I Became the Last Princess of the Brown Bear Kingdom

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The White Army, having shaken and toppled the Red Army after a period of offensive, momentarily withdrew.

The Black Baron planned to take this opportunity, while the Red Army crumbled in Moscow like a sandcastle, to regroup and launch a full-scale offensive.

However, the Reds’ camp was in turmoil.

“Something’s strange with the Reds.”

“It’s unfortunate. The infiltrated Okhrana has been discovered, and we can’t ascertain the internal situation.”

The Okhrana attempted to incite a rebellion within Moscow but, regrettably, it failed.

Was it because the citizens of Moscow still liked the Bolsheviks? Not at all.

The truth is, control over the citizens of Moscow was tighter than expected.

The Cheka thoroughly managed the citizens, executing anyone exhibiting signs of unrest on the spot.

“Perhaps they too are sensing their demise.”

“The ones who surrendered aren’t saying much.”

“It seems they quietly escaped when they had the chance.”

“Have we conducted ideological checks on them?”

“Yes. Out of ten, nine called Lenin a son of a bitch. The remaining one said he couldn’t.”

I had the defectors undergo ideological scrutiny.

After hearing negative remarks and curses directed at Lenin, I told them to curse him in kind and questioned their reasons for surrendering.

In reality, half of it was more like a test.

But to think there was actually someone who couldn’t bring themselves to curse.

It seems to show just how sweet Lenin’s honey pot appears.

“We might have to send those guys off to Siberia or execute them as a warning.”

“Understood.”

Hardcore Reds can’t be left alone like that.

Most would probably be headed for Siberia, but higher-ranking Reds should be made examples of.

While I had previously let Stalin go, I’d like to see him captured in this battle.

It would be splendid if he were caught alongside Lenin and Trotsky.

But then—

The ever-familiar gentleman from the US military showed up again.

“Hey there, Princess.”

“What is it this time, Fighting Rooster?”

Ah, Patton, this man. Even though I am a princess, isn’t it a bit rude of him?

Is he here for another reason? No, seeing him chase Ungern and take down the enemy, I can guess why he has come to me this time.

It’s because he wants to cut off the survival free tickets for slaughtering Moscow’s Reds.

“I’m not a Fighting Rooster; I’m Patton.”

No, but this situation is different from Ukraine.

The Reds have proven they can gather troops of this measure! They’ve gathered all the populace to defend Moscow.

Surely, he doesn’t think he can charge alongside a handful of American troops like before.

Even Ungern had taken the route around Moscow to catch any Bolsheviks trying to retreat.

He was lucky on the Ukrainian front.

Above all, we must retake Moscow.

Patton’s forces cannot be seen as anything but volunteers.

Moscow’s recapture must be achieved by the White Army itself to hold any significance.

“Retaking Moscow is my destiny, and it is a goal the White Army must achieve. Do not say you’ll participate in the battle with just a handful of US troops.”

German forces have also inquired about participating in the battle for Moscow.

With their status as a defeated nation, it’s suspicious how they are trying to insert themselves here.

It seems the British Army is handling the Reds’ attacks in their territories in the Baltic, so they can’t participate here.

“No, I’m a veteran of the Great War. I’m not unaware of that. I’m just asking you to handle the aftermath.”

“Aftermath? What are you hoping for?”

“That is in case they attempt to flee Moscow.”

“Ungern, I can’t lose to him.”

Hmm. Is it bad if I refuse too hard?

While I might feel a bit sorry for them if they fail to achieve anything at all, it could be a possibility to catch fleeing Bolsheviks with Ungern.

“Then try to catch any Bolsheviks trying to flee Moscow, just in case.”

“Hahaha, I shall do that!”

Look at him, excitedly dashing out.

Is this man really okay acting this way?

Should I summon him back now?

If I were to choose sides here, it would be with Ungern since I’m the Russian princess, not with that man.

I turned my gaze outside the barracks, staring into the distance towards Moscow.

Watching the towering flames from artillery and aerial bombardment in Moscow, I felt a strange sensation.

In actual history, the Whites never captured Moscow.

In the end, they fail and vanish into history.

What if a god, out of nowhere, intervenes and turns the tide, causing the Reds to win?

As a human, that shouldn’t happen.

The reason I was sent here is to escape the Reds, right?

Whatever happens, the result won’t change.

