Ch.246Hell

* * *

A Zhakon was dropped on Belgrade, and a Tsar Bomba on Paris.

Massive mushroom clouds rose over both cities.

The Anti-Comintern Pact forces, watching Paris from a distance at the front line, could only gape at its destructive power.

And Philippe Pétain, who had come deep into the front line facing the Commune forces, could only collapse at the sight of the tremendous explosion in Paris.

Even from what must be 100 kilometers away, it was visible.

What kind of weapon could this possibly be?

The nuclear shockwave could be felt even at this distance.

“The city of art, Paris. Our French capital. It’s inside that massive mushroom cloud.”

The Free French soldiers were forced to watch as the capital they were supposed to recapture melted in nuclear heat.

Pétain lost strength in his legs and collapsed as he stared at the scene.

Whatever power that mushroom cloud possessed, one thing was certain—all citizens of Paris must be dead.

“I’ve fallen for the devil’s whispers! She was the Saint of Death! Paris, which contained the entire history of France!”

He had heard that Tsar Anastasia’s achievements in Russia rivaled those of Joan of Arc.

Could it be that Joan of Arc, burned at the stake, had been reborn as Anastasia to take revenge on France?

Suddenly, all manner of wild thoughts came to him.

“General, you must hold yourself together!”

Charles de Gaulle tried to assist him, but all Pétain could see was Paris with its perfectly formed mushroom cloud.

So this was why the Empress had told him to end it with France’s own power.

At least that way, he wouldn’t be blamed in the future.

Pétain would be known as the one who borrowed weapons from Russia to end the Paris Commune with French hands.

But thinking coldly, if asked whether there were other options, there weren’t any.

The British forces were coming from the north with Commonwealth troops like during the Hundred Years’ War, some federation of Spain and Italy was moving from the south, and Russia had physically destroyed the Commune to tear France apart.

Sacrificing Paris to end the war and the Commune might not be a bad bargain, but the responsibility for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of civilians in Paris would remain.

At least for Belgrade, most citizens had fled after the king abandoned the country. But the casualties in Paris would be too terrifying even to count.

“Yes. Perhaps this is better. If we can preserve the country by sacrificing one city, it’s not so bad. I don’t have many days left. I’ll take all the blame. De Gaulle, you must govern France well in the future. You’ll face difficult times not just in war, but in unification.”

“General.”

Why must he still be alive to witness this horrific scene with his own eyes?

It’s because of those bastards Thorez and Comin.

Yes. It’s right that he takes full responsibility for destroying Paris before he dies.

Even though Paris was erased, at least the Free French government was recognized as the legitimate government and somehow maintained the mainland.

He should be satisfied with that.

“Does this mean Russia has obtained the power of God?”

That was the response from Mountbatten, who had joined the British forces at the Belgian front, as he watched the overwhelming destructive power.

Following the Empress’s warning, he hadn’t seen it directly, but a massive flash had briefly flickered, and after some time, Paris was engulfed in a giant mushroom-shaped cloud.

At first, it seemed like watching some kind of art, but despite never having seen such a sight before, he was certain that all Parisian citizens who had been there were dead.

He wondered how the Prime Minister in London would react to this sight.

The thought suddenly occurred to him.

The armies of the Low Countries, having reclaimed their homeland, were all speechless at the devastating situation unfolding in the neighboring country.

Of course, France had been a traitor in this war, but there was still the Free French government, and the scene of an entire city being erased was inevitably shocking.

They had already detonated one in Belgrade, proving that such weapons weren’t limited to just one.

Though it was Pétain who approved it and a Free French pilot who dropped it, the bomb was Russian-made.

Russia claimed they were “supporting” Free France with weapons, but in reality, it was a choice made by Pétain at headquarters, who had succumbed to the Empress’s threats to preserve his country.

But no one dared speak of it freely.

‘Nations that defy the Tsar disappear from the map.’

All responsibility would fall on Pétain.

