Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 69 Fall
The final exercise ended almost in a farcical manner.

The losers swaggered out of the trenches, while the victors hung their heads in disgrace, looking like a pack of defeated dogs.

As it turned out, Grand Duke Nikolayevich was humiliated and stood up to apologize to the Tsar.

Nicholas II sighed deeply, "It seems that some things are not accidental."

He then waved his hand and said, "Let it go this time, but Your Excellency's cavalry division must be on high alert, since the Germans won't give me a second chance on the battlefield."

"Your Majesty, I am filled with trepidation." The Grand Duke lowered his head once more.

Seeing that the purpose of the warning had been achieved, Nicholas II put on a different face. "There is some good news, Your Majesty. Our garrison did a good job this time. Which unit were they from?"

As a result, the Grand Duke's expression became even uglier.

Someone whispered something in Nicholas II's ear, and the Tsar's face showed surprise. "It's them?"

He then beckoned a servant over and gave him a few instructions.

A moment later, the priest in black robes walked to the front of the altar.

"Father Putin, I heard that the troops on the other side are the ones you once led?" The Tsar looked at him with interest.

"Your Majesty, that was merely a last resort when there was no other way out." The black-robed priest bowed slightly, showing no arrogance or haughtiness whatsoever.

"You are being too modest. I believe that if there had been a hundred Novosibirsk battalions, the outcome on the Masurian Lake battlefield might have been quite different."

After speaking, the Tsar looked at the Grand Duke and said, "Please pay attention to the next steps for these soldiers. Don't let down the warriors who shed their blood on the front lines."

The Grand Duke glanced at the black-clad priest beside him and said in a deep voice, "I will, Your Majesty."

At this point, according to the exercise regulations, all soldiers were to gather below the reviewing stand to pay their respects to the Tsar and the princes.

Alexei, who knew that the final step had been taken, visibly relaxed, and a bit of color returned to his pale face.

"Hurrah!" "Hurrah!" "Hurrah!"

After the soldiers lined up, they shouted in unison, while the soldiers of the Siberian battalion shouted with extra fervor.

Amidst the cheers, Lieutenant Kolkin, standing in the crowd with his horse, gripped the reins tightly in humiliation.

His life was over. His family forced him into military academy, and after he became an officer, they exhausted their resources to secure this opportunity for him to command the exercise.

But now he has become a laughing stock, being trampled on like wild dogs in the mud in front of His Majesty.

He was certain that within a week, whether in St. Petersburg or Moscow, he would become the talk of the town, and in the guise of a clown.

"Look there, that's the guy who got beaten down in the mud by a group of farmers."

The thought of being talked about like that made Lieutenant Kolkin feel like his reason was being burned away by the flames of anger.

hiss!hiss!
The warhorse beside him began to shake its head restlessly again, which became the last straw that broke the lieutenant's spirits!
Bang!!!!!!!
Without warning, a whip lashed heavily across the hippopotamus. The horse, startled and in pain, broke free of the reins and charged straight forward!

"The horse was startled!"

"The horse is startled! Get out of the way!"

A soldier shouted from the crowd, and the soldiers parted like a tide to make way, while the warhorse charged straight out of the crowd.

Amidst the horrified gazes of the crowd, the warhorse crashed headfirst into a pillar of the reviewing stand.

Boom! ! !
The dull thud seemed to strike everyone's hearts, and the onlookers witnessed a horrifying scene. Crown Prince Alexei, unsteady on his feet, staggered as if trying to grab onto something, then collapsed headfirst to the ground.

*Thud*, dust flew up, and blood flowed out.

The Tsar stood up instantly, and Empress Alexandra covered her mouth with her hand, her face turning as white as a sheet.

"Oh my god! He fell!"

"Someone come quickly!"

"My God, what's going on?!"

A series of gasps of surprise came from the viewing platform.

"Make way! Make way!" The head maid was the first to react. She rushed over with her maids and the accompanying doctor.

What appeared before her eyes was a heartbreaking scene: Alexei was curled up below the platform, crying loudly, with large abrasions on his arms and legs.

The platform wasn't actually very high, only a little over two meters. If a child from an ordinary family fell from there, they would most likely only suffer minor injuries, and if they were lucky, they wouldn't even need bandaging.

But Alexei was different; his hemophilia meant that this level of injury could be fatal if the blood could not clot quickly.

The soft stretcher was brought over, and people lifted the Crown Prince onto it, quickly staining the white cloth with red.

"Have everyone disperse! Take His Highness the Prince inside the house, so that no one outside can see him."

"Pass down the message: no one is allowed to discuss today's events casually! Otherwise, they will be treated as German spies!"

The head maid demonstrated excellent professionalism at this moment. While others were in a state of panic, she not only arranged for the prince's treatment but also took care to suppress the spread of public opinion!

The stretcher was carried into the room, and the doctors followed with disinfectant and bandages, but they all wore troubled expressions.

No matter how noble his status, Alexei was just a 10-year-old boy. When injured, he would instinctively struggle, and at this time, both bandaging and cleaning could cause serious secondary damage.

He can no longer afford to get injured again.

The blood was still flowing, and the little boy's cries grew increasingly terrified.

"Where is Mr. Philip? Bring him here quickly!" The Queen grabbed the head maid's hand and cried out in a panic. At this moment, the first person she thought of was the French charlatan she relied on.

"Hey, Funa, take a deep breath, don't panic, I've already sent people to look for her." The head maid hugged the Queen, comforting her with the familiar address between close friends.

"He'll be alright, our little sun will be alright." Head maid Anna gripped the Queen's arm tightly, as if trying to transfer her strength to her.

Meanwhile, Philip had already been brought over.

“Master, please calm His Highness down so we can proceed with the next steps,” Chief Physician Fyodor requested of the Frenchman.

This wasn't the first time the two had worked together. Whenever the Crown Prince was injured, Philip would step in and use his "ability" to calm Alexei down, while others would then take further action.

Although these treatments sometimes seem more like what veterinarians would do, Alexei, once calmed down, did have experience with slow, spontaneous healing.

But the Frenchman shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't use my abilities today. There's nothing I can do."

Seeing the despair in the Empress's eyes, he hesitated for a moment before adding another sentence.

"But there is someone who might be able to."

(End of this chapter)