bookrandom Chapter 1365 Possible
Chapter 1365 Possible
At this point, Shahar said something and then continued shouting:
“Those jackals from the Federation! Handa! Xiao Ce! They tricked us into joining their deceitful organization!”
“After we joined them, they took away our freedom, took away everything that belonged to us... They even tried to make us sign some unequal treaties, thus betraying my people! Do you think I can do it?”
Shahar first fabricated some baseless charges and accusations and pinned them on Xiao Ce's head.
In fact, ordinary people are the easiest to persuade.
Upon hearing Shahar's words, the people immediately shouted in unison, "We can't do it! We absolutely can't do it!"
Hearing what everyone said, Shahar was very satisfied with his results.
He continued into the cave: “Those cruel and bloodthirsty Federation raiders! With cold steel and destructive flames, they trampled our Don River Fortress and slaughtered our valiant warriors!”
Now, their iron hooves are trampling on our sacred land, their spearhead pointing directly at our great capital! The heart of Slavism!
His words were filled with sorrow, successfully arousing fear and hatred among the people towards the plunderers.
"They claim to bring order? To bring peace? Lies! Utter lies!"
Shahar's voice suddenly rose, filled with unparalleled hatred.
"What they brought was burning, killing, and looting! It was the destruction of a nation and the extermination of its people! Look at what they did along the way!"
Is there any humanity left? The garrison of Don Fort, our brave warriors, who would rather die than surrender, were slaughtered without a single survivor!
They won't even give us a chance to surrender! Their goal is to wipe us Slavs completely off the face of the earth!
He deliberately distorted and amplified the brutal image of the Federation forces, successfully igniting public anger and a sense of shared hatred against the enemy.
Angry growls and sobs began to rise from the crowd.
"Now, they're here! They've already routed our defenders and are rushing towards our capital!"
Shahar's voice became incredibly impassioned, filled with unwavering resolve!
"They want to destroy our homes! Trample our faith! Enslave our wives, children, and the elderly! Tell me, my people, can we allow this?!"
"Do not!!!"
A tremendous roar erupted from the crowd like a tsunami, and fear was temporarily replaced by raging anger.
"Yes! Absolutely not!"
Shahar raised his arms and shouted, his voice carrying an almost sacred sense of mission!
"This capital city is the glory of our ancestors! It is our root! It is our last bastion! Retreat? Where can we retreat to? Behind us are our parents, wives, and children! The last bloodline of the Slavs! We have nowhere to retreat!"
He pointed sharply to the ground beneath his feet: "This is our battlefield! Every block! Every alley! Every house! Will become a graveyard for the plunderers!"
"I! Your Tsar! Will be with you!"
"To live or die with this great city! One hundred thousand of the most elite warriors will fight alongside you! And our invincible legion of divine messengers will descend once more to punish these blasphemous plunderers!"
Mentioning the "Divine Envoy Legion" brought the crowd's fervor to its peak, as if they had rediscovered their spiritual pillar!
"Grab any weapons you can find! Shovels! Sticks! Molotov cocktails! Even your angry fists!"
Defend your homes! Defend your loved ones! Defend your dignity as Slavs!
Let those Federation barbarians see what unyielding will is! What it means to fight to the bitter end! Let our flesh and blood build an insurmountable wall for them! Let them pay a bloody price for every step they take! Let this capital become their eternal nightmare!
Shahar's speeches are extremely persuasive!
He portrayed a doomed defensive battle as a sacred war of national defense, binding civilians to chariots, promising the illusory glory of being with the emperor, and hinting at the protection of "divine messengers." The desperate populace was completely ignited.
"Defend our homeland! Defend the Tsar! Fight to the bitter end!"
The frenzied shouts rose in waves, many weeping as they cried out, their fear temporarily overwhelmed by a tragic, collective fervor. They seemed to genuinely believe that, under the emperor's leadership, through their love for their homeland and the power of the "divine messengers," they could create miracles.
Shahar looked down at the jubilant crowd below, a twisted and satisfied expression on his face.
He successfully transformed despair into a source of exploitable madness.
However, as he turned and stepped off the platform, his fanatical expression vanished instantly, leaving only deep exhaustion and a lingering shadow of fear in his eyes.
He knew that the hundreds of thousands of civilians who had been misled, along with the 100,000 garrison troops, were merely huge sacrifices for him to buy time, deplete the federal coalition forces, and create an opportunity for the 300,000 "seeds" to retreat north.
