Chapter 544: Fine, If He Reinforces, I’ll Reinforce Too!

Having been in this world for so long, Morin was rarely frightened.

Even the "heaven and earth anomaly" in Bucharest had only stunned him for a moment.

But this time, a genuine shiver ran down his spine, and he shot up straight in his chair as if propelled by a spring.

Seville, the sun-drenched city on the Iberian Peninsula, held extraordinary significance for Morin. It was his first stop after transmigrating to this world.

Morin always thought that once the Empire's wars were finally over and he could retire successfully, he would take Cecilia and the others there, find a manor, and settle down. They would bask in the sun and eat oranges every day, bidding a permanent farewell to these wretched wars.

Yet now, this very city had become the "pivot" that moved the world in Rasputin's prophecy.

'Are they doxxing me now... This can't be a coincidence, right?'

"The city of orange blossoms and blood"... Seville was indeed famous for its orange blossoms, and the city's history never lacked bloodshed.

In the world before Morin's transmigration, Seville had experienced the Moorish conquest, the Reconquista, and the Inquisition... In this world, Seville under the Kingdom of Aragon was equally restless.

But what did Rasputin mean by "pivoting the world's geopolitical situation"?

The spark of the World War was the Sarajevo incident—something that happened in the Balkans, completely unrelated to Seville.

Unless... Rasputin's prophecy didn't refer to the war that had already broken out, but rather to Morin himself.

After all, as a transmigrator, he truly had started in Seville, walking step by step to a position where he could influence the direction of this great war.

Don't overthink it... Morin pressed his temples hard, pushing down this overly "narcissistic" hypothesis for now.

Regardless, a "Holy Fool" who could accurately predict natural disasters, cure the Spellplague, and slaughter an entire squad of Imperial Guards while surrounded could not be taken lightly.

"Could he actually be a true 'Holy Fool'..."

Morin dutifully tucked away his previous joking mentality regarding the "28 centimeters."

Before stumbling upon these archives, Morin's impression of Rasputin had remained stuck on the bizarre legends of his old world—mainly that outrageous rumor about his lower half.

But now, it seemed this man's actual capabilities far exceeded expectations.

Morin sat back down and continued flipping through the remaining files.

The records of Rasputin entering the core of power were even more detailed. It was obvious that the Saxon Empire's intelligence gathering in the Great Rus Empire during that period was quite thorough.

It was just a mystery why their intelligence gathering on the Britannians was so abysmal...

After curing the Tsarevich's Spellplague, Rasputin's influence within the Empire swelled at an almost unbelievable rate.

Nicholas II and Empress Alexandra had the Tsarevich revere him as "Holy Father," and they consulted him before making any major decisions.

And Rasputin was indeed not just a charlatan who only knew how to make "prophecies." His advice produced quite positive effects in the short term.

For instance, he advised the Tsar to suspend military adventures toward the Balkans and concentrate resources on domestic railways and industrial construction.

This advice allowed the Empire to catch its breath for a few years following the Second Crimean War.

As another example, he proposed a "Land Redemption Act," which allowed landlords to sell land to peasants at prices far below market value, with the treasury subsidizing the difference.

Although this plan bled the treasury dry, it did suppress the most intense conflicts in the rural areas for a short time.

Looking at the results, the Great Rus Empire seemed to be improving. But reading between the lines of the archives, Morin realized this was nothing but terminal lucidity.

All of Rasputin's actions were essentially "buying time."

The Land Redemption Act hollowed out the treasury, railway construction relied on foreign loans, and suspending military operations cost the Great Rus Empire international prestige and face...

These costs were masked in the short term by Rasputin's personal prestige and string of successful prophecies, but every debt was accumulating in the shadows.

Even more fatally, in just half a year, Rasputin used various methods to replace over twenty mid-to-high-ranking officials, elevating people who previously had no notable achievements.

Worst of all, he personally led the Imperial Guards into the streets to suppress multiple strikes and armed riots in St. Petersburg.

Result-wise, the suppression worked... The riots were put down, and order returned to the streets.

But politically speaking, his actions offended everyone.

The old nobility hated him because he touched their power and positions. The emerging bourgeoisie hated him because he ruined their investment environment. The working class hated him because he was the one directly ordering the troops to open fire. The military hated him because he treated the Imperial Guards like his personal armed force. Even a faction within the Church hated him because his existence hollowed out the Orthodox Church's authority...

