Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 102 Killing Putin 3
There was no Christmas in St. Petersburg in 1916; it was a funeral in the name of prayer—burying bread and hope.

Perhaps there is still one dynasty's final dignity.

The streets were deserted before dawn. Even though it was almost sunrise, there were still no pedestrians in sight—body heat was precious, and even secret police were unwilling to go out at this time.

A carriage with gilded bronze double-headed eagle emblems on both sides of the carriage travels down the street. Its dark blue body and decorations embroidered with gold laurel branches and crosses indicate its unique status.

This carriage, much like the royal family at the time, drifted further and further away from the people amidst the wind and snow; the more luxurious it was, the more out of place it became with its surroundings.

"What? Father Putin has already left?!" Archduke Dmitry Pavlovich asked unhappily in front of the carriage.

As the emperor's cousin, he had already humbled himself to personally come to the Winter Palace to greet Father Putin in order to show his respect for him, but the other party ignored him and went out on his own?!
What does this guy take the royal family for?!
Did he really think that by controlling that German woman, he could do whatever he wanted?!

Thinking of today's plans, the Grand Duke suppressed his anger and asked his attendant, "Which direction did he go?"

"Your Excellency, Father Putin walked westward on foot half an hour ago."

"The west?" The Grand Duke frowned. A possibility suddenly arose in his mind—could it be that the news had leaked out and this guy had gotten the information in advance and run away?
If it were anyone else, they would just run away, but this guy has too much prestige among the citizens and the army. If he were to collude with those liberal reformers, there's a good chance he'd cause a huge mess.

Putting aside everything else, even just inciting a few battalions of soldiers to cause a disturbance would be too much for St. Petersburg to handle right now.

Thinking of this, the Duke dared not delay for a moment and shouted to the coachman beside him, "Quick! Chase after him! We must find him no matter what!"

Urged on by the Grand Duke, the carriage suddenly sped up, and the coachman even picked up the whip, which was practically just for show.

Just when the Grand Duke thought his guess had come true, a black shadow appeared in front of him.

At Peter and Paul Cathedral, a black-haired priest in a black robe stands in front of this massive, hundred-meter-high building, seemingly lost in thought.

Beneath the golden cross of the dome, the cold wind billowed his robe sleeves, making him appear as if he were floating in the air.

Recalling the legends surrounding this man, Grand Duke Dmitry couldn't help but swallow hard and called out from behind, "Father Putin, are you... are you alright?"

The other person turned around, and what the Grand Duke saw was a long, pointed beak.

Ah!
Grand Duke Dmitri exclaimed in surprise, only to realize upon closer inspection that what he saw was a large raven perched on the other man's shoulder.

"Sir, what brings you here?" the man in black robes asked, feigning surprise. He then glanced at the crow beside him and gave a nonchalant smile.

"Sorry, I startled you." The man in front of him waved his hand calmly, and the black bird took flight.

Looking at the somewhat strange scene before him, the Grand Duke had many questions in his mind, but in the end he said, "Father Pugin, I have come to take you to the banquet."

“It is my honor to have you come in person.” The priest in black robes bowed slightly, then said softly, “But please wait a moment, I have an appointment with my friends.”

"Your friend?!"

Grand Duke Dmitri wondered to himself, "Could it be some kind of crony who arranged to meet in front of the cathedral and I just stumbled upon them?"

Thinking of this, the Grand Duke suddenly became nervous, subconsciously looking at the guards following him, and even wanting to touch the pistol at his waist.

But the next second, the priest in the black robe smiled slightly and held up a finger. "Listen, they're coming."

A rustling sound came from around him, as if something was gathering in his direction, but for a moment he couldn't see anything. This eerie feeling made the Grand Duke tense up.

Something seemed to move in the corner of his vision. Grand Duke Dmitri turned around and saw a large tail hanging down from a tree branch—a long-tailed squirrel.

