Chapter 542: Past Events of the Northeast

Denikin's head snapped up.

"What did you say? Fully connected?"

"The Trans-Siberian Railway is fully operational," Yudenich repeated. "The final stretch of track was laid and connected last month."

Even a man like Denikin could not hide his shock upon hearing this news.

The construction of this railway had begun during the era of the Great Rus Empire, but all work had ground to a complete halt when the civil war broke out.

Warlords, local militias, and bandit gangs along the route had slaughtered each other. Railway workers had either fled or died. Countless sections of the roadbed and bridges had been blown up and forgotten over years of chaotic warfare.

Denikin had always believed that restoring the entire line to operational status would have to wait until after the civil war ended.

"Alexander, don't tell me you were building this railway while fighting a war."

Kolchak picked up his teacup and took a sip before answering.

"Otherwise, did you think I spent the last three years in Siberia just playing house with bandits?"

He said it lightly, but only the "Supreme Ruler" himself knew the bitter hardships involved—concentrating resources, negotiating with or outright annexing other factions along the route to push the railway construction forward.

"Wait..."

Denikin's mind raced.

"According to the plans from the old Empire, the terminus of the Trans-Siberian Railway was supposed to be the Yaroslavsky railway station in Moscow?" He shot Kolchak a look. "But Moscow is within my controlled territory, and there hasn't been a hint of railway construction activity over there."

"Because I changed the terminus."

Kolchak stated calmly, "I adjusted the route's direction west of Yekaterinburg, bypassing the Moscow direction. The terminus is now right here in St. Petersburg."

Denikin opened his mouth, taking several seconds to fully digest the magnitude of this statement.

Changing the route direction? It sounded so simple, but it meant entirely re-surveying, re-planning, and executing new construction... To accomplish all of that amidst the chaos of a civil war required a level of organizational power and resource allocation that was far beyond ordinary.

Clearly, the "Supreme Autocratic Principality of All Rus" led by Kolchak and Yudenich was hiding far more strength than the outside world had guessed.

"With the entire line operational, the situation is completely different," Kolchak said, a hint of smugness finally bleeding into his tone. "The Holy Britannia Empire's North American colonies can ship supplies directly via the Pacific route to our Far East ports, and then transport them all the way to St. Petersburg via the Trans-Siberian Railway."

"And supplies from the Britannian homeland can arrive via the Northern Sea Route..." Yudenich chimed in. "This means we now have two stable, external supply lines."

Denikin remained silent, allowing Kolchak to continue:

"The Britannian representatives have even stated that, in an emergency, they could use this railway to directly deploy troops from their North American colonies to reinforce us."

"Hah."

Denikin finally let out a scoffing laugh.

"You actually believe the words of the Britannians?"

He leaned back in his chair, his gravelly voice dripping with blatant sarcasm. "Last month, when the Balkan Peninsula was swept by the Saxon army and the allied forces were beaten tooth and nail, I didn't see the Britannians send a single soldier into the fray. They sold their allies out without blinking an eye."

"Ivan, directly deploying troops is one thing; material aid is another."

Kolchak didn't lose his temper over Denikin's attitude. He simply replied calmly, "Setting aside whether they will send troops or not, the transportation of supplies is tangible and real... By my calculations, the first batch of supplies shipped via the railway will arrive in St. Petersburg within the next two days."

As he spoke, Kolchak pulled a manifest from the pile of documents and pushed it in front of Denikin.

Denikin glanced down. The manifest was densely packed with the transport schedules for dozens of upcoming train runs.

Aside from desperately needed weapons, ammunition, and civilian medical supplies, there were various critical industrial raw materials, as well as preliminarily processed magic crystal ores.

"The next few dozen trains will continuously deliver these goods," Kolchak said, watching Denikin's expression. "More importantly, the first few trains will bring Magic Crystal Cannons to assist in the assault on Kyiv."

Magic Crystal Cannons. Denikin's fingers stopped moving.

He knew all too well why the siege of Kyiv had stalled. After the Saxons had assisted in upgrading Kyiv's city defenses, the reinforced bunker complexes were practically impervious to conventional artillery. Ordering infantry to charge them was pure suicide.

But the Britannians' specialized siege weapons—Magic Crystal Cannons—possessed penetrative and explosive power far beyond anything conventional gunpowder weapons could achieve.

Seeing Denikin's resolve wavering, Kolchak pressed his advantage.

"In addition, a subsequent shipment will include a batch of their phased-out Armored Knights, as well as new anti-armor weapons... specifically designed to counter the Saxons' Teutonic Order."