Even Russia’s White Army whispered among themselves about this tremendous power.

They said it was fortunate that Russia possessed such weapons first. That this was the power of His Majesty the Tsar. That the Mother had exercised divine authority because she didn’t want her children to die.

However, everyone implicitly felt one thing:

That this war was over.

A body without a head cannot move forward.

No matter how desperately they might want to fight, with that level of destruction, even Gamelin’s Commune forces would know that Paris’s leadership was finished. They wouldn’t even be able to contact Paris. If White Army soldiers were this shocked, how much more so would Gamelin be, having seen the explosion in Paris from closer than the Allied forces?

While headquarters was still dazed by the mushroom cloud over Paris, only Anastasia remained calm.

Calmer than ever before, with an expressionless, cold face as if she had abandoned all human emotion.

That beautiful face, still maintaining the appearance of someone in her twenties, showed no surprise at this destructive power, as if she had already known about it. Her demeanor made the commanders of each country, except for the White Army commanders, shudder.

As if she already knew and had experienced such destructive power, no one dared to speak.

How could someone remain so composed after erasing an entire city?

Overwhelming fear and dread. Yet, that expressionless face, devoid of any guilt, inspired awe.

After a long moment of indescribable tension, the Tsar spoke while examining her manicured nails.

“Belgrade was meant to be a sacrifice anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Who is the commander-in-chief of the Commune and Communist German forces?”

Yugoslavia had been a sacrifice from the beginning.

This was something all the Anti-Comintern Pact forces had agreed upon.

The Yugoslav army had suffered defeat after defeat and was only defending Belgrade. Now that country was destined to completely disappear.

“Ah, yes. The Commune forces are led by Maurice Gamelin, and the Communist German forces by Wilhelm List, commander of Army Group A.”

“Demand their surrender. If they don’t comply, I will personally authorize the third bomb, Grozny, to be dropped on their heads. Tell them it’s their last chance to evolve from insects to humans.”

The fact that the bomb already had a name indicated that a third one was waiting.

The Tsar, who held absolute power in this war, had commanded.

Demand the enemies’ surrender.

Make them discard all weapons to protect themselves and their country, and surrender.

The Tsar forced them to make a final choice: to be insects or humans.

If those bastards acted like communists again, then tens of thousands of troops on the Red front line would melt away.

The Allied headquarters, with a trace of compassion, had to move quickly to inform the enemies of their last chance to become human.

With Paris turned into a hellscape and communications cut off, they had no other choice.

Even resolute resistance is only possible when there’s a will to fight.

“We surrender.”

The Red Front Army lost its will to fight after seeing that enormous mushroom cloud over Paris, and their command had no choice but to decide on surrender.

“Your Majesty, they have surrendered.”

Upon hearing the news of surrender, the Tsar folded her fingers one by one.

“These insect bastards only come to their senses when they’re beaten. As for entering Paris—hmm, two weeks from now would be good. It will be a city of hell, contaminated for a while. If our soldiers enter now, they might not be caught in the explosion, but they will develop physical problems. Have them enter later.”

They could be exposed to radiation if they entered the hypocenter without knowing the dangers.

The dangers of radiation wouldn’t become widely known until well after World War II.

Those who didn’t know this simply took the Tsar’s words to heart.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Two weeks later. She had even set the exact time.

The Tsar knew everything. Even the time when the feet of the living would be permitted to enter the hell that was Paris, where death swirled.

The Tsar kindly informed them about the dangers of radiation, the substance that created that hell.

While everyone was listening intently to the Tsar’s words,

The Tsar turned her eyes to the British Belgian Expeditionary Force commander, who dared not raise his head out of fear.

“Louis Mountbatten. Commander of the Belgian Expeditionary Force.”

“Yes, Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Tell the British forces to maintain only up to Normandy. Don’t let them enter Paris out of curiosity and get themselves killed.”

Because there’s no meaning in dying after winning the war.

“Yes, I will do so.”