Thus, time advanced to March 10, 1910 (February on the Julian calendar).

Prince Yusupov, Grand Duke Dmitri of the royal family, right-wing Duma deputy Vladimir Purishkevich, and Yusupov's close friend Captain Sukhotin set a trap at the Yusupov Palace in St. Petersburg.

"The bait was... Princess Irina?"

Morin shook his head as he read the name.

Prince Yusupov's wife, Princess Irina, was known at the time as "the most beautiful woman in Rus," and Rasputin's "interest" in beautiful women was an open secret.

Using a honey trap to lure a "Holy Fool"... Honestly, in the world before his transmigration, Morin would have just considered this a comical farce.

But Rasputin in this world wasn't merely a charlatan surviving on parlor tricks and mysticism.

According to the entries completed by the 【Information】 interface, the events of that night completely exceeded the assassins' expectations.

An entire squad of elite, heavily armed soldiers was ambushed in advance within the Yusupov Palace, allegedly even with Britannian assistance.

And then Rasputin killed them all...

The archives didn't detail the combat of that night because all the ambushers except Rasputin died. There was only one quote later relayed by a surviving servant...

"A manic aura surged from the hall, and everyone was screaming."

After the assassination attempt completely failed, Rasputin announced that Prince Yusupov had tried to launch a coup but was ultimately stopped by him. He then declared martial law in St. Petersburg on behalf of the Tsar.

And this directly pushed the situation to a point of no return.

"This is the classic 'package an assassination attempt on yourself as a coup' move..." Morin muttered to himself as he turned the page. "But pulling this stunt means he completely lost control of the narrative."

A "Holy Fool" of unknown origin declaring martial law in the capital in the Emperor's name, without anyone knowing if the Tsar had genuinely authorized it.

This was no longer an issue of overstepping authority; this was a blatant usurpation of imperial power.

Even if few in Great Rus truly cared whether Prince Yusupov lived or died, the perception that "Rasputin is attempting to sideline the Tsar and control the Empire" transformed overnight from a rumor into a fact witnessed by all.

The first to react was the army in St. Petersburg.

A young lieutenant of the 4th Company, Volynsky Regiment of the St. Petersburg Imperial Guard tore up the deployment order on the spot after receiving the martial law patrol command.

According to various records afterward, the lieutenant's full name was Timofey Kirillovich Kornilov. He was only twenty-three, from a minor noble family, and had graduated from the military academy less than two years prior.

His reason for refusing the order was extremely direct: "I swore allegiance to His Majesty the Tsar, not to a peasant claiming to represent him."

After that, things developed at a speed far beyond anyone's imagination.

Following Lieutenant Kornilov's refusal, almost the entire 4th Company turned their guns around simultaneously. They arrested all the noble officers in the company and regimental headquarters who chose to execute Rasputin's martial law order.

This news spread throughout the entire St. Petersburg garrison system before dawn.

By daybreak, all three battalions of the Volynsky Regiment declared their refusal to obey the "illegal order," followed closely by elements of the Pavlovsky and Preobrazhensky Regiments.

Reading this record, Morin recalled a concept he learned in the military academy: the "avalanche effect" in military discipline.

In certain high-pressure environments, when the first person steps forward to say "no," everyone else who has been holding their breath finds a reason to act.

What was worse was that these honor-bound Imperial Guard units contained a large number of soldiers and junior officers who had participated in the Second Crimean War.

Their memories of the suffering on the front lines were fresh, and they harbored deep-seated resentment toward Rasputin's blind commands from the rear.

Though in reality, this "Holy Fool" hadn't even entered the upper echelons' sight during the Second Crimean War...

The soldiers of the Imperial Guard still aimed their grievances at Rasputin.

At noon on March 11, troops rallying under the slogan "Overthrow the Demon Monk, Return Power to the Emperor" began amassing toward the Winter Palace.

Rasputin still held an armed Guard force loyal to him, along with some court mages and royal guard knights, who were deployed to form a defensive line around the Winter Palace.

At 3:00 PM, the first gunshot shattered the tranquility along the Neva River, followed by over ten hours of intense urban warfare.

Looking at the force comparison, the attackers held an absolute advantage... Over ten thousand well-trained Imperial Guard soldiers, plus a continuous influx of armed workers and various revolutionaries.

