the Third Imperial Princess's direct forces. "
And our side is...
"Now! It's time to show the results of your training, you bunch of rookies! Let
those traitors who dare to challenge us, the Imperial Council, taste the might of the Novosibirsk Reserve Force!"
"Imperial Council Novosibirsk 1005th Sniper Regiment! Ready!"
"Imperial Council Novosibirsk 1275th Mech Squadron! Ready!"
"Imperial Council Novosibirsk Combat Training Corps! Ready!" "
Imperial Council! Novosibirsk 2007th Infantry Squadron! 2009th Infantry Squadron! Ready!"
"By the glory of the double eagle flag! Victory will surely belong to us!" "
Woohoo! woohoo! woohoo! woohoo! woohoo! woohoo!"
Even facing the overwhelming force of the regular mech squadron, the students, still in their trainee status, were still
eager to fight. And on the silver-white road, only 1.8 versts from the local area, the mech squadron, spearheaded by the armored vehicle convoy,
was also filled with fighting spirit.
"Kanalia Tank Unit! We'll break through the enemy's formidable defenses!"
"Pasavna Mechanized Infantry Brigade, 2nd Regiment! Prepare to crush the useless enemy!"
"Sharona Mechanized Infantry Company! Show us our elite strength! Sweep them away completely!"
"The tenacious 132nd Division! Let us defeat the lackeys of St. Petersburg!"
"The glorious 132nd Division! Fighting for the noble Princess!"
"In the name of Her Highness the Princess! Great Russia!"
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"
A fierce battle erupted at 5:00 AM in the square in front of the state government building.
At the very first clash, the elite troops of the 132nd Division broke through the defenses of the 2007th Infantry Company. The Kanaria
armored vehicle convoy poured in through the gap in the line, disrupting the infantry positions and heading straight for the mech company in the rear.
The artillery regiment, hidden among the infantry, seized the opportunity to counterattack. Although they managed to destroy four tanks in the enemy vanguard, they couldn't stop
the widening breach.
On the front lines, where enemy and friendly forces were mixed, the 2007th Infantry Company, with its ever-shrinking defensive area, was gradually sinking
into despair.
"Captain Bumek! It's no good! All communication points on the right flank have been lost, they're likely already... ugh!"
"Don't stand up! Cease observation! Enemy snipers are hiding behind tanks! Notify the mech squadron to
fire on our position!"
"Yes, yes...!"
"Lieutenant Molly! Full retreat! We're abandoning this place!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Less than ten minutes into the battle, the commander was killed, the right flank was wiped out, and the main force and left flank were decimated.
Captain Bumek, temporarily acting as the squadron commander, had no choice but to order a
retreat before being destroyed by the enemy. The makeshift fortifications the squadron was holding were no match for the dense tank and artillery fire, and the artillerymen lying in ambush behind them
were destroyed after being exposed. At this point, it was completely impossible to maintain the defensive line.
A stark contrast to the pre-battle fervor of certain victory spread through the hearts of every student.
The terror of being mowed down by a mech squadron on their very first engagement had left an indelible mark on their minds. The order to retreat spurred no
courage whatsoever, and the surviving squads scattered and attempted to break through.
However, the real obstacle was not the enemy vanguard that had penetrated their lines, but the tank convoy that was pursuing them from the front. The
crumbling central front was utterly ravaged, and the expected covering fire failed to
materialize. The unscathed tank convoy relentlessly slaughtered the fleeing squads.
Captain Bumek's squad was also being hunted down, with snipers arriving in tanks relentlessly whittling down their
remaining strength. When they finally emerged from the thick smoke and flames, covered in blood, and reached
the flank of the state government's defenses, they were met with yet another scene of utter despair.
The mech squadron had already retreated… and was being pursued by a mere ten tanks from the enemy vanguard
…
"Impossible… how could this be! Our elite mech squadron in Novosibirsk…"
"Captain… run! They're closing in!"
"Impossible… impossible…"
"Captain…!"
A flash of light erupted from Captain Bumek's left eye, and amidst the splattering blood, the ruptured eyeball slowly drooped
—Lieutenant Molly suddenly felt a searing pain throughout her body, pain signals emanating from many places. In the chaos, she lost all
sense of her body and her surroundings. As Captain Bumek collapsed heavily, she too fell comically in agony.
But for some reason, Lieutenant Molly didn't believe she would die here.
The officer, baseless and devoid of judgment and autonomy, firmly believed this… and so she closed her filthy eyes.
As for the Canaria armored vehicle unit that utterly annihilated the ambush of the artillery regiment
, its vanguard, after destroying the ambushing artillery regiment, did not turn around to encircle and annihilate the infantry lines
. Instead, it concentrated all its forces to directly attack the mech squadron behind enemy lines.
In terms of combat strength, the vanguard regiment's four tank squads had already lost one and a half squads,
and the remaining ten tanks were clearly no match for the mech squadron. However, they adopted a reckless assault tactic,
breaking into the squadron's lines in one fell swoop, disrupting the textbook-laid defenses, and forcing the intact defensive line into a chaotic melee.
Rookie troops with no combat experience lack emergency response capabilities the most. Faced with such unexpected tactics
, the command system, which had fallen into chaos, would take at least three times as long to recover as a regular army.
The damage they suffered during this period had indeed left a deep shadow in everyone's hearts, and the losses in equipment
were even more irreparable.
However, the chaos couldn't be entirely blamed on being a first-time competitor. Another reason for the despair was the
vast disparity in tank strength between the two sides.
The military academy used retired models from the regular army, half of which were antiques from the previous era
, and the rest were at least twenty or thirty years old. In contrast, the Kanaria tank convoy consisted entirely
of the latest models produced two years prior. Their advanced electromagnetic reactive armor significantly enhanced their defensive capabilities,
a stark contrast to the easily destroyed older tanks.
Thus, despite losing only two tanks, the Kanaria tank convoy successfully shattered
the morale of the 1275th Armored Squadron and disrupted the regional government's flank.
The Novosibirsk army, its front lines rapidly retreating, did not give up. The defending forces still included a combat training
regiment and an infantry company, while a sniper regiment was concealed in nearby buildings. Omsk was not so easily lost.
Unfortunately, this ambition did not last long… Even the elite combat training corps
was useless against the new tanks. The mechanized infantry that followed launched a fierce attack on the 2009th Company's lines.
Pasavna and Sharona's elite troops quickly broke through the defenses; underestimating student soldiers was clearly a mistake.
Before long, the defenses crumbled, the area around the regional government was gradually suppressed, and the sniper regiment, deprived of support, was also
wiped out.
The fall of the Omsk regional government building area directly threatened the military academy located in the rear. However, true
despair came from the encirclement formed by the defeat on three fronts; the mech training brigade suffered a complete
defeat.
The double eagle flag burned to ashes, and the double eagle flag flew wildly.
The flag of victory was a red flag with a gold body and a double-headed eagle. The Tsarist police and military, victorious in their first battle, continued their advance.