In this moment, as if he were a subject of the Tsar rather than His Majesty the King of Britain, Mountbatten bowed deeply.

“Thorez and Goebbels are probably in a bunker, and if that bunker is extremely well-built, they might still be alive. Before we enter, mobilize the Spetsnaz to drag those two out.”

Setting an exact time to enter.

As if predicting all of this so naturally.

She said it would be unreasonable for people to enter Paris immediately—the city of art that had now showcased the art of hell itself.

“Your Majesty, very few civilians evacuated. It appears that the majority of civilians were caught in this attack.”

Drozdovsky reported after confirming through multiple aircraft that few refugees had left Paris, suggesting that civilian casualties would be high.

Yet the Tsar continued to smile coldly.

As if mocking the deaths of Parisian citizens. Russia’s Joan of Arc was just that—Russia’s Joan of Arc, not a saint of France.

“Isn’t their failure to evacuate a choice to live as insects, stemming from the presumptuous thought that they could withstand this war with what we allowed them? Their failure to flee is their own fate. It’s not our concern. We exterminated insects, not humans.”

Only insects were exterminated.

The Free French commanders weren’t without complaints, but they couldn’t say anything.

If they objected here, that Tsar would likely kill them, just as communists labeled those with different ideologies as reactionaries and killed them.

Above all, they had to submit now if they wanted to gain even a small piece of their homeland.

But.

“There must have been those who couldn’t escape because they were threatened by the People’s Army! This is—!”

De Gaulle, unable to contain himself any longer, finally stood up.

But the Tsar merely stared at him expressionlessly.

As if to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“General de Gaulle. Isn’t revolution the specialty of France, the country of revolution? You should have overthrown them this time too. Isn’t there a complacent thought underneath that they could withstand the People’s Army? Isn’t that why they succumbed to threats?”

Russia’s saint said that it was all the destiny of the citizens who didn’t flee Paris.

No one dared to refute that statement.

Because those who had suffered from the Red Front’s attacks were not few.

Above all, the Tsar was someone who had personally experienced the Russian Civil War and stopped the communist revolution.

Wasn’t she someone who considered the end of communism her life’s mission? No one could contradict her words, as she possessed divine authority.

“I am the Tsar of Russia, and each of my soldiers’ lives is precious. Even if certain victory is before us, I cannot throw away my soldiers’ lives to such arrogant communists. The life of one of my soldiers, armed with anti-communist spirit, is more valuable than the lives of tens of thousands of Paris Commune insects.”

The image of treating Russia’s enemies mercilessly as insects, not humans,

Saying that the life of one White Army soldier, your child, weighs more than tens of thousands of lives.

If that’s how it is, then so be it.

Who would dare say otherwise?

“I already feel sorry for bringing my children from that frozen land all the way to France to die, so how dare I be asked to spare the lives of communists? You reap what you sow. The French are receiving what they have sown. General de Gaulle, because of our civil war connection, I’ve been patient until now, but if you dare suggest that you would let my soldiers die to protect Paris, I cannot overlook it any further.”

That’s right. Not using nuclear weapons would mean first having to cross the front line defended by those stubborn communists, and second, engaging in urban warfare with communists even when entering Paris.

They had already shed considerable blood in Berlin; they couldn’t do the same here.

Perhaps anger management issues naturally resolve themselves in the presence of the powerful.

All de Gaulle could do was sit back down.

“And.”

The Tsar’s words were not yet finished.

What would she say next? The generals of each country listened carefully.

“Wasn’t it the French who killed tens of thousands of people and destroyed Paris, a city of tradition and art? Not me?”

That was also true.

In the end, Pétain had approved it, and a French pilot had borrowed the new weapon and dropped it on Paris to ensure the complete annihilation of the Commune.

It was a firm drawing of the line—the choice was ultimately made by Free France, not the Tsar.

Now all that remained was to hope for mercy or scraps from the absolute ruler.

That’s how much the power of nuclear weapons exceeded imagination.