Wang Zhong sighed with relief, as if he had completed a phased task, and was about to pick up his half-finished cola when Tukhachev suddenly said, “Judge, I have a request.”
The presiding judge said, “Speak, after all, you are not a traitor, and we will meet reasonable requests.”
It was a reminder to Tukhachev: take it if you’re called incompetent, don’t push me to change the sentence to treason, that would mean playing Russian roulette with your whole family—though His Majesty the Tsar who gave that order is already dead, the order hasn’t been rescinded.
Wang Zhong also stopped, curious about what Tukhachev was up to. As a result, Tukhachev looked towards him, and the two men locked eyes.
Tukhachev: “Since it’s the death penalty, I hope it can be personally executed by General Rocossov. General Skorobo and I were classmates, and when I was the head of the Suvorov Military Academy, he was the dean of academic affairs.
“We personally signed our names under his dismal report card that year.”
Wang Zhong frowned slightly. What, you want to add some ceremony to it?
Tukhachev: “Looking back now, his poor performance back then was only because he could not agree with our erroneous military thinking. He should personally put an end to this mistake.”
Indeed, upon victory, countless sages would argue for me.
However, to be honest, Wang Zhong didn’t harbor such direct hatred towards Tukhachev.
General Skorobo’s actions were equivalent to directly causing the death of his good brothers and kind old father, and Wang Zhong himself almost didn’t get away. His meticulously assembled troops were decimated by half in the encirclement.
Seeing him return, Wang Zhong was furious; he was so provoked that he almost drew his gun on the spot.
But Tukhachev, the anger that should have been vented had already been released at the Front Army headquarters. At that time, Wang Zhong nearly turned him into a spinning top with a slap—only because he was rather heavy, he didn’t end up spinning.
If it were Vasily with his slender build, he would have started spinning already; he might even have taken off spinning into the air.
So now, Wang Zhong actually didn’t harbor such great resentment to execute Tukhachev by firing squad.
But since the other party requested it…
The presiding judge looked at Wang Zhong, seeking his opinion.
Wang Zhong said, “Since you’ve made such a request, I can only agree to it.”
Tukhachev looked straight at Wang Zhong: “I know you once said at the military academy that if I broke through the defense line, you would come and kiss my boots. I really did fantasize about that scene. Now I should be kissing your boots, but please allow me to maintain my last shred of dignity.”
Wang Zhong: “Dignity? Go down there and talk to those fallen Ante soldiers, to those tank operators who died in their burning tanks about dignity, and see if they grant it to you!”
Tukhachev: “I will.”
Seeing that the two had no intention to continue their dialogue, the presiding judge knocked the gavel once more, “The execution will take place tomorrow morning, at the execution ground…”
At this moment, a bishop-ranked Judge whispered a few words in the ear of the presiding judge.
Thus the presiding judge looked at Wang Zhong, “His Majesty the Tsar and His Eminence Belinsky have specially authorized that the execution be held at the Suvorov Military Academy’s shooting range.”
Wang Zhong looked up to the Tsar’s seat by the windows above the tribunal.
Belinsky was standing behind Olga, and upon noticing Wang Zhong’s gaze, he nodded faintly.
Well, this is to confirm my influence over the military by executing Tukhachev. The roots of the Aristocratic faction in the military will be destroyed by at least half.
The presiding judge said to Wang Zhong,” The trial of General Tukhachev is concluded, and the trials of other officers of the Western Front Army who made mistakes during the offensive will take place when their units rotate out for rest and recuperation.
“That said, court is adjourned!”
After delivering his words, the presiding judge knocked the gavel forcefully, prompting the crowd to stand up and wait for the judge to leave.
Well, the Western Front Army now hosts a bunch of the quick-victory faction and the Aristocratic faction; Belinsky couldn’t wait to purge them all.
With such a tremendous defeat, the centrists within the Empire’s military couldn’t say much either.
Wang Zhong looked at General Tugenev in the jury box—Tugenev, in his recollection, was a representative of the centralist faction.
