Chapter 422
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 422
Chapter Title: You Must Acknowledge It
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#422. You Must Acknowledge It.
The birth of the New Revolutionary Army.
The news spread like wildfire.
The Revolutionary Government tried desperately to suppress the rumors, but they couldn't silence the New Revolutionary Army's voice across broadcasts, the internet, and every other medium.
Reactions varied wildly.
Party members condemned them for sparking conflict amid the already chaotic situation.
Soldiers prayed for the safe release of captured Federal troops.
But the overwhelming majority response was sympathy and support for the New Revolutionary Army.
"The Federation Army committed looting? So our city could be next anytime, right?"
"The government called it an accident..."
"How can you trust them when they lie every other day?"
"That was the Russian Khanate, wasn't it?"
"They're all the same. They work us to death, take everything we have, and now they're looting too. What's the difference?"
The occupied cities were already brimming with resentment toward Moscow's forced levies and heavy-handed tactics.
Especially the workers whose workloads had spiked since the revolution—they now openly denounced the Revolutionary Government.
And among the Federation troops stationed in those cities, some hot-blooded soldiers didn't hesitate to give these "disloyal elements" a taste of justice.
Oppression by the military.
Victims from the resistance.
The explosion of pent-up grievances.
The result was simultaneous riots and uprisings across countless cities.
The Federation Army scrambled to contain the riots, but they lacked the manpower for peaceful suppression.
This was especially true since the Revolutionary Government had strictly limited firearm use after the Ishim precedent.
Some units managed to crush the unrest.
Others retreated.
In some places, the citizens overpowered them instead.
Amid the chaos, the worst cases were the units that defied government orders and responded with force.
"Open fire!"
"But the Party's orders..."
"Shut up! These guys just watched while we sparked the revolution, and now they're blaming the Federation? Those reactionaries are the Federation's enemies!"
Tat-tat-tat!
Whether they succeeded or failed in suppression, the fact that Federation troops had fired on civilians only worsened the situation.
In just a few days, the number of cities joining the New Revolutionary Army swelled to dozens.
The Revolutionary Government, which had squeezed every ounce of national strength and endured untold hardships to seize those cities, lost most of them overnight.
And naturally, that news spread beyond the Soviet Federation.
That was why.
As Yuna Kyung nibbled away at her krembo.
She blinked in disbelief.
[Uh, um... So, to overthrow a dictatorship, they started a revolution, and now to overthrow that revolutionary government's oppression, another revolution's broken out?]
"That's right."
[...What a total mess.]
It hadn't even been long since they'd achieved the revolution.
How could a double revolution erupt so soon? What had they done?
To the incredulous Yuna Kyung, Aynsha replied flatly.
"Classic Yekateriche."
[This whole disaster was caused by that airhead big sis?]
"Not entirely. But she cunningly instigated most of these riots. That's certain."
[Is that even possible?]
Yuna Kyung was skeptical.
Sure, the Seven Dragon Society's princess was a transcendent being who could topple nations single-handedly.
But orchestrating simultaneous riots like this wasn't just about raw power.
It required meticulously gauging and manipulating public sentiment.
Yet here she was, pulling it off alone—without clan members, aides, or even a hint of interest in the people's hearts.
It was hard to believe.
"It's possible."
But Aynsha stated it with conviction.
Any other princess? Maybe not. But Yekateriche? Absolutely.
"Yekateriche is a genius. Especially at finding and exploiting weaknesses—she outdoes even Li Chingwei."
If it had been Li Chingwei, she would've handled it more efficiently.
Even if it took longer.
Subtly steering public opinion.
Slowly devouring the Revolutionary Government from within.
Ultimately turning the General Secretary and top Party officials into puppets without ever showing her hand.
Yekateriche, on the other hand? Total chaos.
Crushing revolutionaries only to join them. Aiding the Revolutionary Government then sparking the New Revolutionary Army.
No consistency, pure whimsy.
But that's what made her less predictably dangerous than Li Chingwei—yet far trickier.
Ignoring efficiency.
Even sidelining her own goals.
She was a madwoman who could impulsively do whatever would torment her target most.
[And this time, the Revolutionary Government's her plaything?]
"To be precise, the Soviet Federation."
[...Turning a whole country into her sadistic punching bag? What kind of deranged psycho big sis is she?]
"Blame the patriarch if you're mad. Not my fault."
True to her mastery of evasion, Aynsha deftly deflected responsibility.
Yuna Kyung sighed in exasperation at the sight.
[The world's gone completely mad. She just keeps running, and now she's in a position to win the war.]
Just days ago, to catch the ever-fleeing Russian Army, the Federation forces had been marching through Siberia, even at night.
But now? They were in disarray.
The Federation had swelled from 100,000 to nearly 300,000 by absorbing local garrisons with each city captured.