Denikin put down the manifest and leaned back.

He was calculating the odds in his head...

Kolchak had connected the railway. The Britannians had opened lines of credit and provided supplies. The Kalmar Union had opened the northern sea route... All the puzzle pieces were falling into place, one by one.

After nearly half a minute of silence, Denikin looked at Kolchak and finally spoke again.

"I didn't expect you to have a hand like this to play."

This time, his tone was entirely different—less mocking, carrying a sense of genuine admiration. "To actually manage to finish the Trans-Siberian Railway in the middle of this mess..."

Kolchak smiled and waved his hand dismissively.

"In terms of pure military talent, I am indeed inferior to the two of you. But in some matters... I look a bit further ahead."

He stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back a slit in the velvet curtains. Outside, the lights of Palace Square were still burning brightly.

"In late 1910, on the day I stood in the blizzard and swore loyalty to the Provisional Government, I already foresaw that it was merely the beginning of another era of turmoil."

Denikin and Yudenich didn't interrupt him, even though they knew this story perfectly well and had heard countless versions of it.

"The Provisional Government's suspicion of me never ceased from day one... They tried to place me under house arrest in St. Petersburg, treating me like a dog that might bite them at any moment."

Kolchak turned around, leaning his back against the window frame.

"You know what happened next... The Britannians and the Gauls helped me leave the city. I rallied my former subordinates and the soldiers of the old Empire willing to follow me, linked up with Nikolai, and we fought our way back together."

"None of us expected the Provisional Government to be so incredibly fragile, nor did we expect them to clash with the Bolsheviks so quickly... Perhaps it was their infighting that gave us our chance."

Yudenich also spoke up, his voice low as he recounted the events of those years.

"They couldn't even organize a decent resistance before fleeing all the way to Kyiv... and then they hugged the thighs of the Saxons."

"That is exactly why I pushed through all opposition and concentrated our resources on building the Trans-Siberian Railway."

Following Yudenich's words, Kolchak made an earth-shattering statement with absolute conviction:

"To end this civil war, fighting amongst ourselves won't be enough... We could fight until the end of time and still not finish it. Aid from foreign powers is an absolute necessity."

"That is why, even during our most difficult times, I insisted on building this railway... Over five years, the money spent could have fed who knows how many troops."

At this, Kolchak let out a long sigh.

"Time flies... In the blink of an eye, this damned civil war has been going on for over five years..."

The room went quiet for a moment.

"So, the outbreak of the Great European War is an opportunity for us," Denikin said suddenly.

"If we can seize this window to take Kyiv and wipe out the remnants of the Provisional Government—"

He stood up and walked over to Kolchak.

"—we can recreate the glory of 'Greater Rus'."

"Which is why I hope our cooperation this time will be comprehensive and deep..." Kolchak replied smoothly. "Aside from Britannian supplies, our own arsenals aren't entirely without production capacity! The Putilov factory in St. Petersburg returned to full production last month. Our monthly output of Mosin rifles has recovered to sixty percent of pre-war levels... If we can just restart those ammunition plants in the south that shut down due to the fighting—"

"Those ammunition plants you're talking about are in my controlled territory," Denikin interrupted.

"Yes..." Kolchak looked him straight in the eye. "Which is why I need your cooperation."

Denikin placed the manifest back on the table, folded his hands in front of him, and asked the critical question.

"Alexander... How do you plan to distribute command authority over these one and a half million men?"

This was the core issue.

Mobilizing reinforcements was one thing; who commanded them was another entirely. Denikin had been fighting in Southern Rus for years. His volunteer army had grown from a few thousand men to its current size entirely through blood and steel. He was not about to hand his troops over to someone else.

Kolchak had clearly anticipated this question.

"A Joint Command Headquarters."

He picked up the final document on the table—a drafted proposal.

"You, I, and Yudenich will form a Supreme Military Council. Major decisions will be determined by a vote between the three of us... Our respective troops will remain under our direct command. The Joint Command will only be responsible for unified strategic coordination."

Denikin took the draft and began reading it carefully.

Yudenich added from the side: "Commander Denikin, we are all very aware of the combat prowess of your volunteers. No one denies that, especially since the commanders under you are exceedingly capable... Therefore, the Joint Command will respect your autonomy in tactical decisions."

Denikin didn't state his position immediately. He silently flipped through the draft, the only sound in the room being the rustle of turning pages.

After a while, he finally looked up at the other two.

"I hope this is a good beginning..."