Although he was only a general, he had long been in charge of the key position of head of the Military Orders Department, with high prestige, and could now give direct counsel to His Majesty the Tsar, might even wield more influence than Field Marshal Boris, the Chief of General Staff.
General Tugenev also looked at Wang Zhong, and at this time, since the presiding judge had left the room, the jurors also left their seats to start chatting in groups—General Gogol and Major General Pushkin both approached Tugenev.
Wang Zhong thought, well, I seem to have the wide support of Russia’s literary world!
Meanwhile, not knowing what Tugenev said, Gogol and Pushkin both looked at Wang Zhong, all three of them nodding.
It seems that the centrists had their strategy figured out.
Just then, the tribunal bailiff said to Wang Zhong, “General Rocossov, you may leave the bench now.”
Wang Zhong nodded, then remembered not to forget to finish his cola.
————
December 18, Saint Ye Katerina Fortress, Suvorov Military Academy’s shooting range.
Although the sun was very low in the sky, it was indeed a fine day, clear and cloudless.
It was still bitterly cold, though; Wang Zhong had even thought about taking Nelly and her overcoat with him when he went out, to keep himself warm.
He wondered if she would, like some perfect and suave maid, employ a time-stopping skill if he really did so.
All the students of the Suvorov Military Academy had assembled at the shooting range, forming more than a dozen neat ranks.
The officers who came to undertake theoretical learning of the frontline were much less disciplined; although they maintained military posture, they did not adhere to the strict discipline of formation like the students, with many chatting among themselves.
But when Wang Zhong ascended the temporary viewing stand, everyone fell silent—you could literally hear the buzzing coming to a sudden halt from the officers’ ranks.
Wang Zhong: “Attention, all ranks!”
Accompanied by the uniform sound of heels clicking together, everyone’s gaze was fixed firmly on Wang Zhong.
He looked towards the viewing stand, making sure that His Majesty the Tsar, Grand Patriarch Belinsky, and all the senior military officials had taken their seats, before looking back at the rows of students.
——It’s time for a speech again; I feel like I’m always giving speeches this month.
But compared to the speech newbie I was before, who would stutter and have to pull together bits and pieces from here and there, I am now an old hand.
I can even step up to speak with just notes in my head!
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Thinking thus, Wang Zhong walked up to the microphone, “Today, we gather here to thoroughly settle the military blunders of the 38th principal. In the coming months, I predict a period of calm on the battlefield, lasting three to four months. The enemy likely won’t launch any large-scale offensives before May of 915. We will use this chance to conduct small-scale military reform trials.”
On Earth, the Soviets also reformed while at war—mainly because they had to, as their old troop formations had been nearly wiped out. When new troops were raised, reforms were implemented in the process.
At Kursk, the Soviets actually managed to bury the Sturmtiger under sheer numbers. The Sturmtiger’s elite armored divisions achieved an impressive kill ratio, but they were ultimately defeated.
It was after Kursk that the Soviets truly began to excel. The subsequent offensive campaigns were conducted rather well, with Bagration practically crushing the Sturmtiger. In the end, the Soviets halted only because their logistics couldn’t keep up.
Had they had American logistics, Bagration might have very well thrust through the Sturmtiger in one go.
Alas, the Soviet training on Earth took far too long, and the price paid was far too great.
Wang Zhong intended to change this situation.
In fact, he had already altered the course of the war somewhat. On Earth, the Soviets lost several hundred thousand men at Vyazma during Operation Typhoon, but with Wang Zhong’s defense of the Duva River alongside his brother troops, what would have been an encircled force was able to withdraw.
The seasoned soldiers from these units made it possible for Wang Zhong to envision forming a force composed entirely of experienced veterans.
Wang Zhong said, “In the two years before the war began, Tukhachev only had a superficial understanding of how to use armored units. He implemented a grand but impractical expansion policy, increasing the number of armored divisions from eighteen to ninety-six and the tank count to twenty thousand.
“These numbers became his bragging rights before the late emperor, elevating him and his accomplice, General Skorobo, to high positions!”
Considering the fact that the Tsar was actually executed had not been disclosed, and he was Ivan and Olga’s biological father, Wang Zhong still addressed him respectfully as the late emperor.
