Ch.36The Saint of Petrograd

# At that time, the hardcore Bolsheviks in Petrograd were afraid of the White Army surrounding the city in layers, yet they had something to believe in.

Though they had lost the momentum to expand their power and were trapped in Petrograd, they believed the Tsarina would not easily attack the imperial capital, the place where the Tsar’s palace stood.

Of course, this didn’t mean they could turn the tide of war.

But if Petrograd held out, Bolsheviks across the country would rise up again.

That’s how they kept their hope circuit running.

The Bolsheviks remaining in the revolutionary city were truly communists to their core, their souls painted red with communist ideology.

For these hardcore reds, Anastasia’s offer of surrender wasn’t even worth considering.

“The reactionary leader, the princess, won’t be able to cross this place anyway.”

“She can’t destroy the Tsar’s city. Then she’ll have to enter the city directly, which is exactly what we want.”

“Let’s prove our revolution was right.”

“Comrade Trotsky will lead us!”

Indeed, Petrograd was the city where the revolution had begun, and even the true Bolshevik citizens who had gathered from all over were prepared to die here as revolutionaries.

But their high spirits didn’t last long.

BOOM! KABOOM!

Bombs fell from the sky like a shower, as if to brand them as bombing test subjects, dropping endlessly.

As artillery began shelling the city again, buildings collapsed in Petrograd, with people being crushed under them or torn to pieces by the bombardment, causing casualties to rise.

“Unlike her father, she has backbone. Does she intend to completely eradicate us?”

Trotsky clicked his tongue.

The revolution had essentially failed.

He acknowledged this, but even with that acknowledgment, he couldn’t stop here.

Imperialism and communism could never coexist.

One side must be completely uprooted.

Petrograd was the city where the revolution had succeeded. So they had to defend Petrograd to the death to show that the revolution was still alive.

Trotsky knew that if the White Army, which had begun to control Russia, gathered strength to crush the Bolsheviks, it would become a massive wave.

They would stop that fierce wave of imperialism.

They would prove that the revolution was right.

Did the princess know? That the mere appearance of an enemy of the revolution would make the Bolsheviks of Petrograd fight even more desperately.

With such determination, Trotsky tenaciously defended Petrograd.

Of course, regardless of this, Petrograd was being destroyed by overwhelming firepower.

“Comrade Trotsky. You must escape.”

The Bolsheviks urged Trotsky to flee again.

“Where would I go? Where on earth?”

It was already too late.

Comrade Lenin and Stalin had been captured.

They had failed to bring back Comrade Lenin, and Stalin, along with many comrades, had been captured.

Rumors said they had been executed.

What was the point of surviving alone in such circumstances?

“Comrade Rosa Luxemburg is preparing for revolution in Germany. If we escape through the North Sea first, then with Comrade Luxemburg—”

Talk sense.

Even Finland had sided with the reactionaries.

Now that fox-like princess not only held the title of Grand Duchess of Finland but also claimed the throne of Finland itself.

To escape would require considerable luck, and Trotsky had no intention of leaving this place anyway.

“No. We must not flee anymore. The German revolution is their revolution, and I will never break my resolve.”

The German revolution belonged to Germany alone.

The revolution had already failed in backward Russia, so what good would it do for him to go to Germany? He would just be a failed revolutionary begging for his life. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Comrade.”

“You should escape.”

Trotsky absolutely refused to move.

He didn’t deserve to escape from here.

Soon, the vengeful princess would lead the White Army reactionaries right into the center.

Then he would kill as many reactionaries as possible before dying gloriously.

Good. It would be nice to see the imperialist empress who had crushed Russia’s revolution.

Perhaps he could even seize an opportunity to shoot her and die together, which might reignite the revolution.

Thus, he would remain a martyr.

That was Trotsky’s final task.

Of course, only Trotsky thought this way.

‘If that man leaves, other communists will follow!’

Unlike Trotsky’s resolve, the other communists who had followed him had no intention of understanding him.

If not now, they would never be able to escape.

“Sorry, comrade.”

“What?”

Trotsky was forcibly dragged away by the communists who had come with him.

Shortly after, the Bolsheviks left Petrograd with an unconscious Trotsky.

# * * *

BANG! BOOM! CRASH!

Quite some time had passed since they had surrounded Petrograd and begun shelling it.

They still hadn’t sent in infantry.

The plan was to bombard as much as possible, then march in and hunt down the exhausted Bolsheviks.

The prolonged bombardment was turning Petrograd into ruins.

Roads, buildings were destroyed, and countless lives were lost.

“Lord, forgive the sins of those red patients through death.”

The red plague of Petrograd was being purified through death.

Some said they were destroying the city too much.

But apparently, by the time Yudenich attacked, everyone who wanted to evacuate from Petrograd had already left.

So only hardcore Bolsheviks remained.

They would not surrender or respond in any way.

They had to be thoroughly exterminated, just as Lenin and his followers had been executed by firing squad.

More precisely, I was curious about how Trotsky would act.

Did he plan to become a martyr for the reds?

Or did he plan to flee to another country, like Mexico as in actual history?

I didn’t have any particular thoughts.

Later, I realized that if Russia wanted to interfere somewhere, using the reds would be the answer.

Trotsky must pay for his crime of killing the Tsar’s family.