In the Omsk Oblast of the Holy Russian Empire, at the Novosibirsk Military Academy of the Imperial State Council,
news of the defeat of the Mech Training Brigade—the most elite unit of the Novosibirsk Army—
immediately caused widespread panic. The entire academy comprised only a division, half of whose elite troops had been completely wiped out.
Defeated, the remaining half of the rookie troops were completely panicked.
Just as the flames of war were about to reach this area, the Strategic Research Institute made
a terrifying suggestion to the division headquarters:
"There is no chance of victory in this battle. Continuing to fight will only increase casualties. Therefore, please raise the white flag."
"What…!"
The division headquarters erupted in uproar. Officers who prided themselves on their past glories were all furious. A united
front of hatred and indignation immediately formed. One of the officers, unable to contain his temper, pointed at the deputy
director of the Strategic Research Institute and roared, "You! You bunch of people from the Strategic Research Institute! How dare you betray our senior, Imperial Affairs Director Irina,
and Southern Army Chief of Staff Zoya?!"
The deputy director frowned. Just seconds before, she had hoped that everyone present would notice the resentment in her tone, but
no one had. Therefore, she roared back with a mixture of grief and indignation, "We don't want
the reputation of the Novosibirsk Division to be tarnished either! But you saw it yourself, the Mech Training Brigade was completely wiped out! Our Strategic Research Institute even
swore to Lieutenant General Zoya that we would absolutely... absolutely fulfill our mission..."
"Then join us in summoning courage! Fight to the last man!"
"No! Absolutely not! An enemy that even our elite troops couldn't stop, and now only children remain on campus. We cannot
let them die in vain!"
"It seems further words are useless. Someone! Please remove the deputy director from her seat!"
"Listen to me! Lieutenant General Zoya wants us to protect the children!"
"Guards!"
The soldiers approached the deputy director of the Strategic Research Institute with hesitant expressions, but hesitated because of the previous conversation. The
officer who had vowed never to surrender had personally taken action, making the already tense atmosphere even heavier. When she angrily
kicked the deputy director out of the meeting room and turned to look at everyone, a sudden change in atmosphere enveloped her.
It was a consensus reached in just a few seconds—to switch sides.
Those who had originally stood with her on the front line of resistance had switched sides simply because of a few words from the deputy director, without her
noticing… Feeling betrayed, the officer slammed his fist on the table indignantly
, about to utter inspiring words, when he was interrupted by a nearby explosion.
A disheveled soldier rushed in, shouting, "Enemy mech squadron attacking!
Enemy tracks to the north, east, and south!"
The fact that it was a single artillery barrage, not a coordinated attack, made the implications clear.
"You can surrender now, or we'll launch a general offensive!" It was over. Utterly over. 　　The glorious tradition of the Novosibirsk Military Academy for 150 years… the cradle of the mythical Novosibirsk Tactical Training Division of the Imperial State Council …
had come to an end 　　, accompanied by a complete collapse of morale. 　　Holy Russian Empire, Yakutia, Yakutsk Oblast. 　　The moment the Novosibirsk Division raised its white flag, as if signaling a counterattack, 　　roars of fury echoed through the streets of Yakutsk. 　　But as the saying goes, even the most beautiful flowers eventually fade. The soldiers gathered here, their despairing sparks of a final battle 　　blooming. 　　The attackers were—the 206th Division of the Tsarist Police Force. 　　The attackers were the Fourth Political Police Army of the Imperial State Council. 　　In addition, there was a neutral force—the Yakutsk 　　Defense Army—that belonged neither to the attackers nor the defenders. Since the defense forces in various regions were directly under Moscow's control, they had received 　　no orders and were unclear about the situation 　　during the Far Eastern Army's large-scale southward advance, merely setting up defensive lines at various government offices. Of course, except for 　　those under the control of the Imperial State Council. 　　Despite knowing they were no match for the regular army, the mere thousand black-clad policemen, all armed with submachine guns and 　　sniper rifles, positioned themselves in a defensive posture at their stronghold—the political police building. 　　"401st Political and Police Battalion! Total strength 200, actual strength 200!" 　　"403rd Political and Police Battalion! Total strength 240, actual strength 240!" " 　　405th Political and Police Battalion! Total strength 200, actual strength 200!" " 　　409th Political and Police Battalion! Total strength 224, actual strength 224!" " Brigadier General 　　Zirnovna's direct subordinate, 407th Political and Police Battalion! Total strength 196, actual strength 196!" 　　"Brave and courageous comrades! We are the armed symbol of the Imperial State Council in the Far East, and we 　　must never give up easily!" 　　"Die for the motherland—!" 　　The extremely low temperature of minus forty degrees Celsius was not suitable for urban warfare, but the 206th Division, which had come from afar, 　　was not afraid of the icy world; the soldiers trembled violently inside the snow-covered troop transport vehicles, a mixture of fear of being in 　　extremely harsh conditions and the impulse to fight. With 　　the destruction of the Fourth Political and Police Army's only four tanks, the battle situation immediately shifted to a stronghold war. 　　"Strong Bow One! Sweep through all the buildings, leave no survivors!" 　　"Black Eye One! Destroy the heating in each building according to plan! Move! Move! Move!" 　　"Strong Bow Two! If you lose to the Black Eye team's bitches, don't come back! Get in!" 　　"Strong Bow Three! Did you all hear that? Complete the mission before the heating is cut off!" 　　"Red Eye One! Secure the high ground and escape route! Everyone disembark now!" 　　"You shameful naked insects! Don't betray the kindness of General Bakhta's personal training! Operation begins!" 　　"In the name of Her Highness the Princess—!" 　　The presence of the Yakuzka Defense Force did not allow the 206th Division to directly raze the police and government buildings. 　　Engaging in a protracted battle with thousands of armed forces was unwise. Therefore, the mechanized infantry brigade entering the Imperial Household Department's territory split into five groups: 　　three advancing from the front, one destroying the building's heating, and one providing cover in polar equipment. 　　The Fourth Political and Police Force was deployed within the crescent-shaped structure of the Political and Police Building. Their armament consisted primarily of standard submachine guns, 　　which were very useful in security operations or counter-terrorism, but somewhat inadequate against regular troops. Despite a 　　significant disparity in suppressive firepower, the Political and Police Battalion, employing a mobile defensive posture between various strongholds, 　　managed to hold off the attackers to a standstill. 　　However, their defensive advantage did not last long; the number of troops pouring into the Political and Police Building had exceeded one thousand, and the front lines...

The makeshift fortifications at the outpost were almost entirely destroyed in the fighting, and the battle gradually escalated into a face-to-face confrontation.
In the lobby of the second floor of the eastern police building, which was on the verge of falling, a dozen black-clad police officers lying in ambush faced
annihilation.
When the outpost defending the front entrance was suppressed, they immediately cut off the power and heating to the area,
attempting to stop the intruders from filing in. However, things didn't go as planned; the regular army sought a swift victory, and the offensive did not
slow down. The remaining members of the squadron responsible for defending the area decided to fight and retreat, and a fierce battle ensued at the retreat point.
"Gah…!"
"Chimuge!"
"N-nothing! Just my butt… Damn it, nothing my ass! I'll kill you!"