The defenders' two thousand men seemed desperate, but they held the geographical advantage of the Winter Palace complex and had the support of court mages.

In this world where supernatural powers existed, a small number of powerful spellcasters could play a role in a defensive battle far exceeding conventional understanding.

The archives contained an after-action recollection from an attacking officer:

"...Every time we tried to launch a frontal assault from Palace Square, we were bombarded by some kind of power. Sometimes it was fire, sometimes ice cones, sometimes we couldn't see anything at all, but men would just drop dead..."

"...In the first two hours, we organized at least six charges, and all were repelled..."

"...The square was littered with bodies. The blood dyed the snow red..."

But as those bourgeois revolutionaries brought in heavy weapons "borrowed" from the arsenals, and some defecting royal mages began applying pressure to the Winter Palace's defense line, the tide irreversibly tilted toward the attackers.

Around midnight, the outer defensive line of the Winter Palace was breached. The defenders retreated into the palace interior, and the attackers flooded in right behind them.

The final decisive battle took place in St. George's Hall of the Winter Palace.

Tsar Nicholas II was jointly suppressed by three defecting royal mages, while Rasputin faced the main attacking force alone.

Facing the siege of hundreds of Imperial Guard soldiers and multiple spellcasters, the combat power displayed by this "Holy Fool" once again aroused Morin's intense curiosity regarding his true identity.

The archives held the recollection of an artillery officer involved in the siege:

"...We pushed two infantry guns to the hall entrance and fired point-blank at that man."

"When the first shell was fired, he was still standing... The second shell, still standing... The third..."

He finally fell, but two seconds later, he got back up.

"The company commander ordered a salvo. All gun crews fired together, and we exhausted all the shells we brought with us..."

"After the smoke cleared, half of the hall's dome had collapsed, scattering rubble and charred wood everywhere. That man finally stopped moving..."

Except, when the dust settled and the crowd found Rasputin's corpse, they discovered that although his clothes had been destroyed by artillery fire, there were not many visible physical wounds on his body.

This was beyond what could be explained away merely as a "high-circle spellcaster." Morin himself, enhanced by the "Heaven No. 3" serum, possessed physical capabilities far beyond ordinary men, but if he were shot point-blank by an infantry gun...

He subconsciously touched his ribs... Never mind, better not think about it.

In their terror, the revolutionary army directly burned Rasputin's corpse in Palace Square, not resting until it was entirely reduced to ashes.

Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin.

The story of this name ended there.

"A 'Holy Fool' who could predict the future, cure the Spellplague, and solo an army..."

"What circle of spellcaster... is this guy exactly?"

Morin's brows knitted tightly.

From the currently available information, Rasputin's abilities went far beyond just "prophecy."

"Curing the Spellplague" indicated he might also be proficient in Transmutation or Abjuration magic, while slaughtering the Imperial Guards during a siege showed his direct combat power was also terrifying.

A spellcaster who could simultaneously master multiple schools of magic without triggering the "Spellplague"?

This thought sent a slight chill down Morin's spine, because he himself was exactly that kind of person.

The difference was that Morin relied on his system, while Rasputin...

"What did he rely on?"

However, this question clearly wouldn't be answered for a long time.

Following Rasputin's death, St. Petersburg's imperial central apparatus ground to a halt in the chaos.

Conflicts also began to erupt within the complex ranks of the revolutionary army. Some felt that with the "Demon Monk" dead, power had been returned to the Tsar. But many more believed that Nicholas II was no longer capable of leading the country.

Portions of the St. Petersburg garrison declared their allegiance to the Revolutionary Committee.

A day later, Moscow announced the formation of a Provisional Autonomous Committee, and the border regions successively declared they would stop accepting imperial orders.

Nicholas II also realized that the collapse of this massive empire was irreversible.

On the afternoon of March 15, 1910, witnessed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard, Duma representatives, and high-ranking Orthodox clergy, the Tsar signed the Act of Abdication, renouncing the title of Emperor of Rus and all hereditary rights.

All of Rus immersed itself in the revelry of the "new era has arrived."

The archives in Morin's hands recorded that in late March 1910, the streets of St. Petersburg were filled with parading crowds. Workers hoisted various flags, and soldiers fired countless "celebratory shots" into the sky.