The problem? Those troops were former revolutionary forces from each city.
With half ready to defect to the New Revolutionary Army at any moment, chaos was inevitable.
If Aynsha counterattacked now?
Forget 300,000—even 10,000 could crush them.
Victory had practically gift-wrapped itself from all the running.
"We don't know if we'll win yet."
[Huh?]
"The war isn't over. No word on the outcome."
[But at this point, isn't it basically decided?]
"Remember: A war isn't over until it's over."
As Yuna Kyung blinked in surprise.
Aynsha gazed westward with her transparently glowing eyes, her face impassive as she spoke.
"Which brings me to something I need you to do."
[...Me?]
The Kremlin.
Just months ago, it had been the dictator's palace—a place of terror.
After the Soviet Federation's founding, it became a symbol of revolution, where people passed with heads held high.
But at this moment.
No pride lingered for those inside.
Only gloom.
Like disaster victims whose storm-shattered windows led to fire, only just extinguished—now hearing of an incoming tsunami. Despair and hopelessness enveloped them.
And the darkest atmosphere hung over Sergei Sergei's office.
"St. Petersburg has fallen too?"
"Yes."
"Mikhail's been a command prodigy since the revolutionary days, yet even his unit couldn't buy time?"
"...According to the New Revolutionary Army's announcement, Brother Mikhail was sincerely persuaded and surrendered of his own accord."
"Of course... I forgot St. Petersburg's revolutionary leader was Mikhail's own brother."
Mikhail had been dispatched there to rule smoothly via family ties.
Who knew it'd cost them a full division?
For a Federation already short on reliable troops, it stung.
"The New Revolutionary Army's forces are no longer inferior to ours."
Bachemensky couldn't deny Sergei's words.
St. Petersburg was second only to Moscow.
Adding the other defected cities, their strength matched the Revolutionary Government's.
No—factoring in potential uprisings elsewhere, they surpassed it in territory and numbers.
No wonder the Party members were so dour.
And to top it off, another despairing fact loomed.
"I still can't believe it. The Elshar sisters pulling something like this..."
Elshar.
The genius sisters who had propped up the government.
Girls who'd shown more revolutionary passion than any Party member.
Though their time together was short, their sincerity was beyond doubt.
So when they learned Elshar was the New Revolutionary Army's leader.
The shock hit hard.
It planted doubts about their own revolution's righteousness.
And now, they'd handle the insane administrative backlog without her.
But Sergei showed no particular shock at the revelation itself.
He merely asked softly,
"Elshar aside, what of Brother Rino? Is he active with the New Revolutionary Army too?"
"Unclear. But with Elshar as their leader and Rino vanished... probably."
"...I see."
Why was that?
As if handed an ultimatum.
Sergei lowered his heavy gaze, silent for a long moment before speaking again.
"Brother Bachemensky, what are our odds of victory now?"
"You mean fighting the New Revolutionary Army?"
"..."
"Honestly? None."
"On paper, we still hold the advantage."
"Paper only. The people's hearts are with them."
Bachemensky sighed.
Without Elshar, the already chaotic administration was impossible without spirit aid.
Even Moscow showed signs of unrest.
War now meant gambling on whether finances, admin collapse, or betrayal would doom them first.
Even victory? Would a government that oppressed its people gain support?
And the Russian Khanate, bloodless so far?
If they stopped running and attacked, could a war-torn Federation survive?
"Teacher, you must acknowledge it."
Knowing there was only one answer, Bachemensky spoke quietly.
A fact everyone knew.
But no one had dared voice.
"Our revolution has failed."
"...I see."
Perhaps because he knew it too.
Sergei neither raged, wavered, nor despaired at the words.
He just murmured softly.
"So we've failed."
The man who'd devoted his life to revolution.
Now the target of the very citizens he'd sought to grant freedom and equality.
Bachemensky bowed his head.
And wondered.
How had it come to this?
'...If only we'd had the money.'
On Revolution Day.
If the dictator hadn't fled with everything.
With basic finances secured, they could've stabilized public sentiment and governed smoothly as planned.
But desperate fiscal measures had doomed them from the start.
'Even if we could've just fought.'
A real battle with the Russians.
Victory would've won hearts.
Defeat would've united them in crisis.
But their endless flight forced hollow "victories," draining supplies and losing support.
A bloodless revolution.
Triumphs without battle.
The irony of revolutionary failure left Bachemensky with a heartbroken expression.
That was why.
He lifted his head unbidden at Sergei's next words.
"But our failure doesn't end the revolution."
"...Teacher?"
What hope in this mess?
To the puzzled Bachemensky, Sergei offered no explanation.
He simply pulled a small box from his pocket, set it down, and spoke in a heavy voice.
"Brother Bachemensky, I have one final request of you."