The squirrel glanced at the Grand Duke, paused for a moment, then hopped over and climbed onto the black-robed man's shoulder.

The squirrel squeaked in the man's ear, seemingly as if they were having a phone call. The priest in the black robe took a large acorn from his pocket and handed it to the squirrel, which happily held it up and hopped away, disappearing behind the dead tree.

The sound rang out again, this time from two Siberian grey foxes. They emerged from the corner one after the other and circled around the black-robed priest's feet, looking like two large scarves.

After each receiving a piece of jerky, the gray foxes let out a joyful cry and ran away.

More and more animals gathered, including gray rabbits, stray cats from the alley, and finally even the pigeons from the bell tower of St. Peter's Church fluttered down.

The priest in black robes took out a bag of corn kernels, gestured "please wait a moment" to the Archduke, and sat down on the ground in front of a large tree. The animals gathered around, each receiving a small portion of food from the man.

They gathered, dispersed, gathered again, and dispersed again, seemingly unafraid of the man before them. Even their natural enemies, wild cats and pigeons, harmoniously surrounded him.

Grand Duke Dmitri stared in disbelief at the scene before him, for he had never seen anything like it except in the scriptures.

After the last small piece of food was pecked away by the pigeons, the man in the black robe stood up and clapped his hands nonchalantly.

The animals that had just gathered scattered as if given a command, quickly disappearing without a trace, leaving only a pile of various footprints on the ground.

"Sir, I've finished my business. Let's go." The priest in black robes turned and walked toward the carriage.

Grand Duke Dmitry quickly caught up. "Father Putin, what are you doing...?"

"It's nothing. These are just some little creatures I've encountered recently. I just feel like this is probably the last time I'll feed them, so it took a little longer."

The priest in black robes then looked around at the scenery and said, "With cities like this, their winters must be very difficult."

“You have a compassionate heart.” Grand Duke Dmitri finished the conversation, but felt inexplicably nervous.

The word "last time" is too jarring and easily leads to other associations, but the other person doesn't seem to really know anything.

To avoid saying too much and making a mistake, Grand Duke Dmitri could only remain silent.

The carriage moved forward silently, but the scene that had just occurred kept replaying in the Grand Duke's mind like a movie.

The man in the black robe opposite them became increasingly mysterious.

At the same time, a grand banquet was being prepared at Yusupov Palace, with the host presenting a full set of silver tableware and precious porcelain to showcase his taste.

Hundreds of servants moved about, and the table was lavishly decorated; any one of the items could probably be worth a year's or even several years' income for an ordinary family.

While the chef asked his assistant to remove excess fat from the venison to prevent it from burning, the locals outside could no longer even afford to eat black bread with wood chips.

In the basement, surrounded by golden statues, Prince Yusupov personally handed a small bottle to his wife under the watchful eyes of several core nobles.

"Be careful, even a little bit of the poison inside can be fatal."

Irina nodded nervously, took a plate of cake, mixed the poison into it, then took a bottle of Madeira wine, poured in the poison, and shook it well.

“Alright, this dose is enough to poison two elephants. Let’s wait and see.” Prince Yusupov gestured to those around him.

He then patted his wife on the shoulder and gently comforted her, "Don't be nervous, everything will be alright after tonight."

People turned and left, and the basement became quiet again.

Irina sat there alone, the flickering lamplight blurring her shadow.

Her long fingernails pierced her palm, and in a daze, she seemed to see those eyes again, those seemingly all-knowing eyes.

The Grand Duchess touched the necklace around her neck and took out a small note from the pendant.

"The last time, the last time, this really is the last time." The young woman kept repeating the same sentence, as if she were talking in her sleep.

She took a deep breath, opened the note with trembling hands, and half a minute later, her chest began to heave rapidly.

"He guessed it all, he really guessed it all."

After talking to herself, the woman's eyes began to clear up. She accepted the food and wine and gripped the pistol in the drawer again.

"Darling, this is for our own good."

(End of this chapter)