"Alright! Come on up if you don't want to die!"
--The firepower was far inferior.
The new submachine guns were at best on par with the old assault rifles, but they were carrying old submachine guns, not to
mention their opponents were equipped with new assault rifles… Seeing Lieutenant Qimuge and most of his men wounded,
Major Narentuya's determination to retreat was strengthened.
The question was, where could they retreat to?
The comrades on the third-floor corridor, seeing their wounded and disheveled state, were filled with a
burning desire for revenge, vowing to avenge them. This scene reignited the fighting spirit of many wounded soldiers, but in Narentuya's
eyes, she only saw another group of wounded soldiers fleeing in disarray. Here, they
parted ways with their comrades, determined to fight the invaders to the death, and continued their retreat.
Just as they returned to the medical center on the sixth floor, the room suddenly went dark.
Then—silence.
The noise of the heating system gone, a desperate silence descended upon the sixth floor… no, upon the entire
east-facing building.
"The heating units were the responsibility of the 403rd Squad, right? Were they all wiped out?"
"We can't hold out without heating..."
"Damn it! Are those guys planning to take us all down with them?!"
With nowhere to retreat and only death ahead, the black-clad policemen started arguing amongst themselves as the room rapidly cooled.
"Break out...we have to break out!"
"Where else can we go? It's full of regular troops outside!"
"The defense force base is in the neighboring district...we'll seek refuge with the defense force!"
"You idiot! It's because the defense force isn't intervening that we're being attacked! In my opinion, the only option is
...surrender..."
"What...what did you say! You think they'll let us go?!"
"What else do you suggest we do! We're going to freeze to death if we stay here any longer!"
Just as the pro-war and pro-peace factions were arguing, a
black-clad policewoman with a bloodied head appeared at the exit to the fifth floor. What set her apart from the others was that she wore a regular army snow
jacket, without any embroidered insignia or identification.
The wounded policewoman, supported by two companions, reached the sixth-floor lobby. Even
the slowest person could vaguely understand why this attire had allowed her to pass through the lower three floors.
"Gao Wa… are you alright?"
Narentuya and Qimuge called out simultaneously. Gao Wa nodded apologetically to them.
"Major, Qimuge… I'm sorry."
Sorry… what?
Wounded retreat?
Surrendered during the battle?
Or… did she specifically come back to the command center to persuade everyone to surrender?
Gao Wa remained silent, simply standing at the exit, trembling. Even so, those comrades who knew what her arrival signified
received the message from the enemy, and one by one, they shut their mouths and silently accepted it.
"You can surrender now, or we'll launch a general attack!" It was over.
Utterly over .
The glory of the Fourth Political Police Army… the Far East dominance of the Imperial Council… at this moment, along with the plummeting
morale of the army—it all came to a halt.
Side Story: "Saint Valentine"
Saint Valentine's Day.
A festival that was abolished nearly two hundred years ago, abandoning its religious connotations and transforming into a commercial celebration.
In this romantic atmosphere created by couples all over the world, a lonely girl sits at
an outdoor café table on a Madrid street at night, swaying alone amidst the bustling crowds.
The girl… or rather, the woman who looks like a girl, is staring blankly at the throngs of people.
She had short, light blonde hair, the naturally curly ends reaching 2.5 centimeters below her shoulders. The roots, with her
languid posture and habitually relaxed movements, slipped down to her ears, covering three-quarters of her pale ears,
making her look like a neglected wildcat.
This wildcat differed from domesticated cats in that her skin possessed two different colors
: pale, soft skin and dark, mottled patches, pieced together like jigsaw puzzle pieces to form her appearance.
Well, actually, it had nothing to do with what kind of cat it was, just as a Russian Blue cat and a Scottish Fold cat
couldn't represent a vicious senior and a pitiful junior… This pointless amusement brought her little comfort,
just as the lively sea cucumber under her light orange plaid skirt couldn't affect her body at all.
The reason for the punishment was not giving the seniors chocolates, the time limit was the entire outing time, and the person punished by sitting down
was, of course, the other group of girls who had gone out with her that day.
As for that unfortunate girl, Marie? Alexandrovna? Toroska, she had mysteriously disappeared.
Almost... just eight minutes later.
The two-toned wildcat shifted her gaze from her silver watch, listlessly plunging back into the unfamiliar crowd
, letting the overly sweet displays of affection from couples disturb her heart, which was gradually melting away with the street atmosphere.
Today was formerly Saint Valentine's Day—now known as Valentine's Day.
Almost every café in Madrid was packed with couples, young and old; it would
be foolish to tumble in alone in such a romantic atmosphere. Marie's presence had been a great help, allowing her to sit comfortably
in the corner of the thirty-five tables without seeming out of place, avoiding the unpleasant impression of a single woman in the eyes of others, making her
appear merely a pitiful creature temporarily forgotten by her female companions.
Valentine's Day.
A day to freely ask someone you like to hold hands, hug, and kiss.
Although she didn't consider herself to have anyone like that, if she had to make a comparison, a face would quickly appear in her mind. A woman
with the same light blonde hair as herself, taller and stronger, with cold and arrogant eyes… a
woman who must be in faraway Kiev, named Somia Nilayevna Romanova.
That is… her older sister.
Her older sister who belongs only to her.
The snow-white nape of her neck revealed by her hair tied up, her proudly puffed-out chest, the strong yet beautiful
curves of her thighs… A simple online search yields photos of her in various formal attire, whether majestic or
alluring, she has to save them all… She even picks her favorite photo, prints it out, and carefully
attaches it to the inside of her mission cloak to carry with her at all times… Ah… If only I could walk down the street with my older sister like a couple
…
“Ivanova, drool, drool…”
Her delusions, floating amidst the clamor, were quickly shattered by the familiar accent. The little wildcat—Faina
? Nilayevna? Ivanova subconsciously sucked her lip, successfully collecting a considerable amount
of the saliva that had made her look so unsightly.
Amused by this action, Marie pulled out the chair opposite Faina, waved the bright pink cardboard
box in her hand, and sat down. Aside from a little girl's logo, the box itself was unremarkable, but the various
chocolate aromas wafting out immediately revealed the answer. Faina, wiping her mouth with a tissue, asked, "You were gone for so long
just to buy this?"
Mary, her bangs neatly combed and her long brown hair falling gently, nodded, beaming, "I
've noticed this shop for half a year! I heard their chocolates and candies are more affordable than those high-end chain stores,
so..."
Oh dear, she'd forgotten that once Mary started talking, it was like a barrage of questions... Faina , whose interest in chocolate wasn't
as great as her older sister's, could only obediently endure the relentless bombardment of trivial matters.
Today, Mary wore a pure white long-sleeved sweater with a beige scarf and a
pink long skirt similar in style to Faina's. Combined with her delicate and charming hairstyle and happy smile, she made a very good impression
. However, this wasn't actually their idea; it was Mary's senior classmate who dressed her
up. Incidentally, Faina's senior classmate had dressed her in a thin cotton dress, forbidding her from wearing underwear—
clearly a prank.