As Shahar stepped down from the platform, the seductive tragic look on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, almost cruel calculation.
He harbored an even more insane idea and calculation.
He strode back to the heavily guarded inner palace, leaving the crowd in the square still indignant and chanting for a fight to the death.
The fervent slogans faintly drifted through the thick palace walls, but to him they sounded like the buzzing of the most convenient tool.
He walked straight toward several trusted generals in charge of city defense and security who were already waiting there, his gaze sharp as a knife, showing no trace of the empathy he had shown in the square.
"Grand Duke Andrei's 300,000 elite troops must begin their evacuation immediately and secretly!"
Go through the north gate, and keep a low profile! Tell them to abandon all baggage, take only weapons and three days' rations, and head full speed ahead to the northern fortress!
"Never look back before the capital falls!"
Shahar said in a cold voice.
“Yes, Your Majesty!” a general acknowledged the order, then looked at Shahar: “Your Majesty, then you…”
Shahar said, "I need to stay here, I can't leave... If I leave, this place will fall apart."
Some of the generals looked at Shahar with concern.
"Tsar, you are our core leader, you cannot afford any harm to yourself..."
After hearing their words, Shahar laughed and said, "Don't worry, they want me dead... not so easy..."
Shahar knew very well that he couldn't bear to die...
Shahar turned to the commander in charge of the city's defense!
"As for the 100,000 troops left behind and those enthusiastic people... listen up!"
He deliberately emphasized the words "highly enthusiastic," with a strong sense of sarcasm.
"Distribute all the weapons in the armory—those in stock, those captured, and even those confiscated from the civilians! Swords, spears, axes, muskets, homemade bombs, Molotov cocktails…everything that can kill! Give them to the people in the square, to every man, woman, and even a child in the city who can still hold a weapon!"
The commander hesitated for a moment: "Your Majesty, should we... differentiate between organizations? Or perhaps issue us our old uniforms to facilitate command..."
"No!"
Shahar abruptly interrupted him, a sinister expression on his face: "Not a single uniform is to be issued! Let them wear their own tattered clothes! Let them face the steel torrent of the Federal Army as the most ordinary, humble Slavic civilians!"
He paced back and forth, his eyes flashing with a crazed and sinister light: "Do you know why I'm doing this? Because I want every fallen Slav to clearly tell the enemy, and to all the living and those who are watching, that the Federation army is slaughtering our civilians! Slaughtering unarmed women and children!"
He stopped abruptly, stared into the commander's eyes, and emphasized, word by word:
"You, and your soldiers, are not on a mission to lead these civilians into battle!"
Drive them away! Drive them like sheep to the front lines, to the places where the Federation forces are attacking most fiercely!
Let them use their flesh and blood to wear down the enemy's bullets, to slow down the enemy's tanks, and to fill in the enemy's trenches!
"Tell them, for their homeland, for the Tsar, for their dead loved ones, charge forward!"
“But you…” Shahar said, his voice growing colder and colder!
"The regular army you lead must firmly defend the core positions and retreat routes."
Once these civilian suicide squads have charged out, your firepower must be precisely positioned behind them, eliminating any thought of retreat! They don't need to wear military uniforms!
Let them die in their tattered clothes under the Federation's guns! The more the merrier! The more gruesome their deaths, the better!
The commander and other generals felt a chill run down their spines; they understood Shahar's intention!
This is no longer a simple military defense, but an extremely vicious political performance that uses lives as a weapon.
Shahar walked to the window, gazing at the faint outline of the city wall in the distance, as if he could see a scene of corpses strewn across the land. His voice carried a morbid expectation.
"Let the entire Slavic nation, no, let the whole world see the Federation Army!"
Let every fallen corpse, dressed in civilian clothes, become a seed of hatred!
So what if the capital falls? As long as the flames of hatred are ignited, as long as the anger of the Slavic people is fully unleashed… even in the occupied territories, there are still tens of millions of our people! Our entire Slavic population numbers over a hundred million! Can those devils of the Federation possibly kill them all?
He turned abruptly, his gaze icy and sinister: "They are the best spark! These civilians who fell on the front lines are the blood that quenched that spark!"
"Their deaths will make everyone who is alive understand that the Federalists are not liberators, but executioners! They are devils who bring death and slavery!"
This will completely sever any possibility of reconciliation between the people of the occupied territories and the plunderers!