Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 105 is both an end and a beginning.

"Hang the murderer!"

"Hang the murderer!!"

"Traitors! Those officials are traitors who betrayed the saint!"

Deafening slogans echoed from outside the window, along with the occasional sound of stones shattering glass. Qin Hao, who was hiding in his temporary lodging by the river, tightened the blanket in his hands.

As he rubbed his hands to warm them up, he looked at the few wet Easter eggs in front of him and let out a long sigh.

Sure enough, the diary remained untouched; the Tsar's treasure was not a Fabergé Easter egg.

I realized I had been taking things for granted. I had risked my life to this extent, and even with the help of that most beautiful woman, I almost didn't make it out of the icy river due to hypothermia.

It's fair to say that I was lucky to get through last night. If the ice had been broken a little thinner and the cracking had happened a little later, I probably would have been exposed.

If he didn't still have seven pieces in his hand, he would never have dared to take such a risk with a success rate of no more than 30%.

What to do next?
Should they hide their identities and escape St. Petersburg amidst the chaos, or stage a "resurrection" and fight those guys to the death?
The most crucial question is, how do I get back? Am I just going to be stuck in 1916 like this?

boom! ! ! !

A gunshot ripped through the air, and it seemed that an even more intense conflict had broken out outside.

"The military police opened fire!" "The military police opened fire!"

Qin Hao pulled back a corner of the curtain and peeked outside. He saw that the citizens were clearly panicked by the shooting, and the military police, armed with batons, began to disperse the crowd.

Just then, an old woman appeared on the street. Qin Hao recognized her; he had even fixed her roof before.

The old man glared angrily at the military policeman holding a stick, and held a black robe high, its ripped holes and dried bloodstains starkly visible in the wind.

The next second, the crowd erupted!!

"Those are Father Putin's clothes! They killed Father Putin!"

"These Tsarist lackeys don't care about our lives at all! They dared to murder a saint! We'll fight them to the death!!"

"Go! Fight to the death!"

"Ula!!"

"We don't want the Tsar!! We want Father Putin!!!"

"We don't want the Tsar!! We want Father Putin!!!"

"We don't want the Tsar!! We want Father Putin!!!"

The angry crowd's slogans were like a tidal wave. Qin Hao didn't know why, but his nose felt a little sore, and even though he knew he was faking it most of the time, his eyes still welled up with tears.

Crackle~ Crackle~ Crackle~~~
The sound of pages turning suddenly rang in my ears.

The diary appeared out of thin air before my eyes, and line after line of small characters gradually appeared.

Now you should know what the real treasure is, right? How could the will of the people be static?

Now, take your spoils and head home.

Fog began to rise around him, and his consciousness became hazy. In the final moments, Qin Hao suddenly wanted to take one last look at the people who were cheering for him.

He straightened up, opened the window, looked out at the street, and prepared to say goodbye to the approaching year of 1916.

Just then, someone in the crowd suddenly looked over, and then pointed in this direction with a look of horror. He shouted loudly, attracting everyone's attention.

But when people gathered around, there was nothing in the house except a wet blanket.
-
In late 1915, triggered by the assassination of St. Putin, a major riot broke out in St. Petersburg, with angry citizens storming government buildings and burning flags bearing the royal insignia.

Yusupov Palace was attacked and parts of it were destroyed. The Winter Palace barely survived the crisis under the guard of 400 armed police.

Afterwards, the Tsar ordered severe punishment for the nobles involved that night, and exiled several high-ranking nobles, including his own niece, to Crimea.

However, this action failed to quell public anger, and St. Petersburg remained in a state of turmoil for a full month.

But what is frightening is not just the behavior of the public.

According to eyewitness accounts, the saint seemed to have foreseen his death, drinking poison in public and calmly facing death after leaving behind a large number of prophecies.

The phrase "The empire is only one year older than me" was etched into everyone's mind like a doomsday countdown.

Also left behind were those few vague prophecies, which were later proven true one by one.

"When the ice and snow melt, what seeps out is not water, but the blood of the dynasty."

In March 1916, a general strike of workers broke out in St. Petersburg. The police crackdown resulted in 200 deaths, and the blood stained the melting snow.

The strike then spread throughout the country, factories were basically at a standstill, the Russian army's logistics system collapsed, and the rear basically lost the ability to supply the front lines. It could only barely survive on supplies from Britain and France, but that was a drop in the ocean.

"Under the blazing sun, the chess pieces on the board were swept away one by one, leaving only the lonely king."

In July 1916, the Russian upper-level power structure collapsed, with the cabinet changing hands four times in just three months, and Prime Minister Stimmer being sidelined. "The hourglass suddenly reversed, twelve grains of gold fell to the ground, and footsteps echoed in the corridors of the Winter Palace."