Unfortunately, the sea cucumber under Faina's dress had been throbbing intermittently since noon, only
bothering her for the first five minutes; now it was just writhing inside. If this punishment
had any meaning for her, it was probably that she had to run to the bathroom and apply lubricant every time it worked to avoid injuring
her private parts.
So, it seems Mary, who was also punished, was in the same situation. Only her senior classmate was much kinder to her
, unlike Faina, who was punished every now and then.
"...I've been talking all this, haven't you? Ivanova?"
Faina's ethereal gaze quickly focused on Mary's pointed nose, and she snapped out of her reverie, replying, "Mmm."
Mary sighed dramatically.
Just then, the waitress brought over the coffee: a hot caramel macchiato, as tall and graceful as a passionate dancer, and
an iced black coffee, as short and steady as a conductor. Faina tilted her head, thinking for a moment; it was probably Mary who ordered it while she was spacing out. So she picked up her own
black coffee and took a sip without stirring.
The soft, bitter aroma spread in a subtle vibration, and as the aroma intensified, Mary muttered, "Ivanova,
so pretentious—"
Well, not really… but seeing Mary happily enjoying her hot drink,
Faina swallowed her prepared protest.
The reason she always chose iced drinks to the point that Mary would order them for her without even asking was simply
because her body was prone to sweating, but due to severe skin problems that damaged her sweat glands, she was unsuitable for sweating
, and she made this arrangement to avoid skin allergies.
Avoiding sugar was an even more common reason: dieting. Despite her current perfectly proportioned figure, considering how
her seniors always stuffed her with high-calorie foods after tasks or training, she figured she should try to avoid calorie-related activities unless absolutely necessary
.
Mary knew this, but she certainly wanted to seize this opportunity to chat.
"Hoo-ha! It's really delicious!"
A sweet, cloying aroma wafted over with Mary's breath, and Faina seized the chance to remark, "The
only person who can drink coffee like they're drinking tequila is probably Toroska."
"No way… I'm done with one cup of that stuff. Something sweet and not spicy is much better." What
the girl who passed out after one cup didn't mention was that she later downed three glasses of vodka cocktails, danced three dances, spun around
in her seniors' arms, and finally, in front of everyone, practically dragged the half-drunk Faina to the bathroom… It just
goes to show that things always get embellished by the person involved, creating a significant gap between the truth and reality.
Fortunately, all we drank today was coffee or soda, so there was no need to worry about Mary displaying her terrible drinking habits.
"Ivanova, hand over."
"Hmm?"
Mary reached into the box, picking and choosing, her gaze fixed on Faina's eyes, as if she could
pick out the chocolate she wanted without even looking—and in the end, the one that landed on her palm was indeed a dark chocolate that met both of their expectations
.
The saddle-shaped dark chocolate, about the size of a fingernail, was sprinkled with pretty almond pieces, and the bittersweet taste was quite
good. Faina took another one.
Mary, having successfully won over her target with chocolate, smiled happily. This time, she didn't place it directly
in Faina's open palm, but instead held the chocolate between her thumb and forefinger and brought it to Faina's lips. Faina stared at the beaming
Mary, raising an eyebrow awkwardly, and asked, "What's going on?"
"You know perfectly well what I mean."
"That's strange, we're not in that kind of relationship."
"It won't do anything. Why don't you treat me like the second princess? Come on, ah—"
"What nonsense are you talking about…"
The two types are so different, how could she possibly mistake the innocent little girl in front of her for her aloof older sister
?
Unfortunately, her mind, which had been recording sweet scenes all day, couldn't help but imagine—
the image of her older sister doing this to her.
Imagining her older sister's elegant posture, her gentle smile, and
the hand reaching out in sync with her coaxing voice...
"Come on, ah—" Even though she vaguely knew that the voice was actually coming from Marie, Faina couldn't help but
open her cherry lips to her imagined older sister...
"Ah..."
The rich and mellow taste melted in her mouth, and Faina's eyes became intoxicated. Suddenly, her older sister
snapped her fingers at her, and the pink dreamy atmosphere instantly vanished, and noise filled her surroundings again. In front of her was
Marie, who was mischievously covering her mouth and laughing.
"T-Toroskaia!"
"Haha, she actually ate it with a cute expression!"
How embarrassing... But considering the chocolate was delicious, it's okay.
Unexpectedly, Marie wasn't satisfied with just playing around and waved another chocolate in front of Faina.
"Lovely little Faina, ah—"
Completely unmoved.
Faina gave a dismissive look and turned to drink her coffee.
This time, no amount of coaxing worked, so Marie had no choice but to swallow the milk chocolate, which she had also chosen in the wrong flavor
. The sweet taste reminded her of the sweet look that the pretty girl across from her had inadvertently revealed earlier.
Later, the two chatted about trivial things—what they ate on Christmas Eve, a certain senior
's little-known quirks, a beautiful dress found on a certain street in a certain country—to while away
the leisurely time woven by coffee and chocolate, until Faina's watch beeped.
7:12, not exactly crisp, but it was a time that left plenty of room for people from all over Madrid to get to the designated airport and catch their designated
flights.
After chugging two cups of black coffee, Faina stretched and got up.
Marie, who had downed two caramel macchiatos and stuffed herself with a bunch of chocolates, also got up to pack.
The two got into a taxi, each watching the fleeting night street scene, letting their bodies, which had been out shopping for most of the day,
rest.
The back seat of the car was filled with the mixed scents of perfume, leather seats, coffee, and chocolate, each scent
slowly fading in intensity. Perhaps by the time they reached the airport, there would be very little left, and they would be completely odorless when they returned to Russia .
Except for the box of chocolates that Marie was determined to take back as a gift for her seniors.
Rather than being leisurely—or rather, somewhat empty—the half-day trip to Madrid was coming to an end.
Faina closed her eyes wearily.
