Chapter 945: Chapter 5 The Fated Death_2

“And the Third Army Group launched an attack in the south, breaking through the Prosen defense line and occupying Alsace.”

After a brief pause, Eck said: “As long as the Southern Front succeeds, Rocossov’s plan to meet us in Alsace will be thwarted. This might be the first time this war genius’s plan fails in this entire war.”

Everyone present laughed; the very fact of defeating Rocossov, who has virtually had no defeats throughout the war, was exciting enough.

Admiral Little John, with his signature cigar, said: “I don’t care about thwarting Rocossov, I just don’t want Rocossov to be the only one kicking these narcissists’ asses! I want to invade their territory and wash our tracks with their blood!”

Eck: “Don’t rush; before Christmas, we’ll have plenty of chances.”

He turned to the map, repeated to the arrows representing attack directions on it: “We have plenty of opportunities.”

——–

17 kilometers from the city center of Plowsonia, Asgard Knights’ position.

Andreas looked at the leaflets drifting down from the sky: “I thought it was red snow.”

Kosolek grabbed a leaflet out of the air, unfolded it, and hesitated for a moment upon seeing the photo on it.

The photo was very impactful, showing a Prosen soldier smiling in front of a wall covered with the bodies of little girls.

The corpses and the smile created a stark contrast, causing any normal person to feel physically repulsed.

In the corner of the photo was a line of red Prosen words: “Sinner!”

Andreas heard a vomiting sound nearby and turned his head to see a young Private from the People’s Self-Defense Army retching on the base of a 105mm anti-aircraft gun.

Surrounding him were people who had grabbed leaflets and started vomiting.

Andreas bent down and picked up a leaflet from the snow, finding a different but equally impactful photo.

Similarly, in the corner of the photo, red Prosen words said: “Repent!”

Andreas picked up another leaflet with longer text: “We are the avenging spirits.”

The photo showed a ragged Ante Warrior, surrounded by Prosen people mocking him, yet the warrior’s eyes were ablaze with fighting spirit, indeed ghost-like.

Andreas: “I don’t understand photography, but I feel… I feel these photos must have been processed, their impact is just too strong…”

Kosolek snatched what was in his hand, threw it to the ground, and used his foot to cover it with earth and snow.

“They just picked the most suitable ones from thousands of photos,” Kosolek said, “After all, these photos may have been stored in Melania’s archives before.”

Andreas did not reply and picked up another leaflet, discovering it showed Rocossov riding a white horse.

Beside it, red words from Revelation read: “He rode a white horse, coming out of the darkness.”

For a moment, Andreas felt Rocossov’s head was surrounded by Holy Light, but looking closely, it was just a circle of sequins stuck on, damn, this leaflet was cleverly made.

“Stop looking!” Kosolek snatched the leaflet, about to throw it away, but seeing Rocossov on it, his hand immediately froze.

Just then, the Constitutional Guards shouted “Possession of leaflets is a serious crime,” so he obediently placed the leaflet in a cart pushed by two women behind the guards.

Andreas: “You… why didn’t you bury this one?”

Kosolek clenched his hands tightly, as if he had just touched something extremely cold, warming them with his breath.

“Because he always appears in my nightmares, I don’t want to make the nightmares more terrifying.” He said.

Andreas: “This is all superstition, right?”

At that moment, the private who had just vomited stood up, looked at Kosolek and Andreas for a while, then gathered courage to ask: “Sirs, are those lies?”

Kosolek: “No, they are all true. We committed heinous crimes on someone else’s land. That’s why they want revenge.”

Kosolek glanced at the departing guards, crouched down in front of the young private so that his sight aligned with the private’s.

In a low voice, he said: “Listen, kid, when the war starts, find a way to surrender. We bear the sins, we will take responsibility. You are innocent, kid!”

Andreas: “I didn’t do anything either.”

Kosolek looked at Andreas: “So I will ensure you survive, I promise!”

——–

Plowsonia city center, Royal Palace Bunker A entrance.

A Prosen Captain entered the bunker with a stack of leaflets.

The first checkpoint, having already been notified, immediately let him pass, followed by the second checkpoint.

The Captain’s rank was evidently only enough to enter the second checkpoint, so he handed the leaflets to the Colonel for the handover.

The Colonel took the leaflets through the third checkpoint, handing them to an officer with red-bottomed rank insignia, usually a general.

The General, holding the leaflets, passed through the final checkpoint, down a long corridor, and arrived at the door of the Emperor’s office.

He opened the door.

Inside, the Emperor was roaring: “What do you mean by losing Loki? Literally? You didn’t even last a day before losing Loki! Now the enemy has a beachhead on the Oder River!”

The generals present dared not make a sound.

Emperor: “Where is Steiner? Don’t let him counterattack across the river first, retrieve Loki first, take back that damned beachhead!”

The people exchanged glances.

At this moment, the General delivering the leaflets seized the opportunity to place the items in front of the Emperor.

Emperor: “What is this?”

“The leaflets just airdropped, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor threw them directly to the ground: “Ignore them, it’s definitely Rocossov’s deceptive propaganda! The brave Prosen people and army will not believe him! Where is Steiner? When can he attack?”

Finally, Celtic Marshal said: “Your Majesty, Steiner cannot act at the moment… The Maus tanks were bombed by the Allied Forces while being unloaded, they couldn’t be fully unloaded, the engineers say it will take another week to repair the tanks’ mobility.”

Emperor: “A week? You mean, the thing we have high hopes in will take a week to come out from the train station?”

“Repair the mobility systems.” Celtic Marshal corrected, “After that, it can leave the train station.”

The Emperor was silent.

After several seconds, he asked: “Without using the Maus tanks, how much armored force do we have left to launch an attack?”

“There are still two armored brigades and the 503rd Heavy Tank Destroyer Battalion.”

Emperor: “Deploy them, tell them, if they can’t reclaim the beachhead, the Empire of Prosen is finished.”

“Yes.”

The dispatch staff turned and left.

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, sighed heavily: “Giles, how did things become like this, how did things come to this.”

The Emperor’s court manager asked: “Should we call the Princess over?”

“No.” The Emperor shook his head, “Send my sister to Cologne.”

Everyone exchanged glances.

The Emperor slammed the table hard: “I said send my sister to Cologne! I will never hand my sister over to that playboy protagonist Rocossov, never!”

Suddenly, the Emperor stopped because he saw the stack of leaflets he had just thrown to the ground.

On the top of the scattered leaflets was the one with Rocossov riding the white horse.

He abruptly bent down, picked up that leaflet, stared hard at Rocossov on it, and read out the words: “He rode a white horse, coming out of the darkness.”

The Emperor’s hands trembled.

Suddenly, he recited the following phrase: “Authority was given to him to kill a quarter of the earth’s people with a sword, famine, and plague.”

The Emperor slumped into his chair, his hand holding the leaflet pounding the table, oblivious to the pain.

Finally, the Emperor said: “He is coming, Rocossov is taking action, he is bringing us destruction.”