Over the next few days, every newspaper in the White Army's controlled territory went into overdrive. Printing presses worked overtime.

The front pages were plastered with group photos of the three leaders in Palace Square, accompanied by headlines like "The Three Swords of the White Army Unite: The Great Cause of Unification is Imminent." Photos of the three standing shoulder-to-shoulder were printed individually and plastered on bulletin boards in every town from St. Petersburg to Moscow.

Away from the newspaper headlines, standing on the platform of the St. Petersburg railway station, Denikin finally laid eyes on the first train fully loaded with supplies.

The radiant crystal locomotive, built using Saxon technology imported before the civil war, slowly decelerated. The iron wheels screeched against the tracks, and the massively long train extended far beyond the end of the platform.

Kolchak stood beside Denikin, hands clasped behind his back, speaking with a rare tone of banter.

"Well, Ivan? Do you believe it now?"

Denikin didn't reply immediately. He walked to the nearest freight car and signaled his accompanying staff officers to open the doors.

When the iron sliding doors were pushed open, the car was packed to the brim with neatly stacked wooden crates. The crates were stamped with Britannian text indicating models and quantities. A staff officer pried open the top crate, revealing brand-new light machine guns wrapped in oil paper.

Denikin picked one up and examined it. Though he felt the weapon was a bit clunky, he knew it would massively bolster infantry firepower.

He put the machine gun back and walked further down the platform. The subsequent cars were packed to bursting with weapons, ammunition, and various supplies.

When he reached a flatbed car near the middle, he stopped.

This flatbed was noticeably longer and wider than the others. Resting on it, secured by heavy iron chains, were the components of the heavy siege Magic Crystal Cannons. The massive, thick barrels were still wrapped in protective tarps.

Denikin stared at the cannon components for a long time before turning back to Kolchak.

He stayed silent for a moment, then proactively extended his right hand.

Kolchak reached out and shook it.

"Alexander... I truly do see the hope of ending this civil war."

Kolchak nodded. Just as he was about to let go, Denikin tightened his grip.

"However, I want to take this opportunity to bring something up again."

Kolchak's smile froze slightly.

"It's about the State Duma."

Kolchak's expression shifted. "Ivan..."

Denikin let go of his hand and spoke bluntly:

"Currently, whether it's in your territory or mine, the government apparatus is like a structure built out of rotten wood... It's too fragile."

The unloading operations on the platform continued, soldiers shouting as they loaded crates of supplies onto mule carts.

Kolchak turned sideways, gesturing for them to step toward the edge of the platform, away from the crowd.

"The militarization of our government structures is too heavy," Denikin continued. "From the Supreme Commander down to high-ranking officials, governors, and county magistrates, it's an entirely vertical management system. The chief executive is simultaneously the local head of the military and police... When the war was going smoothly, the problems weren't obvious."

He paused.

"But after we hit a brick wall at Kyiv? All sorts of rot started surfacing. Grain requisition, troop mobilization... massive problems arose in all these areas, directly impacting our frontline offensives!"

Denikin finished his piece and waited.

Kolchak's face betrayed no emotion. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette case, and placed an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

"So, you mean... hold new elections?"

"Yes... A formal government institution with a foundation of public support is the bedrock we need to sustain us until the final moment... Regimes held together purely by military strongmen have never met a good end in history."

"Ivan, it's not that I haven't tried."

Kolchak twirled the unlit cigarette between his fingers, shaking his head. "Last year, I invited members of the Constitutional Democratic Party and various intellectuals to try and form a committee... I wanted to neutralize the militarization of the government."

"And then?"

"Before the meetings even officially started, the left-wing and right-wing were at each other's throats... On the third day, a representative of the Socialist Revolutionary Party was found dead in his hotel room... smothered with a pillow."

"On the fifth day, several different factions nearly got into a fistfight right in the meeting hall."

"So, on the seventh day, when absolutely no progress had been made, I had them all gathered together and shot."

Denikin's brow furrowed tightly.

"Those people weren't thinking about the future direction of 'Greater Rus' at all," Kolchak's voice darkened. "All they were thinking about was how to grab more seats in the government institution that would decide the future of Greater Rus, how to push out their rivals, and how to force their own ideologies down everyone's throats!"

"It was a foul, toxic atmosphere!" Kolchak delivered his final verdict. "The current government apparatus is already riddled with corruption. Do you think that once we actually build a civilian government, those people will be any better? No! They will only steal more and hide it deeper... And when the time comes, absolutely nothing will reach our hands!"