Whew. It was supposed to be a rare holiday, and she had planned to go to Kiev to see her older sister. 　　She had even prepared for a whole week
to infiltrate the Royal Palace … 　　but because her direct senior had something come up at the last minute, and she didn't want to waste the tickets she had booked, she forced herself to fly 　　to Spain for fun. The most inexplicable thing is that the return ticket will be deducted from my salary... 　　If it weren't for Toroska accompanying me, I probably would have been bored to death on the streets of Madrid, or 　　jealous to death by the passersby. 　　Thinking of this, I feel that today's trip wasn't so bad... at least I had someone to accompany me. 　　"Hey, Ivanova..." 　　A familiar voice came from the dark right side. Faina said softly, "How is it?" 　　"It's Valentine's Day today." 　　"Yeah." 　　"Only today can you treat me like a second princess and give me a kiss." 　　"You're talking nonsense again." 　　"You can also add a lot of lewd things." 　　"You still say that." 　　"Hehe, don't be shy, feel free to be cute to your older sister!" 　　"I'm too lazy to play with your crazy behavior..." 　　As long as she is indifferent, Marie will know when to back down. This trick has always worked, and Faina decided 　　to do the same. 　　But… thanks to her mother, her not-so-slow-witted mind, after calming down, managed to understand some 　　things that were only important to certain people. 　　So, Faina quietly sighed inwardly, then perked up and silently moved closer to Marie. 　　Marie, who had seemed dejected, gave a somewhat forced smile and also silently leaned in. 　　“Hmm…” 　　Ivanova tasted slightly bitter today. 　　“Chu…” 　　Toroska tasted sweet today. 　　St. Valentine’s Day. 　　A day to freely ask someone you like to hold hands, hug, and kiss. 　　Although she didn’t consider herself to have anyone like that, at this moment she was very grateful to have this girl beside her—regardless 　　of whether you were a gift from St. Valentine. 　　“Accept it with joy, a gift from St. Valentine!” 　　A flippant tone revealed an unpleasant accent, and what entered her ears was fluent 　　Spanish, but heavily hampered by the accent. 　　Having lived in this country for at least thirty years, she only wanted 　　to slice that annoying accent in two with the dagger in her pocket. However, all that actually happened was a deep, thin sting in her neck 　　and a rapidly fading consciousness—by the time she realized the danger, the injection was already complete, and the fast-acting drug 　　had fully taken effect in her bloodstream. 　　As soon as the tall, thin woman with dark skin and short black hair fainted, another woman, speaking with an unpleasant accent, carried 　　her on her back. The strong smell of alcohol emanating from that woman immediately enveloped her exhausted body, making her appear as if she were just 　　one of many women who had passed out drunk that day. 　　The crucial difference between her and those women was… they wouldn't suffer cardiac arrest from the drugs 　　and be left to die in a rented car. 　　But she wasn't really alone… if you were to draw a 280-foot radius 　　around a certain target, she was one of the twenty-first women mistakenly thought to have passed out drunk and then carried onto four vans.

The woman with the terrible accent casually helped her into the car, locked the door, and before she could rejoin the crowd
, a rapidly decreasing amount of static came through her earpiece, followed by a shrill soprano voice: "Olivia, good job!
Evangeline will handle the remaining two targets. You stand by—oh no, it's almost time. You should
put on some makeup and get ready to pick up the newbie."
The woman with ordinary, bright blonde hair, wearing ordinary, cheap clothes, and seemingly lacking in charm
—Olivia—silently accepted the instruction and returned to the van that had just been crammed with another corpse. Right next to
the four gradually stiffening women and the theater woman who was assisting her, she quickly applied an old, dark makeup,
put on a slightly dirty, messy black curly wig, smoked a cheap cigarette to mask her body odor, and finally changed into an ugly
casual outfit commonly seen in chain stores.
Everything was ready. Olga got out of the car, walked down a street, found the taxi the soprano had called beforehand, paid the driver
some money, and got into the driver's seat, using the slovenly photo in her pocket as a new identification.
The circle, 280 feet in diameter, had deviated slightly from its original location. Olga immediately started the car and drove
towards the open-air café where the target was located. Just as she spotted a cute little hand waving in her direction,
static burst from her earpiece: "Ugh... that bitch Evangeline messed up, seems to have a special constitution, Anisia is on her way
... We'll stay put here, let's take the cats back to their nests."
I know—even if she wanted to reply, she couldn't. With only earpieces but no microphone, Olga
could only drive the car to the cats' side and impatiently urge
the two of them to get in, speaking in Spanish with a southern Serbian accent. An annoying static rang out: "Line blocked, lifted in twenty minutes."
This was to avoid alerting the cats, and Olga was happy to relax and focus on driving—
adding a not-so-tragic note to her likely fate of receiving no support for the next twenty minutes.
They'd slaughtered twenty-one Templar Order bastards in Spain today…
twenty-three if Evan's side was dealt with. According to Madrid's records, the Templars had at least four outposts and
over eighty members; if they mobilized the local armed nuns, their numbers could exceed two hundred. Their
side had—
six people.
Three from the Russian Secret Service's Armed Section 9 and Armed Section 22.
The operation was simple: release two distinctive cats, thinking they were on vacation, to brazenly blend into the crowd,
then deliver the message to the Templar branch and…assassinate everyone who entered the protected area.
Whether the assailants were lone or in small groups, whether they were lured into the shadows or given
a loving injection in the crowd—it didn't change
the fact that those Spanish Templars, those inexperienced bitches, were destined for defeat.
As for the cats nestled in the back of Olga's seat, they seemed completely unaware of their four senior sisters'
presence from the start…that was fine, bait without awareness is the best bait.
But…
if possible…
I really hoped they weren't kissing so sweetly in the rearview mirror…
As a rare, excellent senior sister who didn't particularly enjoy teasing her juniors, Olga felt a mix of emotions upon witnessing this scene
. Because that act of licking each other's wounds was just…too cute.
Yes, whether it was her own Faina or the girl next door, little Mary, they were both such adorable girls…and with
such endearing behavior, it made Olga, whose guilt was three to fifteen times greater than her companions',
feel utterly tormented.
Ah… Even though it was only to protect the children from being abused by others, I still held them, had
physical contact, even bodily fluids…
Now the punishment has arrived, in the ever-expanding guilt, in
the slight jealousy that arises from such pure hearts.
Lord.
I am a bad child with blood on my hands.
Even so, do I have the right to protect the children…?
“Sister Olga, come, ah—”
The rich aroma of dark chocolate wafted over, and Olga, lost in self-reproach, opened her mouth without thinking,
taking a bite amidst the rather soothing female voice—beyond the thin layer of rich cocoa aroma, came
a strong caviar flavor.
Olga’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead, her eyes dramatically filled with hot tears.
"Little Mary..."
"Yes?"
"Is my disguise really that bad..."
"Ah... well, ugh..."
Mary, who had been taking up half of the rearview mirror, was now distressed, while the other half was
filled by Faina's round face.
"Because Olga always says what's on her mind."
"I was just confessing in my heart..."
"'Lord! I'm a bad child with blood on my hands!'"
"Ah... ahh..."
She lost her composure. Her bad habit kept coming back, it was a huge embarrassment...
"Um, Olga, we can hear you even if you speak softly... including the part about losing your composure."
"I know... I'm sorry."
Awkward... oh...!
Dressed up like this and still being recognized, and unable to solve anything with her annoying emotional
outbursts like Anisia and the others, she could only let the embarrassment fill the car...
but the cats quickly found a way to resolve the awkwardness.
"Olga... *kiss*"
"Ivanova, my turn... Hey! I didn't mean for you to kiss me!" "
I'm clearly happy."
"No way... Olga, I love you the most! *kiss*"
"Toroska, are you drunk?"
"No way... Hehe... Yay! I caught Olga's boobs!"
"I knew it... You were eating all those liquor-filled drinks! Weren't they for Evan and Annie?"
"Because they were so delicious! I ate them all! Hehehe... *hiccup*!"
Even though Mary, in her drunken stupor, clung to Olga, demonstrating the full spectrum of sexual harassment, the two kittens' tenderness
had calmed her heart under the magic of their two kisses.
Olga perked up again, humming a spontaneous melody, and
continued towards the airport, accompanied by the noisy chatter of her cats in the back seat.