Meanwhile, the royalist nobles locked their doors, awaiting their fate in fear and anxiety.

On March 20, representatives of the Constitutionalists, the Socialist Revolutionary Party, the Bolsheviks, the Mensheviks, and various nationalist organizations gathered at the Winter Palace to announce the formation of the "Provisional Constitutional Government of Rus."

The archives included a rough list of the attending representatives that day. Morin counted, and there were nearly twenty different political groups in total.

With just a little mental deduction, the conclusion was obvious: this thing could not possibly last.

Sure enough, on the very day the Provisional Government was formed, the first to cause trouble were some court mages and high-ranking Orthodox clergy, who publicly stated their refusal to recognize it.

Their reasons were varied... Some claimed the assembly wasn't generated through legal election procedures; others claimed there were "blasphemers" in the revolutionary army; and some straightforwardly stated they were unwilling to sit in the same room as atheists like the Bolsheviks.

As for the internal contradictions within the Provisional Government, there was absolutely no intention of hiding them from day one.

How to allocate assembly seats? Should land reform be radical or moderate? How to deal with the abdicated Tsar's family? Should ethnic minority regions be granted autonomy? And the most crucial point of all... who gets control of the army?

Every single issue was a ticking time bomb that couldn't possibly be defused in the short term.

As Morin flipped through these archives, a massive wave of absurdity washed over him. These people had just joined forces to overthrow a rotting empire, only to immediately turn around and tear each other apart over dividing the spoils.

But honestly, he wasn't surprised in the least.

In Morin's eyes, that a political alliance composed of such extremely complex elements had lasted even this long was a miracle.

And the history of his other world had long proven that revolution is easy; building is hard.

Overthrowing an old regime only requires a common enemy, but establishing a new order requires compromise and consensus.

Clearly, the Russians of 1910 were not adept at either.

Then came another "explosive point" in this bizarre revolution.

March 21, the second day of the First Constitutional Assembly.

The Bolsheviks, a party with extremely high prestige among workers and soldiers and holding the third-largest number of seats in the Provisional Government, convened an internal meeting at a secret venue in St. Petersburg.

But less than half an hour into the meeting, pre-planted bombs detonated inside the venue.

Immediately after, dozens of heavily armed assassins breached from multiple directions, systematically massacring the surviving delegates.

The upper echelons of the Bolsheviks were virtually uprooted in a single day.

Morin stared at the casualty list in the archives for a long time. Among the dead listed, there were several names he was intimately familiar with from the other world.

Of course, in this world, these individuals never even had the chance to display their ambitions to "change the world," dying just like that in the ruins of some obscure venue.

Subsequent investigations revealed the attackers were Royalists, elements of the Imperial Guard remnants fiercely loyal to the royal family, and members of the former imperial secret police.

Obviously, this was retaliation from the old powers.

However, a massive number of people also pointed the finger at the Constitutionalists in the Provisional Government.

Because according to the interrogation confession of an assassin who was ultimately captured, the reason they were able to accurately locate the Bolsheviks' secret meeting place was that members of the "Constitutionalists"—who held the most seats in the Provisional Government—had tipped them off.

Whether it was true or a frame-up, the existing archives couldn't provide a conclusion.

Furthermore, according to intelligence gathered by the Saxon Empire, it seemed the Britannians were also pulling strings behind this assassination of the Bolshevik party delegates.

But the end result was clear: trust within the Provisional Government collapsed completely.

Surviving Bolshevik members and sympathizers demanded a thorough investigation into the Constitutionalists' responsibility, while the Constitutionalists vehemently insisted they had nothing to do with it.

To quell public outrage and divert everyone's attention, the remaining factions in the Provisional Government reached a consensus—pin all the blame on the abdicated Tsar Nicholas II.

They declared that Nicholas II had masterminded the royalist remnants' assassination attempt from behind the scenes, intending to disrupt the revolutionary ranks.

In early April 1910, a public trial was held in Palace Square.

The entire process was extremely simple, essentially just a formality... The prosecution read the charges, "witnesses" lined up on stage to make accusations, and the defense had no opportunity to speak.

The verdict was predetermined—death by hanging for the former royal family members, including Tsarevich Alexei, who was incredibly frail after being tormented by the "Spellplague."