Rather than letting him die as a martyr, it might be better to weaken communism by using him for a while before killing him.

“Your Highness. Petrograd has essentially been stripped bare. It seems the infantry can enter now.”

Yes. Then we should go in.

“Let’s go in.”

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous for you to enter personally?”

It would be dangerous.

But I needed to prove that the Romanovs were still alive, that Princess Anastasia was not just a puppet Tsar put forward by the White Army.

There might still be those who saw me as just a hothouse flower of a girl.

I had to fight at the forefront myself.

“I must enter personally to show that the Romanovs have ended the revolution. Above all, I will not die.”

“If you insist, you should still enter with the soldiers.”

“I understand.”

Unlike before, bullets felt a bit painful now.

But at least I didn’t think I would die yet.

It just felt that way.

After the bombardment ended to some extent, the entire White Army force surged like a wave toward the now defenseless city of Petrograd.

At the front, I rode on horseback and shot the Bolsheviks who had been hiding from the bombardment and now emerged.

“T-the princess. Ugh!”

The red plague patients, who thought they could win with revolutionary spirit comparable to Japan’s Yamato spirit, all died with a single bullet.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I shot and killed every Bolshevik I saw who wasn’t wearing a White Army uniform.

Petrograd was isolated.

They lacked proper food and weapons.

The hungry ones, those who had barely survived the bombardment, died helplessly from my bullets.

They couldn’t even attack first.

They were too busy hiding from the White Army’s attack, so attacking first wasn’t an option.

Of course.

It wasn’t that easy.

As we entered the city and engaged in urban warfare, the fighting became more intense.

The Bolsheviks now knew their days were numbered.

With that resolve, they fought desperately, throwing away their lives.

Naturally, there were occasionally brave reds.

“It’s the princess! Kill the princess!”

There were those who went wild trying to kill the princess.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

As we entered the city, several reds jumped out from an alley and sprayed me with submachine gun fire.

“Ouch.”

The enemy’s bullets still did not permit my death.

It really hurt a bit, but no wounds appeared.

It felt like being rapidly flicked all over my body. Like being lightly beaten up.

“Your Highness! Huh?”

The problem was that this time, all the White Army infantry following me saw it.

Oh, but isn’t this really dangerous?

The princess is fine despite being hit by a barrage of bullets.

It seems like strange deification might happen again.

Ah, a good idea came to mind.

A good way to lower the Bolsheviks’ morale.

I spread my arms wide and proudly declared between the White Army and the enemy:

“Behold! I am the one and only saint of Russia chosen by the Lord! Bolshevik bullets are useless! They couldn’t even penetrate my uniform! Don’t they seem like bullets that can’t kill a single person?”

I am a saint, so bullets don’t affect me.

It has been revealed that Russia’s blessing is with me, Anastasia, not with the reds.

“Oh. That’s true.”

“Why did they even start a revolution?”

“They’re complete idiots.”

“They claimed revolution, but the Bolsheviks can’t defeat the saint with their Red Army bullets! This means the reds are incompetent! If such people had ruled Russia, Russia would have become the laughingstock of the world!”

The Bolsheviks are incompetent. The Bolsheviks are destined to fail. The princess has received the Lord’s blessing. Such sentiments helped boost the White Army’s morale.

“What the hell? Are these guns even capable of killing people?”

“Look, the princess is fine!”

“Damn it, how can we have a revolution without proper bullets!”

The Bolsheviks who had shot at me, perhaps hoping to boost morale by killing the princess, were surrounded by many enemy soldiers.

They were shocked, saying that even if I hadn’t received God’s blessing, they had made bullets that couldn’t properly kill people due to military supply corruption.

In an instant, the White Army’s morale soared even higher, and they poured bullets into the Bolsheviks. The Bolsheviks, who had been fighting desperately while hiding in the ruins just moments ago, seemed completely drained of strength and couldn’t even resist properly.

The Bolsheviks’ resistance gradually died out.

What was the point of fighting when they had no weapons, couldn’t harm the enemy, and would just die?

“S-surrender. We surrender.”

“If you wanted to surrender, you should have done so earlier. Die!”

The enraged White Army did not accept the Bolsheviks’ surrender.

I just watched silently.

I had clearly told them to surrender before, but they hadn’t.

And a surrender made belatedly, when they realized there was no point in fighting, isn’t a true surrender.

In the end, they were just trying to save their own lives.

The White Army did not forgive such enemies.

Bolsheviks were eliminated without exception throughout Petrograd.

Some tried to escape by taking hostage citizens of Petrograd—those who hadn’t managed to evacuate—but failed.

Then I had a question.

“Hadn’t everyone evacuated?”

“They were people who were trying to evacuate late but were taken hostage to work for the Soviets!”

To inflict maximum damage on the White Army in Petrograd, they needed to run factories.

It seems they put people in factories to prevent them from leaving.

“They’re insane.”

Now they were going all out.

No, they had already gone all out. They had already killed everyone who opposed the Soviets. Even in Petrograd, the Soviets had been very Soviet-like.

Indeed, the reds must be eliminated.

If we eliminate all the reds from Russian soil, there would be no Communist China or North Korea.

“Purify all reds you see.”

“What about Trotsky?”

Trotsky, right. He was here.

“Capture Trotsky alive, but if that’s not possible, kill him.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

I wonder if Trotsky will escape again.