"I am the Good Shepherd, I know my sheep, and my sheep know me,"
she remembered to say this time.
Although her cats were already too noisy to pay any attention to this dirty shepherd…
no, she should be called the "cat" shepherd.
"Evangeline, come here, ah—"
"Don't act stupid, you stinky abalone over thirty."
"W-what did you say! Hey, you perverted priest, look at her!"
"Evangeline is just jealous of Olga. And don't call me a perverted priest."
"Don't talk nonsense, you stinky abalone."
"Heh—so you're jealous, huh? The carefully nurtured little Mary offered a kiss to someone else's older sister...
Hehehe!"
"What are you laughing at? I'll kill you!"
"Ahahaha! How scary, how scary. But the perverted priest said you were jealous first!"
"Evangeline, little Mary bought you chocolate. Annie, don't be jealous. And don't call me a perverted
priest."
"I don't care about chocolate!" "Who's jealous of whom?!" "
Alright, alright, one has a sister complex, the other is obvious..." 　　Chapter 2 "The Kiev Incident" #4 of
*Saint Valentine*, 　　Holy Russian Empire, Capital? Moscow. 　　News of the Southern Army's rebellion spread rapidly throughout the capital region. In recent days, 　　the troop strength along the Kiev-Volgograd defense line has not decreased but increased, and rumors have even circulated in Astrakhan that a second reserve force will be called up. The Southern Army's restless 　　movements have drawn the attention of the opposing Central Army, and following the St. Petersburg forces, the Moscow forces have also entered a state of emergency. 　　Although there has been no news from the Kremlin, the war order issued by the Imperial Council has been confirmed, and the Central Army 　　has begun to reinforce the capital's defenses. 　　The total number of regular troops facing each other within Russia has risen from 350,000 to 650,000. 　　Kremlin, Ural Hall, Regular Meeting 2287. 　　In the tense atmosphere of the Black Gold Meeting, besides the Tsar who remains missing, the Chief of the Harem, Maria, is also present. 　　Only the Chief of the Imperial Council, Irina, and the Chief Advisor, Ginaida, are present. 　　Irina recited the prepared procedure verbatim, and after receiving Ginaida's approval, she raised her dry voice and read 　　, "So, the key points of this meeting are as follows: First, the Kiev Incident; second, the Siberian Incident; third, 　　the Far East Incident..." 　　Her fluent voice trailed off for a few seconds, then Irina's gaze swept across the sky, her voice trailing off, "...That's all." 　　Even with a chaotic mind, she maintained her elegance, and Irina's composed demeanor caused the royal physician to slightly raise the corners of his mouth. 　　Irina pretended not to notice and began, "Now, let's begin the first item on this agenda." 　　The Kiev Incident. 　　Under the meticulous information control of the Imperial Council, the public and most nobles believed that the incident was 　　a rebellion by the Southern Army. However, some people outside Irina's faction knew that the main cause of the incident lay in the Gorky Palace; 　　these people were members of the royal family residing in the capital. For example, the chief advisor before her. 　　As the chief advisor loyal to the Tsar—regardless of which Tsar it was—Ginaida's position was 　　quite firm from the beginning. If one were to 　　juxtapose this with the utterly absurd Supreme Decree of "Anna of Russia" from twenty-eight years prior, it would be clear that Ginaida sided with the Third Princess Annabel and her daughter Anna. 　　Since both sides present knew the cause of the events and understood each other's positions, there was no need for beating around the bush or being 　　insincere. 　　However, what was there to say? 　　The Kiev Incident was a countermeasure; the Siberian and Far Eastern Incidents were extensions of it. The root of the problem remained 　　the Tsar's loss of control. 　　A major reshuffle was imminent in the Imperial Household Department, and the traditional Irina faction was a potential threat—to dismantle this 　　faction, the Third Princess's power, which should have been in retirement, had resurfaced. 　　In short, the two sides were already on opposing sides. 　　Thinking of this, Irina's innermost thoughts and decorative words stuck in her throat, plunging the Ural Hall into a natural 　　silence. 　　Indeed, the silence wasn't awkward at all, but rather perfectly natural. 　　Both sides knew each other's positions and understood how far the other might have inferred from them; an invisible 　　power struggle had already begun, much like a crucial moment in a chess game. 　　Irina was "strategizing," not at a loss. 　　Ginaida was "determining the course of events," not simply watching the drama unfold. 　　The silence lasted for a full fifteen minutes and forty-six seconds before the tense standoff finally shifted. 　　Breaking the stillness was the gentle voice of the middle-aged royal physician. Ginaida spoke as naturally as if conversing with an old friend 　　: "Your Excellency Irina, I personally have great respect for you." 　　The voice was so gentle, the words so kind… perhaps it was precisely because it was so mild that Irina 　　felt a sense of calm before the storm. The gentle voice continued, "You are a rare 　　genius among royalty, yet you lack the arrogance of worldly nobles. The stability our nation enjoys today is all thanks to you." 　　"Unfortunately, you stand against me, attempting to disrupt this stability." 　　Hearing Irina's calm protest, Ginaida smiled knowingly. 　　"You support the Royal Council system that connects royalty and commoners, while I support the Anastasia system. Now 　　that the two systems are in conflict, this opposition is inevitable." 　　"Forgive my bluntness, but I cannot understand why a wise person like you would fall into the trap of idol worship?" 　　"Oh?" 　　"You seem to unconditionally trust Marianne IV…trust the Tsar." 　　Ginaida tapped her fingers on the table and nodded, "You could say that." 　　Irina frowned slightly, then regained her composure, saying, "That doesn't make sense." 　　"Yes, when someone chooses to attach themselves to an individual rather than follow an ideology, you could say that."

"What I don't understand is, when the Tsar you trusted began to act out of control, why didn't you, as the wise man of the nation,
dissuade her?"
"What do you mean by out of control?"
"She will betray the will of the people."
"How so?"
"The mobilization of the reserve military districts… no, it should be said, even earlier…"
—That's right.
If the Third Princess's actions were a test of Irina's hypothesis, then
the moment the Third Princess was given the position of commander of the reserve military districts was the beginning of Irina's suspicions about the whole affair.
Everything should have a contingency plan, but when one's own contingency plan—this
trump card that can turn the tide in a critical moment—is in the hands of someone else, it's clear that the system is flawed.
The Imperial Council's political police force, whose mission is similar to the gendarmerie, has its so-called second political police force reserve system controlled
by a princess who is not affiliated with the Imperial Council.
Even the previous commanders of the reserve military districts before the Third Princess were all members of the Tsarist faction. However
, Irina didn't pay much attention to the royal family. Instead, it was the appointment of the third princess, Anna
, as commander-in-chief that gradually instilled a sense of foreboding. Annabel Elizabeth Yevna Romanova—
a third princess with seventeen official residences throughout Russia, whose every move was synchronized
, and whose locations and information were inaccessible even to the Chief of the Imperial Household Department—
was undoubtedly the key to Marianne IV's loss of control.
And the recent disappearance of the Tsar naturally pointed to the whereabouts of this untouchable figure.