In September 1916, 12 generals were dismissed, and the Tsar once again went to the front lines. However, the number of troops available for deployment dwindled rapidly, and the number of recruits could not even keep up with the rate of desertion. Soldiers from various regions were drawn from elsewhere, and at its most difficult time, the Winter Palace had only 20 guards left.

The empress was mentally confused and even sleepwalked at night.

"When the bells of resurrection rang, the blade in his hand was reversed and finally plunged into his master's chest."

On February 25, 1917, when the Tsar ordered the army to suppress the citizens again, the Pavlovsky Regiment revolted, along with the newly expanded Novosibirsk 2st Regiment. Soldiers shot officers who were suppressing the masses and shouted, "We stand with the people!"
On February 26, a full-scale mutiny broke out, with the Warrens Group and the Lithuanian Regiment joining the uprising and seizing the armory, post office, and train station.

On February 28, the Tsar's special train was forced to stop in Pskov by soldiers.

On March 2, Nicholas II abdicated, and a provisional government of the bourgeoisie and a workers' government were established simultaneously, an event known as the "February Revolution".

As the double-headed eagle banner fell to the ground and the panicked nobles scattered in all directions, they seemed to see again that black figure who had been drinking and singing wildly in the golden hall.
-
Spring 1920, The Ritz Hotel, Paris.

This hotel was built by the Swiss and is known as a gathering place for exiled nobles, artists, and the wealthy.

The war had just ended, and the place was filled with a scene of peace and prosperity. The wealthy, who had lived in fear because of the war, seemed to want to make up for all the days they had lost, and they spent twice as much money every day.

Men wave their money around, searching for their own romantic encounters; many are willing to spend lavishly for beautiful women.

A beautiful white woman walked into the hotel, immediately attracting the attention of all the males.

She had fair skin, slender legs like pencils, and a long neck reminiscent of a noble swan. What was most alluring was that she also had a pair of captivating eyes that would make any man's mind wander.

However, this beautiful woman was dressed very simply, her beautiful figure wrapped in a neutral trench coat, and she wore no jewelry at all.

Her distinctly Slavic features immediately identified her as a target for experienced hunters—a woman who had fled from Russia and was probably in dire need of money.

At this moment, the girl was like a plump rabbit, attracting the attention of the surrounding hunters who wanted to devour her whole.

The group of vagrants exchanged glances. One of them, who thought he had plenty of money, approached the girl. He stopped her, chatted for a few words, and then disappeared into a corner.

"Damn! That guy got it again!" someone said sourly.

But half a minute later, a sharp shout came from the corner.

"Get out! You horny dog!"

The man clutched his groin and rolled to the side of the road, while the woman took the opportunity to run away.

Call ~
In the corner of the corridor, Irina let out a long sigh of relief, then checked the food in the package before taking out her keys.

The door opened and a strong smell of alcohol wafted out. Her husband, the former Prince Yusupov, was lying dead drunk on the sofa.

"The empire's lifespan is only one year longer than mine..."

"The empire's lifespan is only one year longer than mine..."

The man muttered these words repeatedly, as if they were nothing but delusions, while the overturned wine glass beside him spun around.

Irina sighed, put away her wine glass, changed into flat shoes, and began cleaning the room.

It costs 10 francs a day to hire a maid to clean, and since her husband is now living off their savings, she should try to save as much as possible.

Life is the best teacher. I don't know when it started, but this pampered Russian heiress has begun to learn to be frugal.

"Felix, I've found a job as a tailor designer for a luxury store. I might be back a little later from now on," the woman said while preparing the food.

The man had his back to her and seemed unresponsive. Finally, Irina got angry, walked over, and pulled her husband up.

"Get up! Get up!" The once gentle and tender Grand Duchess now displayed a unique fierceness.

"Russia is gone! The Emperor is gone! How long are you going to stay like this?! All you do is sit here and do nothing but squander your wealth. You could at least help me in the smallest way."

After Irina finished speaking, she angrily shoved the bread wrapped in newspaper into his hands.

"Help me cut the bread! You should be able to do this job well!"

The prince rubbed his eyes, looked at his wife whom he seemed to no longer recognize, and finally did not dare to refute her.

He clumsily tore open the newspaper with his hands, preparing to take out the bread inside.

ba da~
The bread fell to the ground. Irina turned around and glared at her angrily. "Even if you don't eat it, you shouldn't waste food! Felix, I'm telling you..."

She then realized that her husband was behaving very strangely. The man pointed to a photograph taken on the battlefield in the newspaper, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

The prince kept repeating the same two sentences.

"He has come back to life..."

"He's still alive..."

(End of this chapter)