Ch.337Checkmate

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For a while, I stayed in Iran and developed concrete plans for establishing an Islamic-Hellenistic Federation through the alliance of Iraq and Iran.

Ridiculously enough, I became the central figure of this effort.

After the terrorist attack at the mosque, everyone followed me obediently without a single complaint.

I also developed close relationships with White Army generals and Iranian-Iraqi military officers.

“Russia’s wave of steel overturned Europe in an instant.”

“That’s right. Even when we Russians beat a dog, we beat it with full force. And the Arab world, being the cradle of ancient civilization and still a major power in the world today, would face tanks, bombers, and naval fleets. We might even launch nuclear weapons.”

“Indeed, indeed. Your country truly intended to accept us as friends.”

“Yes, that’s right! Hahaha!”

What good does all this boasting do?

Those Iranian and Iraqi officers too. If you think about it, they should be the ones with grievances, yet they’re mingling and making a fuss.

Of course, we eliminated all the resistant factions, so naturally only yes-men remain, but still.

“General Zhukov. Any updates from the Greek forces?”

“They’ve just entered Afghanistan.”

Entered Afghanistan.

So the Greek forces have finally entered the empire’s graveyard. I wonder what will happen next.

The report I received from Beria must be a few days old by now, so the Greek forces must have advanced further.

“Hmm. Isn’t it too late?”

Why don’t they hurry up and fight? I’m curious about what will happen.

The empire’s graveyard? The invincible Greeks, who call themselves the Neo-Hellenistic Army, have now crawled into the empire’s graveyard?

What will happen? How will it turn out?

This is something I can’t help but be curious about.

“Shouldn’t we get good results soon?”

“I’m really curious about the situation in Afghanistan.”

Very curious. Extremely curious.

Who knows? Maybe the Greek army will have gods from Greek and Roman mythology appear to help them destroy Afghanistan.

“Can Afghanistan really stop the Greek army?”

From my perspective, they might be able to. Why else would Iran and Iraq try to draw in Afghanistan, which has no power on its own?

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

Panjshir is such a hellhole. Even the Soviet Union couldn’t occupy it despite using all its might.

In the original world, the Afghan National Resistance Front beat the Taliban in Panjshir.

Of course, Panjshir was quickly taken due to the sudden intervention of Pakistan or somewhere, but anyway.

I’m not sure if it’s possible here.

I alternated between feeling tense, anxious, and angry.

During this time, perhaps annoyed by the men talking about war, Queen Soraya Esfandiary-Bakhtiary of Iran took time to speak with me.

Just entering her early twenties, she was a very energetic young woman.

She was born to an Iranian father and a Russian-German mother.

I’m not sure how she ended up connected to the Shah of Iran, but it’s probably similar to the original history.

Most human relationships haven’t changed from what I’ve seen.

Except for Vladimir and Frederike’s marriage.

“So the Tsarina has been fighting in wars since she was a young girl.”

Soraya seemed deeply interested in my war experiences.

“Yes. Rather than calling it noblesse oblige, back then I was simply leading the White Army to survive.”

I was a reckless girl who only believed in being invincible.

That’s the simple way to look at it.

“Well, if you saw the bodies of your family members. You couldn’t help it.”

“I have no intention of leaving a single communist alive in this world. That’s why I executed Lenin and other communists by firing squad.”

Ah, I can never forget that exhilarating feeling.

Of course, the White Army wasn’t normal either, but communists absolutely must not exist.

Some say that communists changed social perceptions about workers. But those who survive are justice and ideology itself.

It’s nonsense to think we should learn lessons from communists and let Lenin take power. Absolutely not.

And even without the Soviet Union, there were German communists. They failed even more miserably than the Soviet Union in the original history.

“So this is what happens when you believe in communism.”

“Yes. Although Iran won’t face a communist revolution as long as the Roman Treaty protects it, I’m still worried about potential religious issues.”

I’m still concerned about extremists. In a different sense now.

For example, look at me now.

I’m being treated like Allah, and I’m curious about how the Islamic world will change in the future.

“Surely not. But, I was wondering…”

“Do you have a question?”

What is our queen so curious about?

“I notice you mainly wear military uniforms.”

Well, I do think of myself as a woman now, but I still find pants more comfortable.

Dresses feel fluttery and like I’m not wearing anything below, which is a bit uncomfortable.

“When I’m in the palace, I wear comfortable clothes, but pants are just more convenient. Ah, it’s like this. Having experienced such a terrible civil war when I was young, I always feel the need to be alert.”

Hearing my words, Soraya looked at me with pity.

I can even feel her sympathy, but isn’t she about 30 years younger than me if she was born in the 1930s?

It feels a bit strange to be looked at that way.

“I understand. That makes sense. But I’m curious about something.”

“Please ask.”

“How are you so young, Your Majesty? You look even younger than me.”

“Well, I’m a saint. As someone recognized by God, I don’t age. Just kidding, I don’t know either.”

I didn’t want to be too obvious about claiming to be a saint, as it might seem distasteful.

“But it truly doesn’t make sense unless you are a saint.”

“Just think of me as not quite human.”

I am not human. That should be enough.

“Well, since you mentioned being a saint, may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

This is when I get really nervous.

Look at those sparkling eyes. She clearly wants to say something.

That’s exactly the face people make when they want to ask for a prophecy.

“Actually, I’ve been unable to have a child.”

In other words, she can’t get pregnant right now.

Hmm, didn’t Pahlavi II have three queens?

I know the current queen is the second, so is it because of children?

As far as I know, I haven’t heard anything about her dying.