Wang Zhong continued, “Then these bloated armored divisions were utterly annihilated during the Prosen summer offensive. The five million-strong Ante Army, which only appeared to be a colossus with feet of clay, crumbled at the first surge of waters, and the giant without a foundation collapsed with a thunderous crash.
“What we must do is resurrect this giant. Now, is the starting point of rebirth! I believe this new army will sweep across our occupied homeland, sweeping through the entire Prosen Empire!”
Wang Zhong paused. Now an experienced orator, he instinctively knew this was the moment for a catchy slogan.
After a brief moment of thought, he declared, “From the river (Duva River) to the ocean (Atlantic), Europa shall be liberated!”
No sooner had he finished than some of the students, unable to restrain themselves, cried out, “Ura!”
A thunderous chorus of “Ura” resounded throughout the shooting range.
The noise even knocked loose some of the snow piled on the trees.
Just then, a prisoner transport escorted by three half-track vehicles entered the range, stopping before a temporarily constructed podium.
Upon seeing the half-track vehicles, Wang Zhong frowned slightly—weren’t those the famous American-made M3 half-tracks? Had the aid been shipped over so soon?
However, considering that even SPAM cans and cola had been delivered, the arrival of half-tracks seemed normal.
The doors of the prisoner transport opened, and General Tukhachev stepped out.
He was still wearing his military rank, which probably meant they intended to leave the nobility with a shred of dignity, avoiding complete denunciation and thus rallying a fraction of the aristocracy.
Wang Zhong, however, felt that since he had executed General Skorobo while he still wore his rank, doing the same with Tukhachev was consistent.
Tukhachev turned to look at the cadets gathered below.
At that moment, the cadets were still shouting “Ura,” with only those in the front row noticing Tukhachev’s arrival.
But the shouting quickly ceased, and everyone’s gaze fixed on General Tukhachev.
Wang Zhong asked, “General Tukhachev, do you have anything you wish to say to the students?”
Tukhachev shook his head, “No need. Let my blood fertilize the rebirth of the Ante Army through fire.”
Wang Zhong nodded, “Take him to the execution site!”
The Judge led Tukhachev towards the execution platform erected in the center of the shooting range.
Wang Zhong carefully inspected his pistol, determined to avoid a jam like last time.
Tukhachev stood firm on the execution platform. A Judge came over with a blindfold, but he shook his head, “No need.”
So the Judge stepped back.
All the Judges left the platform, leaving Tukhachev standing there alone.
Wang Zhong, holding the pistol, stepped down from the podium, advancing toward the execution platform with a standard military pace.
He felt all eyes upon him.
He ascended the platform and stood before Tukhachev.
Tukhachev looked at the gun in his hand, “Is that the same one used to execute General Skorobo?”
Wang Zhong replied, “Yes.”
Tukhachev remarked, “It looks like an utterly ordinary officer’s sidearm.”
Wang Zhong responded, “Do you know of a legend from the United Kingdom? It says that he who draws the sword from the lake is the King of the United Kingdom, but no one knows where that sword lies, though there have been countless kings.
“It’s not that the sword makes the man valorous, but rather that the sword wielded by a valorous man becomes ‘The Sword of the Valorous.’
“This pistol is the same. I used it to kill General Skorobo, to kill you, and in the future, I will use it to kill all the main culprits, including the Plathen Emperor. This ordinary officer’s sidearm will go down in legend as a mythical weapon.”
And then it will be used as a Holy Relic in a Holy Grail War.
Wang Zhong raised the pistol, aiming it at Tukhachev’s brow.
Tukhachev said, “Make sure you do as you say, General Rocossov.”
Wang Zhong assured, “I promise.”
He pulled the trigger.
The bullet entered Tukhachev’s forehead and exited through the back of his skull, drawing a long arc with the blood that sprayed onto the snowy ground below the execution platform.
Despite being surrounded by open plains, the gunshot seemed to echo in the silence.
Wang Zhong knew this was the bell announcing the rebirth of the giant.