With each passing day, more and more defectors from the Red Army were joining us or just running away.

When we dropped flyers by plane, saying they could return to their original lands without needing to surrender to us, the number of deserters increased.

The situation on the battlefield cannot be turned around.

Once we regroup and launch a full-scale offensive, we will win.

Thinking that as I tried to remain calm, I realized the Reds were crazier than expected.

“The enemy army is approaching.”

“What’s this about?”

Have those crazy bastards finally lost their minds now that their doom is imminent?

Indeed, those wearing a red star on their caps from the Moscow defensive line transformed into a crimson tide rushing towards our troops.

But that would be their end.

Given our superior firepower, how could our defense be anything but robust?

Tudududududu!

The MG08 machine guns imported from Germany turned the red cockroaches into minced meat.

Honestly, I had no idea why they were carrying out such mindless charges.

For some reason, Mikhail Frunze’s ambitious offensive was thoroughly failing.

At first, I briefly thought, “Have these lunatics gone mad?”

With poorly trained rabble brought in, this hastily assembled Red army could not compare to the experienced White Army that had repeatedly tasted victory.

The difference in weapon quality was apparent, and even if close-quarters combat broke out, it would end in massacre for the Whites.

But why are they pulling such insane stunts?

We should ask Drozdovsky about this.

“What does the Chief of Staff think?”

“Given that defeat is inevitable as it stands, perhaps they think of launching a reckless charge to see what they can achieve before more soldiers desert.”

Right. That seems likely.

That would mean something happened that could drive the enemy soldiers to flee.

“And?”

“Otherwise, there must have been something happening within Moscow. They might be attempting a reckless assault to conceal it.”

“An internal conflict, you say? If that’s the case—”

If it erupted from within, it means a revolt, whether it was suppressed or if embers still persist, indicating Moscow is crumbling.

“There must have been internal disputes among the Bolsheviks.”

“The possibility seems high.”

A conflict arose within the Communist Party.

It couldn’t be a straight uprising in Moscow. They might either negotiate with us or continue fighting. There could be disputes over either issue.

That could spark a bloody wind internally.

Thus, Mikhail Frunze attempted to hide it by charging in.

Not long later, Frunze’s offensive failed to breach the White Army’s defensive lines even slightly.

Those who were originally fighting with mere numbers couldn’t possibly pull off a proper attack.

In Ukraine, perhaps they had a chance due to the low number of British troops, but here, it’s out of the question.

A short while later, a Bolshevik waving a white flag approached from the Moscow side.

“Our comrade Stalin has proposed that we end this meaningless civil war and resolve matters peacefully through a democratic election.”

Are you kidding me?

This is the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.

That Soviets would end a pointless civil war with a democratic election?

Are you implying that everything we went through so far was just for today’s punchline?

Anyway, it’s ridiculous just to hear.

“Anyone hearing this might think the Bolsheviks are the victims.”

It’s a poor portrayal of the weak begging the strong for mercy.

Anyone might think we are the bad guys.

Considering the Reds, who sought to topple Russia, how could they?

“This is a proposal that holds no merit. They are undeniably in a death struggle to survive.”

“Those who disbanded the Duma to seize power are these Soviet Reds. Princess, you should not accept them.”

Pyotr Wrangel and Mikhail Drozdovsky were against it.

I had no intention of accepting it either.

The Reds are nothing but false pretenders, pure liars.

How strange. These fools aren’t the type to come to this.

Wait. “Comrade Stalin has…?” There seems to be something that happened to Lenin.

That’s why Stalin sent someone.

That guy is talking about a democratic election? It’s absurd that power comes from betrayers like him.

He is neither fool nor someone who genuinely thinks about elections.

Is it a ploy to buy time?

Even if they buy time, the situation won’t improve.

There’s no one to support the Bolsheviks.

Who would help those treated like cockroaches around the world?

Right. That makes sense.

“They’re trying to escape.”

“Excuse me?”

Even if they hold out until the end, there’s no way forward.

While there may be Bolsheviks determined to fight to the death, if an uprising ignited in Moscow now, they should be saying nothing.

They surely know it would be hard to stop the Reds coming from the Baltic.

Rather, they would use that to help them escape.

“Logically, they can’t be serious making such a proposal. These are the Bolsheviks who disbanded the Duma for their own gain. Now they’re talking about elections? They’ve long since passed the point where they could even count on winning them.”

