Ch.3The Saint of All Russia

# The Road Ahead

What matters now is what lies ahead.

Should I escape from this place?

In a few days, Alexander Kolchak’s White Army will briefly recapture Yekaterinburg anyway.

Then Trotsky will reorganize the Red Army and counterattack to take it back.

“Hmm.”

The nearest White Army territory is directly east from here.

If it’s close, perhaps it’s the Don region.

I’d need to head south from here to reach the Don Cossack territory.

I need to think.

Knowledge should come flooding back.

I try to recall world history and Russian history that I read while killing time in the library.

Right.

The leader of the Don Republic is Pyotr Nikolayevich Krasnov, I believe.

That place will eventually be occupied by the Red Army too, so it’s dangerous.

So where should I go next?

I need to move toward the White Army, avoiding the Red commies as much as possible.

I should head toward Siberia, somehow catch a train to Vladivostok, but looking at my current state, it’s obvious I’ll attract attention for a while.

Then, something unexpected happened.

“In the name of Comrade Lenin, we will cut off the last bloodline of the cursed Romanovs!”

Ah, the Bolsheviks.

How many assassination attempts must I endure when it wasn’t even in my destiny?

Those damned reformed commies have spread rumors everywhere, making me look ridiculous.

No matter what, Nicholas II was the one who did wrong, so isn’t it too much to blame his child too?

At this point, it’s all clear.

They’re pointing a gun at me from close range.

The reformed commies try to stop it, but naturally, they couldn’t be faster than a bullet.

Or rather, the man with the gun is also a commie, so it’s all the same.

Bang!

Honestly, at this point, wouldn’t dying be one option?

This is like being inside a game. I’m playing a hard mode game as the character Anastasia, where dying once means game over.

So if I die, I should return to my original state.

That’s what I thought, but…

This body doesn’t die even when shot.

It’s not like I’m surviving as a zombie with wounds, but literally, bullets have no effect on me.

Like a divine shield that deflects everything, the bullet touched my head and simply fell away.

“Oh! The Grand Duchess is unharmed!”

“She is blessed by the Lord, the Saint of All Russia!”

“Grand Duchess! Please touch and comfort my sick child!”

Just moments ago, these same people had various reactions to me—”Is she really the Grand Duchess? What good is being the Tsar’s daughter? How pitiful.”

And now they’re completely changing their attitude.

I know they had to insert this unreasonable setting because otherwise Anastasia would be hopeless right now.

If that’s the case, they could have just had me possess a different character.

After dealing with the mute assassin commie, I thought I could just quietly pass by, but people keep reaching out their hands.

Was this White Army territory? I’m not sure.

I was originally non-religious.

I know nothing about the Lord’s love or whatever.

So from now on, I’ll just wing it.

“Grand Duchess, please hold my hand just once!”

“Grand Duchess! Grand Duchess!”

I held the hands of elderly people who asked me to hold theirs. I also held the hands of sick children.

This is purely showmanship, just an act to improve my image, but…

Something amazing happened.

Life returned to the eyes of starving, emaciated elderly people who seemed on the verge of death.

A boy who was unconscious from some unknown illness suddenly got up from an old woman’s arms.

The hungry and starving felt their hunger disappear.

“My stomach feels full even though I haven’t eaten?”

“I’m overflowing with strength.”

“Oh, Grand Duchess, my child has come back to life! Grand Duchess!”

“She is truly a saint!”

What nonsense. Are these people crazy?

Is this like the skull water of Great Master Wonhyo?

This was the moment when the name Anastasia was about to be remembered as a saint.

Fine. If you want to call me Anastasia even if your head is cracked open, I’ll let you.

I stood before a makeshift podium hastily assembled from wooden boxes.

And then…

Before all these lambs, I spoke softly with a nightingale-like voice.

“Imperial subjects, lambs of the Lord.”

Carefully, with a voice designed to sound pitiful and gain sympathy.

I cautiously addressed these unfortunate people who were once imperial subjects and now didn’t know where to go, who could be swept up by the red plague at any moment.

“The red plague that denies God is about to invade this place. They try to persuade the subjects with sweet whispers of workers’ liberation, but you must never be enchanted by their evil clutches.”

Just improvising. I know nothing, but somehow I speak clearly, as if God has granted me these words.

I pour out nonsensical words that were just generated in my brain to these “lambs of the Lord.”

“You may curse and mock me, my father, the Tsar who was shot for his incompetence, my siblings, and the imperial family. However, the Bolsheviks are trying to subjugate workers to their own established system. This is neither liberation nor granting workers’ rights. They only want workers as slaves, obedient slaves.”

The Bolsheviks are absolutely evil.

They will demand obedience more cunningly than during the imperial era.

Russians will live submitting to them without even realizing they’re being subjugated.

“That’s how they will push authoritarianism armed with idealism, calling for worker solidarity. Anyone who doesn’t obey the Party, anyone who rebels with even the slightest complaint, will be mercilessly oppressed.”

You will be thoroughly manipulated and exploited by the Bolsheviks!

Anastasia is simply saying that.