That must be it. She’s probably infertile. That’s why he took a third wife, for children. If there’s been no child for years, that would make sense.

I don’t know much about this culture, but isn’t royal marriage primarily for producing heirs?

Then they must have been diligently trying every night. Should I probe a bit?

I looked at her with a deliberately serious expression.

“May I speak frankly?”

“Am I infertile or something like that?”

Well, she probably already sensed it herself.

At the very least, she must have felt that she currently can’t have children.

“Yes. That’s why you need to prepare from now on.”

Hearing my words, she hesitated before finally speaking.

“Should I get divorced? But I love my husband. I love the king.”

Yes. Love. That’s nice. From what I can see, they truly love each other.

They clearly look like a harmonious couple.

So, what should we do? With history changing, I’m not sure what will happen next.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, you should follow the European way.”

“The European way? What would that be?”

The European way. It’s simple.

Just look at the Roman Treaty that currently leads civilization in this world.

What about the monarchies in the Roman Treaty now?

In Russia, I’m the Empress; Britain will soon have a Queen; Germany has an Empress; and Turkey has a Calipha, though not a complete Sultan.

In other words, Europe has now become a very favorable environment for future female rule.

“Europe is now in the age of empresses. There’s me, Anastasia; Victoria Louise of Germany; Turkey has a female Calipha; Britain will soon have Queen Elizabeth. It seems almost due to my influence that this has become the age of empresses.”

Do you understand what I’m saying?

Yes. I’m suggesting that the next ruler could be an empress.

“Then if we make my stepdaughter the heir…”

The queen swallowed, catching my meaning.

“That wouldn’t be bad. You’re closer to Europe than Iran, aren’t you?”

She clearly seems to identify more with Europe.

She might have adopted some Iranian Islamic identity due to her marriage, but still.

At least from my perspective, this woman has a much stronger European vibe than Islamic.

“Yes. Iran still feels unfamiliar to me. Though I love my husband.”

“Then I’ll support you, Queen. As the one revered as Allah in Iraq and Iran, and as the Emperor of Rome, I will personally support you.”

The Roman Emperor’s support.

This isn’t just vaguely siding with and sympathizing with a woman whining about wanting the next monarch to be female. This comes with the heavy weight of the Roman Emperor’s authority.

Is there any force within Iran that could overcome the Roman Emperor?

Right now, people are even calling me Allah or something. In this situation, who would dare defy me?

It’s unthinkable.

“Then I should make my daughter the Queen of Iran.”

“Yes. If major European countries can install women as monarchs, what difficulty could there be?”

“But we need to consider Iran’s domestic situation.”

Yes. Within Iran, there might be opposition to crowning a daughter as queen for various reasons, including Islamic ones.

Perhaps even her husband might betray her.

But you know, that kind of challenging spirit is important.

Look at me. I took the rotten White Army, who were nostalgic for the collapsed Russian Empire and wanted to revive it as either a republic or empire, and revived Russia as the United States.

Of course, I’m just a transmigrator.

I should speak correctly. Unlike me, this woman only has the throne issue at stake.

“That’s true. But with the Greek invasion, the Prime Minister’s faction has been destroyed, and the King’s faction ultimately needs the help of the Roman Treaty, right? It won’t be difficult.”

“Is it really alright for you to help us this much?”

“Why not? Though I’m the Roman Emperor, I’m a woman like you, Queen. We should help each other.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

My real intention is to help the queen install a female empress in Iran, earn her gratitude, and use it to our advantage later, but anyway.

“Well, let’s stop with the gloomy talk for today and make a toast. To the eternal friendship between the Roman Treaty and Islam!”

“To friendship!”

Yes. Things were good until then.

Until that night, when terrible news arrived from the Far East.

“Your Majesty, something serious has happened in Japan.”

Beria appeared with the most troubled expression I’d seen from him recently.

“What on earth has happened? If it were just an issue with East Japan, you wouldn’t have called me.”

If it were East Japan, America would be handling it, and there wouldn’t be any conflict with America.

I had told the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere nations, including the Balhae Federation, not to provoke America.

But it seems something even more serious has occurred.

“Yes, Your Majesty. It’s news from West Japan.”

“Don’t tell me Renya Mutaguchi…”

“Renya Mutaguchi has a message directly for Your Majesty.”

What could it be? Oh, damn.

“Damn it, he says they have no choice but to invade East Japan? Even though they’ve just been rebuilt?”

Apparently, communists within West Japan have been inciting people to save East Japan.

Does this make any sense? It’s quite strange.

“There’s quite a bit of support for this among the Southern Manchurian Army.”

I’m sure there is. The Southern Manchurian Army is a righteous army.

They’ve been under Renya Mutaguchi for a long time. Any troops opposed to Mutaguchi would have been sent to China or would be equally intoxicated with heroism under him.

“Damn. We’re screwed. There’s no choice here. We’re cornered.”

Trotsky, that bastard. Playing me like this.

“I can’t believe Renya Mutaguchi would manage a country like this.”

It’s a bit nuanced to blame Renya Mutaguchi. He’s also caught in this situation.

After all, he’s the hero Renya Mutaguchi.

Because he’s a hero, he couldn’t turn away East Japanese people crossing the border.

Though East Japan was taken, the Yamato people of East Japan are still Japanese. Hero Renya Mutaguchi couldn’t save them directly, but at the very least, he had to accept refugees coming across the border.

It would be difficult if communists infiltrated during this process.

“It’s probably not Renya Mutaguchi’s fault.”

He was simply unlucky.

If anything, it’s more my fault for not anticipating that Trotsky would go this far.

“Then what should we do?”

“Hmm. Hmm.”

There are a few options.