Denikin tried to say something, but Kolchak raised a hand to stop him.

"Ivan... that is not the priority right now."

He turned to look in another direction, as if gazing at a city under artillery fire.

"Take Kyiv first! After we end this civil war, I am more than willing to sit down and have a thorough discussion with you about the future planning of Greater Rus... When we sit down to talk then, I will not avoid any questions."

Denikin opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed his words.

He knew Kolchak had a point. At least at this specific juncture, internal political integration was indeed not the top priority.

"Alright... I look forward to that day."

That afternoon, Denikin bid farewell to Kolchak and Yudenich and boarded the military train back to Moscow.

He and a single aide-de-camp were the only ones in the carriage. The dull, rhythmic clatter of iron wheels striking the rail joints filled the silence.

The scenery outside the window began to blur past. The ornate spires and domes of St. Petersburg receded into the distance, gradually replaced by gray plains and sparse birch forests.

Denikin leaned back against the hard seat. What turned over and over in his mind wasn't the numbers of weapons and ammunition, but Kolchak's words.

Take Kyiv first!

It sounded perfectly reasonable.

But Denikin had been a soldier his entire life. He had seen far too many instances of "let's finish fighting the war first" turn into "that day will never come."

His thoughts drifted uncontrollably back to that night in February 1910... the night that completely altered the destiny of the Great Rus Empire.

When news spread across St. Petersburg that the "Demon Monk" Rasputin had engaged in a fierce firefight with elements of the Imperial Guard who had joined the revolutionary faction and was ultimately killed, Denikin was still stationed in the Caucasus Military District.

No one had expected that the death of this "Holy Fool" would become the final straw that broke the camel's back.

And then, everything collapsed.

The military train rumbled onward through the dark night, and Denikin closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, far away in Dresden, the capital of the Saxon Empire.

Morin sat in a massive archives room belonging to the Third Department of the Army General Staff. Spread out before him was a thick stack of yellowing documents.

"So the Great Rus Empire really erupted into revolution because the 'Demon Monk Rasputin' acted as a fuse?"

Morin looked up with an expression that screamed, This script is too absurd, aiming his gaze at Major Nikolai, who sat across from him organizing files.

The Director of the Third Department of the Army General Staff—who had cooperated with Morin several times, especially after the Semper Opera House assassination attempt, using the opportunity to root out a bunch of moles and earning a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel in the process—chuckled helplessly and spread his hands.

"Colonel Morin, all the information collected by the Empire's diplomatic and intelligence agencies is right there in your hands... At any rate, that is exactly what the archives say."

Morin clicked his tongue, flipping through the pages in his hands.

In the world before his transmigration, the fall of Tsarist Russia occurred specifically after the Great War ended... WWI dragged down the Empire's economy, the February Revolution overthrew the Tsar, followed by the October Revolution.

But this world's version... was truly much more dramatic.

When he first transmigrated into this world, the information he gleaned from the members of the "International Brigades" in Sevres wasn't comprehensive; he only got a rough gist.

Now, reading the Saxon Empire's official archival records, although some details might be skewed due to ideological biases, it was enough to let Morin's 【Intelligence】 interface unlock more information.

"So, Colonel Morin, why the sudden interest in the history of the Great Rus Empire?" Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai asked suddenly. He hadn't expected the Saxon Empire's "Golden Boy" to seek him out just to read archives today.

Morin replied, "Since I'm heading to the Eastern Front soon, I figure I should learn about the people I'll be dealing with in advance. Understanding their internal factional dynamics is better than arriving there completely blind."

"Then take your time. There's quite a lot in the archives regarding the Great Rus Empire. The Empire's high command pays close attention to what happens over there. I recall we sent quite a few 'crisis travelers' over to gather intelligence at the time..."

Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai stood up as he spoke.

"The shifts in power among the various factions after the civil war broke out, the internal contradictions within the main factions, and our records of prior contacts with all sides are in the second cabinet. I have some other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave first."

Morin waved his hand. "Go handle your business, Lieutenant Colonel. Next time, let's grab a drink at the beer hall!"

Nikolai agreed with a smile and left the room. Morin was now alone in the archives.

He reopened the files, reading much more carefully this time, and quickly immersed himself in this history that was entirely different from his old world.

And the starting point of it all traced back to this world's Crimean War, from 1853 to 1856.

It was precisely in that war that the Great Rus Empire's disastrous defeat made all of Europa realize that "Greater Rus" was no longer the invincible land hegemon.