Irina poured out all her accumulated suspicions to Ginaida, hoping to
gain a glimmer of hope from this wise woman. The elderly wise man, however, failed to meet her expectations, only responding calmly: "
What will you do if Marianne betrays the will of the people?"
"If the Tsar's decision has such a powerful influence on the people that the Imperial Council must be removed… then for the sake of
the motherland…"
"Will you not activate the 'Guardians of the Saint' plan?"
"…Yes."
The plan Ginaida mentioned wasn't a concrete scheme, but merely a concept, a
euphemism for "the Third Russian Civil War."
The royal family used different names for historically significant quasi-actions or events, such as calling the war against Turkey
"Operation Sofia," and military preparations in the form of a Great Patriotic War "Operation Seven-Colored Flower." These names
might have a communicative effect in a very few special occasions, but in general, they were just euphemisms understood by both parties
.
The implication was—
"When the Tsar becomes an enemy of the motherland, we have an obligation to eliminate him for the sake of the motherland."
A stern gaze pierced her, but Ginaida remained unmoved.
"You say the Tsar has become an enemy of the motherland... but the Tsar is Russia, and Marianne represents the
Romanova dynasty."
"Excuse my rudeness, but if your body were infected with a disease, you wouldn't let it erode your body day after day, waiting
for death, would you?"
"To call the highest leader of this country a disease... haha."
"Judging from her actions, it's possible."
Rather than possible, it's more accurate to say it's already begun to manifest.
However, what Irina sees as a disease, Ginaida interprets quite differently.
"Your Excellency Irina, can't absolute despotism provide more benefits than side effects to the motherland?"
"History proves it."
"Then, what if absolute despotism is only for a very likely ultimate goal, and
the essence of that goal is not to enslave the people, but to serve all people?"
"This..."
"Not a regional alliance like Great Britain and the African Union, but
a step further than the federal state of the motherland and the United States in the past—"
"...You're not thinking of spouting nonsense about the unification of mankind, are you!"
Ginaida smiled slightly, "Why would it be nonsense?"
Irina felt disgusted by that inappropriately relaxed attitude, but she didn't show it; her emotional
fluctuations were only reflected in her increasingly loud tone.
"As I said before: history proves it."
"Times have changed."
"Desire is human nature, and force is the best means to satisfy it—this has never changed since ancient times."
"Force, yes, force. People worship force, resort to force, simply because it can resolve
conflicts and gain benefits in the shortest time. However, in the last hundred years, a completely new law has emerged, and this powerful tool has moved from theory
to practice."
"You mean, Aphrodite…"
The elderly sage nodded, his fingers interlacing on the table, seemingly not intending to continue. The
bewildered master of ceremonies lowered his head in thought, and the hall returned to an eerie silence until two knocks sounded on the door.
Ginaida put her hands in the pockets of her white robe, stood up, and nodded to Irina.
"These are my personal suggestions... Your Excellency Irina, if the situation necessitates a decision,
I hope you will trust the Kremlin."
"..."
"Then, excuse me."
Ginaida left the Ural Hall, joining the ranks of those leaving, leaving Irina alone, stunned,
standing by the conference table. In the hall,
so quiet that only the increasingly frantic thumping of heartbeats could be heard, a surge of disgust and righteous indignation swept over Irina
.
—They're all the same.
Even though they're all royalty, all confidants of the Tsar, these guys are still the same as those glamorous yet incompetent third-rate nobles
, always failing to speak clearly, self-righteously plotting despicable things—such indignation, imprisoned in cold gazes, the deeply humiliated Dean of Imperial Affairs finally bid farewell to the empty 　　Ural Hall
with only a respectful gesture . 　　Amidst the surging tide of anger and disgust, a fleeting thought flashed through her mind, only to be quickly suppressed: why not incite 　　the Southern Army and the Central Army to truly wage war, and formally launch the Saint Guardian Plan…? 　　However, this chaotic idea failed to fully take shape in her mind; instead, only thoughts of her motherland and Luo…

The calculations were based on the premise of the Manova dynasty.
The rationality supporting the passion clearly told him that a large-scale civil war must absolutely not break out.
Therefore, if the plan to enter the Saint-Guardian phase were to be implemented, decapitation strikes would be the only option.
Was the situation in Siberia and the Far East fortunate or unfortunate…? Although the Imperial Council suffered a complete defeat, the swiftly
ended conflict did not cause prolonged turmoil, thus leaving no room for foreign intervention. If
a third force were given the opportunity to intervene, things would not end with just a civil war.
Similarly, if the Southern and Central armies could be decided in one battle, that would be one thing, but with hundreds of thousands of troops fighting
, it would inevitably lead to a protracted war. Regardless of who wins or loses, the most beneficial force would likely be—Britain or the United States.
And those incompetent nobles of the royal family must be well aware of their patriotism and have used this to devise
this farce.
There's… nothing more to say.
The best solution was to cooperate with those bastards and finish this farce, then hand over the State Council to their chosen
successor. Based on her abilities, even leaving the State Council wouldn't preclude her from securing a ministerial position, especially with her
royal status. Overall, she could still serve her country wholeheartedly.
But what was wrong?
She, who had once become a cog in the state machine, coldly and mechanically turning, was now filled with
resentment.
Was it because of someone she hadn't seen in so long, Zoya, who had once allowed her to live like an ordinary woman?
Tymoshenko…
no… don't think about it.
Focus on the immediate crisis.
Irina suppressed her surging emotions and quickened her pace away from the palace.
Holy Russian Empire, Ural Oblast, Yekaterinburg.
Ginaida arrived in this city, constantly under lockdown, at noon. As soon as she stepped off the high-speed train,
two tall, burly guards approached. This was one of the few places where she could fully utilize her advantages as a member of the royal family and a confidant of the Tsar
, but in reality, it only meant reducing the number of guards accompanying her from four to two: one less due to her royal status
, and one less due to her confidant of the Tsar.
Her next scheduled activity was expected to take another half hour, and this fragmented time bothered her. Since there
wasn't enough time to go to the palace to instruct the girls, she decided to find a place to stay.
So she chose a small restaurant in the station and invited two dutiful guards to share coffee.
The restaurant's television was broadcasting news of the war in Eastern Europe; the Russian army's complete victory in Poland had
stirred the guards and guests to great excitement, and reports of the fierce battles in the Balkans had a similar effect. The First and Second Princesses had become,
in everyone's eyes, the most admirable princesses.
Regardless of whether things unfolded as planned or the outcome was as expected, everyone's emotions were strongly
influenced by them—a phenomenon that Ginaida could not comprehend.
Of course, she didn't spoil the guards' fun, merely masking her discomfort with a faint smile until
the appointed time arrived.
"Yo-ho! Gina, everyone's here, let's go!"
Arriving at the appointed place at the appointed time, meeting the appointed woman, and then countless pre-arranged
events and activities followed.
Everything was under control, flawlessly perfect to the point of being tedious.
On the train to their new destination, she focused her attention on the woman who had come to meet her. The young and beautiful
Maria never seemed to notice her gaze.