Even if they genuinely believed they were considering elections due to dwindling IQ under our punches, who would support the current Bolsheviks?

How many would risk their lives to grant power to those Bolsheviks who slaughter the populace?

They were undoubtedly far more authoritarian and violent than their historical counterparts.

There’s no chance they will emerge from this unscathed.

“Therefore.”

“In the end, it’s all a ploy to buy time, and there’s no one anywhere to help them against us.”

“Then it’s an escape.”

Yes. As always, escaping is a familiar act for them.

To seize another opportunity and plot for the future, they flee.

This escape would essentially signify the defeat of communism. Can they handle that?

Yes. Well, that’s that.

Something has happened to Lenin. That’s why someone who seems to be Stalin’s subordinate came here.

And—

I won’t let the messenger of those Soviets leave unscathed.

Right now, at this moment, they are surely searching for a way to flee.

It would be just as good to let that Red go back and reassure him before striking hard.

But it might be better to push forward as it is.

“What happened to Lenin? Interrogate this person!”

“Yes!”

“Wha— Princess Comrade, I don’t know anything—”

That bastard just called me comrade?

Even if I’ve become the dead princess, I have no intention of being called comrade by some Red.

Because of that bastard’s antics, the 21st century is in ruins; just being a “good” Red means being a dead Red.

“Who does he think he’s calling comrade when this ain’t no safe spot for the Princess! Take him away at once!”

“We can’t give them any time. Let’s go on the offensive immediately.”

Stalin’s probably preparing to sneak off by getting ready, but where could that scoundrel hope to run?

I will not allow that sight to ever happen.

As Mikhail Frunze’s attacks began to dwindle, we too launched a counteroffensive.

This time, I’m personally involved, firing alongside my soldiers while moving the army myself.

Just like during the battle of Yekaterinburg.

“Children of the Great Russian Empire! The defenses of Moscow are inadequately crumbling! Now, charge forth! Your Tsarina is with you! Recapture the Third Rome through this attack!”

“Oh God, bless the Tsarina and the White Army!”

“Long live the Great Russian Empire!”

The White Army’s uniforms had dark green tops and black bottoms.

From a distance, it even seemed like green waves of darkness were crashing through the red star’s defenses and overwhelming Moscow.

With Mikhail Frunze’s failed offensive, the Bolsheviks lost their ability to defend.

Those in Moscow, initially barely holding on with sheer numbers, started to falter as the fierce attacks from the White Army surged.

The moment for the breakthrough was coming.

“Citizens of Russia conscripted into the enemy army! Will you continue to suffer under the repeated tyranny, being oppressed to the point of throwing your lives away like mere grass for the Bolsheviks? Surrender! In my name, Anastasia, and in the name of the Saint, not that of the Romanov you cannot trust. I shall forgive you!”

I stood with the White Army, shaking the enemy’s spirit.

If it’s now, it should work.

With Frunze’s final attack failing, there was nothing left on their end.

As expected, the enemies started to hesitate.

They milled about awkwardly, murmuring without firing their weapons.

“Princess! It’s dangerous!”

“Comrades! Ignore the Princess’s words! Quickly, kill those reactionary bastards!”

“Don’t be a meat shield for them! Surrender and join the White Army!”

“Shut up!”

[Tang Tang Tatang!]

Whether due to more defectors or not, political officers trailing behind the enemy shot at me to prevent defection.

“Princess!”

They raised a commotion in the ranks of the White Army upon seeing me.

Unfortunately, I did not die.

It hurt, but it seems my body isn’t quite perforated yet.

The bullets couldn’t even tear through my uniform as they fell harmlessly around me.

“Calling you a saint, you really are a saint.”

“It’s clear you are under God’s protection.”

The enemies stared at me in shock.

Even the political officers firing at me dropped their jaws in disbelief, their eyes trembling.

“Ma-mage.”

Calling me a mage? How rude.

And my saint certification triggered a miracle even among the enemy soldiers facing off with us.

Bang!

Those who were rushing towards me with guns turned their barrels around and started shooting down the political officers instead.

Returning to the defensive line, the Red Army, fiercely pushing against the White army, crumbled in an instant.

The red flag fell, and the tricolor flag of the Empire, bearing the double-headed eagle, filled the battlefield.