“Don’t be enchanted by their words and submit to them! You must fight! Follow me, at least until we defeat that red plague. I promise you: liberation of the serfs! Land reform and workers’ rights in the name of the Romanovs—no, don’t believe in the Romanovs, believe in me as an individual. I guarantee it in the name of the Saint of All Russia! For the future of the Russian people! We will move forward!”

If I fail here, I can just pretend to be disappointed and leave.

Naturally take a train to White Army territory and find a way to get to America. Since I have no connection, I can’t directly help Korea’s independence, but I could at least mention it later.

To be honest…

Would people easily believe the words of the youngest Romanov daughter who’s desperately trying to survive?

I don’t think so.

After all that Russians have suffered under the Tsar, would they believe this Anastasia?

“We will follow the Grand Duchess!”

“We will trust the Romanovs once more, Grand Duchess!”

“Hurrah for the Saint of All Russia, Grand Duchess Anastasia!”

Huh.

I can be certain.

The Russians here, these people trying to become lambs of the Lord, would follow me even if I personally cracked their skulls while claiming they had demons in their heads.

Yes. Perhaps this is the golden time.

Before the red plague completely spreads, there are still those nostalgic for the imperial era.

As I was pondering what to do with them…

A thought suddenly occurred to me.

Where are the Bolsheviks who manage this city?

I guess those brainwashed Cheka agents were the ones who brought me out.

They say the administrative power was weak in the early Civil War, and that seems true.

Or maybe they retreated because of the White Army?

Anyway…

This means I’ll become a symbolic figure for the White Army in the Civil War.

But whatever promises I make, the war will ultimately be fought by White Army commanders.

Pyotr Wrangel, Alexander Kolchak, Anton Denikin, Roman von Ungern-Sternberg, Grigory Semyonov.

Among them, Kolchak’s White Army will recapture Yekaterinburg soon.

I don’t even know what month or day it is exactly.

I have no idea how far Kolchak’s White Army has advanced.

The Bolsheviks probably won’t just sit still either.

Those idiots hastily executed the Tsar’s family because they feared the imperial family would become a rallying point.

Then, wouldn’t they go crazy trying to kill the remaining Grand Duchess?

At this point, those bastards must be consumed by rage.

As evidence, more people trying to kill me have appeared.

They might try to squeeze out every effort to kill me.

Maybe I should test the waters.

These cracked-headed people might be useful in filtering out the commies.

“Saint! There are still many Bolsheviks here!” an old man shouted.

“Bolsheviks?”

“There are still those who want to find and kill the Grand Duchess!”

How does history unfold?

Shouldn’t they be retreating at this timing? Isn’t that how Kolchak’s White Army was able to recapture the city, even if briefly?

Ah, I see.

It’s all about perspective.

The Bolsheviks hastily executed the Tsar’s family fearing they would become a rallying point for the White Army.

After killing everyone, one survivor could still cause trouble.

Although she’s a woman, Russia has had female rulers like Catherine—the Tsarina existed.

They would try to capture and kill her by any means.

So even if Yekaterinburg falls to the White Army, they would still try to kill the Grand Duchess somehow.

There might even be some among these people who would have handed over the Grand Duchess if they found her.

However…

These people have clearly witnessed a miracle right before their eyes.

So they believe that going against me means going against God, and they feel they have no choice but to follow me.

In a situation where they’ve already chosen submission, these are Russians who have been under imperial rule for a long time, despite all the terrible things that happened.

So they have no choice but to choose this side.

During the Civil War, the White Army was close to being a warlord group, but there were also Green Armies and Black Armies that attacked both Bolsheviks and White Army.

They might be here too.

Anyway, since I have these cracked-headed subjects, I should secure this place as a base.

That way, I can create meat shields until the situation improves, then flee straight to Vladivostok.

Of course, I probably can’t run as fast as the Korean King Seonjo who mastered time and speed.

Until then, I should at least pretend to fight.

Yes, the Bolsheviks aren’t the only ones good at agitation.

Again, what if things don’t go my way?

I can just run away now.

“Blessed subjects of All Russia. If you’re willing to give me another chance, we must expel the red plague from this place! For Yekaterinburg to become the center of a new Russia, we must squeeze out that pus, so subjects, take up arms!”

And so the Russian subjects became volunteer soldiers.

Whether out of genuine loyalty to the Romanovs, or because they became fanatics after seeing God’s miracle, or out of fear of God, they began to follow me.

The Bolsheviks of Yekaterinburg were captured.

Looking at the face of the commie kneeling before me, I feel a sense of exhilaration.

Their faces are full of hostility.

Well, before the effect wears off, let me use this body a bit more.

“It seems you want to kill me.”

“As expected of the imperial family that was manipulated by Rasputin! How dare you deceive the people like this!”

“That’s rich coming from you, isn’t it? You who seized power by agitating with sweet words.”

How dare you flap your lips.

You cockroaches.

“Look carefully at who you’re dealing with.”

I took the gun that the Bolshevik was holding until the end and aimed it at my own temple.

Bang!