"Gina, you're making me a little aroused, aren't you?"
After staring for a while, such feigned flirtation would occasionally surface,
occurring about 17% of the time every ten minutes. She smiled faintly at Maria, plunging the remaining journey
into darkness, counting her heartbeats but not falling asleep.
The train pulled into a medium-sized air force base in Siberia, where they transferred to a helicopter. A colonel
led a fully armed team to escort them; the soldiers' primary function was to ensure they wore
their goggles during the flight, and secondarily to respond to any emergencies.
After a rather uncomfortable flight, even though Ginaida considered herself to be in better physical condition than her peers,
she felt like her bones were about to fall apart. The younger Maria, on the other hand, would occasionally use a coquettish tone,
whether to tease the soldiers or because she was genuinely uncomfortable was unclear.
Once the helicopter landed, the two were allowed to remove their goggles. A smiling, brown-haired major
was waiting for them on the tarmac. Maria frequently flirted with her, but Ginaida, suffering from mild motion sickness, was too
preoccupied to respond to their harmonious interaction.
Two subordinates guarded the major general on either side of them: an elderly and reliable sergeant major and a young and
inexperienced officer. The colonel, not to be outdone, had an armed squad following closely behind, accompanying the two on the snow-covered path to the mountain residence
.
Patrols with guns could be seen intermittently among the spruce trees on either side of the path, and every so often,
military equipment concealed by camouflage cloth could be seen. Ginaida remembered that there wasn't as much camouflage cloth when she came last month; it was probably due to
the war.
At the gate of the princess's residence, a group of maids were welcoming the visitors from the capital. Head maid Stenika led
the group in a deep bow, then received the distinguished guests from the major general and led them into the residence.
The feeling had changed.
The atmosphere had changed.
Although it might be that her own body was beginning to degenerate, making her feel that everything had changed—fortunately, in this
place, there was still a pure presence that allowed her to confirm that she hadn't actually changed.
She parted ways with Maria midway, and Stenica continued leading her to the medical center. The Pure
One arrived to meet her, accompanied by a shy clerk.
Ginaida smiled and nodded to the Pure One, who was wearing a beige dress. The Pure One's slender
arms converged at her abdomen, her round gray eyes gently closed, and her long silver-white hair cascaded down her shoulders with a respectful bow
.
"Dr. Gina, thank you for your long journey. Anna apologizes on behalf of my mother, who was too busy to greet you properly
."
The purity of a thing is pure because even draped in a decorative outer layer, its interior remains crystal clear
.
Ginaida reached out and touched the delicate right cheek of this thing of purity, and under the gaze of those elegant, decorative eyes,
gently pinched it—
"Ouch!"
The impolite cry instantly shattered the outer decoration, revealing its pure interior. The
soft, warm touch of Anna's little face made Ginaida chuckle.
"Little Anna is so strange, I'll have to give your head a good check later."
The touch of her little face was very pleasant, but it would be too pitiful to continue pinching it, so Ginaida released
her little grandson's soft face, patted his head, and continued forward. Immediately behind her came hurried footsteps and leisurely
footsteps, the two kinds of footsteps seemingly separate from the others, gradually intertwining.
"Eiro... Waaah."
"Good girl, good girl."
Hearing Anna's pitiful whimper, Ginaida's smile deepened.
The Third Princess's mansion's medical center had shrunk by about a third compared to last month, and the area that had been cleared
was now being used as an emergency room for the frequently visiting wounded. As soon as Ginaida and the others arrived at the medical center, they
passed by a stretcher with a soldier lying on it whose entire right arm was torn open.
Eiro quickly covered Anna's eyes, and despite her little mistress's repeated resistance,
she only let go when the soldier, who had been holding back his cries, was being carried into the emergency room.
It seemed this was—a test to strengthen bones.
The little princess was clamoring to know what had happened to the person who had just passed by, but everyone tacitly kept quiet about
it, letting Eiro comfort her all the way until they entered Ginaida's office in the medical center.
Stenica and the maids stood guard outside, while Eiro and Anna followed Ginaida into the room. As soon as the door closed, Anna
couldn't help but continue asking questions. Airo patiently dodged the question, successfully diverting her little mistress
's attention with head pats and hugs.
Ginaida quickly washed her hands, put on medical gloves, and slid a chair to the bedside. Anna, with Airo's
help, had already removed her underwear and sat on the edge of the bed, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"Airo, thank you."
"Okay."
Airo grabbed her little mistress's skirt and gradually lifted it until the smooth, delicate private area was fully
revealed to the doctor.
"Oh, there's some broken skin, will it hurt?"
The touch of the pure white latex gloves on the protrusion of her private area made Anna blush and shake her head.
"What about after an erection? Will it hurt?"
She shook her head again.
"Okay, I'll make a note. If the wound doesn't heal or even worsens in the next few days, remember to
get medicine from Stenika or here."
"Okay."
"Also, although it won't have a big impact, try to minimize penetrative sex until the wound heals."
"Ugh..."
"Do you remember the circumstances under which this wound was caused?"
Anna, her face flushed, was speechless, and Airo also fell into a shy recollection, but the master and slave
couldn't figure it out even after thinking for a long time. Ginaida then said, "In short, try to ensure complete lubrication, and also
avoid intense or excessive sexual activity, understand? Anna and Airo."
"Yes...yes."
"Understood..."
"Very good. Then that's enough about Anna's Aphrodite part. Let's talk about..."
Before she could finish speaking, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a strong, fishy smell swept in. The woman who had so rudely
brought this familiar, pungent stench, which no one could stop—Anastasia—
entered the room wearing only a silver nightgown a size too small, her ridiculously erect and dripping penis gleaming.
"Your Majesty, what kind of behavior is this…"
The Holy Empress once again demonstrated her ability to cut off the royal physician's words, letting out a cute shriek and rushing forward to hug her
clearly startled granddaughter.
"Ah—! Little Anna captured! Hey, hey! Little Anna, listen to Grandma! Annabelle, she always
…"
Ah, Anna's eyes went completely vacant… So even something as pure as this couldn't withstand the Tsar's
inexplicable aggression?
Ginaida sighed quietly, giving a look to the bewildered Airo. Once Airo was ready
to take her young master away at any moment, Ginaida gripped the erect penis throbbing between the Holy Empress's legs
—and taking advantage of the Empress's slightly trembling moan, Airo rescued her young master and then slipped out of the room.
Although the little prince hadn't had time to put on his underwear, compared to the threat to his life, the glimpse of his private parts
was unavoidable.
"Ah! Little Anna ran away! It's all your fault... Ee! Gina! What are you doing here!"
"Of course, I'm here for a routine check-up. It's really sad that you're ignoring your own sister for your granddaughter
. This isn't something that can be done with just a full-body check-up, Your Majesty."
"Eeee--! No full-body check-up! No full-body check-up! Guards, guards! Someone come and guard me!" 　　"
Let's start with the gastroscopy. Hehehe..."
"Eeeeeea ...

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【Sumia War Song】(Chapter 2) (02-04) Author: indainoyakou

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