In the world before Morin's transmigration, the Tsar's family was secretly executed in Yekaterinburg. But this world opted for a public hanging... in a sense, it was even crueler, stripping the royal family of their final shred of dignity.

And from a purely political analysis perspective, the Provisional Government's maneuver to execute the Tsar's family did succeed in diverting conflicts in the short term.

But in the long run, it was equivalent to permanently shutting the door on any possibility of reconciling with the old noble factions in the future.

After news of the royal family's execution spread, massive numbers of old imperial officers and nobles cleanly broke with the Provisional Government.

Prior to this, although most of them held a wait-and-see attitude toward the revolution, they at least hadn't openly opposed it. Kolchak had even publicly sworn allegiance to the Provisional Government.

Because after the Tsar's abdication, many still harbored the illusion that "the new government might bring stability to Rus."

But the scene on the gallows shattered all illusions.

A large number of old noble officers, including Kolchak, had already been subjected to control and house arrest prior to this.

The Provisional Government's stance toward them was "temporarily restrict freedom of movement but guarantee personal safety"... But after the public execution of the Tsar, these detained officers realized that if they didn't flee now, the next ones swinging on the gallows would be them.

"If even the Tsar can be subjected to capital punishment, who will be purged next?"

This thought spread madly in the minds of all old nobles and former imperial officers.

Morin had to sigh; the Rus Provisional Government of this world was even more outrageous in its blundering operations than the version in the world before his transmigration.

At least the provisional government in that world lasted until October before being overthrown, but the provisional government in this world... only lasted until August.

The Britannians and Gauls joined forces to help Kolchak escape house arrest. Afterward, he rallied his former subordinates and imperial soldiers willing to follow him... This was the origin of what later became the "Supreme Autocratic Principality of All Rus."

And leading an army composed largely of former imperial soldiers, he fought his way all the way back to St. Petersburg.

The Provisional Government proved fragile before Kolchak's offensive. Fleeing St. Petersburg in a panic with barely any resistance, they eventually retreated to Kyiv, barely managing to maintain a foothold thanks to support provided by the Saxon Empire from the west.

Because to the Saxons, a weak, divided Rus aligned far better with their interests than a Rus unified by a military strongman.

Across the vast lands of Great Rus, the bloody civil war that had persisted to this day was thus inaugurated.

Morin soaked in the archives for nearly a whole day. It wasn't until the sky outside had completely darkened and the wall lamps in the corridor lit up that he shoved the final document back into the cabinet.

Massaging his aching neck, Morin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

The 【Intelligence】 interface in his mind had already integrated all the information regarding the Great Rus Empire—from its fall to the civil war, to the current paradigm—into a complete "knowledge tree," ready for him to access at any time.

And his current summarized conclusion was simply this: the "ally" the Saxon Empire supported on the Eastern Front remained incredibly unreliable...

The Western Rus Provisional National Government was, frankly speaking, the very same group that had fled all the way from St. Petersburg to Kyiv back then.

Its leader, Kerensky, was an indecisive character even during the Provisional Government era, and his prestige was completely non-existent after being routed by Kolchak.

The only presentable asset they had were the veterans of the International Brigades who had accrued combat experience during the Kingdom of Aragon's civil war—the very first people Morin had interacted with after transmigrating to this world.

As for the rest of Western Rus's forces, they were essentially peasants pulled straight from the fields, stuffed into uniforms using various slogans, and sent straight to the battlefield.

Meanwhile, the Bolshevik remnants, due to issues of pure survival, were also forced to integrate and continue cooperating, adding even more flavor to this messy pot of porridge.

Two factions with vastly different ideologies tied together to fight a war... the internal coordination alone was enough to drive a commander insane.

"The fine German tradition of matchmaking teammates transcends worlds..."

Morin sighed and stood up.

Let's not even talk about the teammates the Germans matched with during the First World War in the other world... It was universally acknowledged to be abysmal. Even for the Kingdom of Bulgaria with its 29% mobilization rate, that absurd mobilization rate was the only thing worth mentioning.

The Saxons of this world were a real treat; besides other dead-weight teammates, they had also matched with an exiled regime that got its capital knocked out in a civil war.

The only saving grace was that the newly joined "Papal Theocracy" currently seemed quite capable in a fight, and they came with a religious buff bonus, which somewhat made up for the deficiencies.

However, compared to the quality of these friendly forces, Morin was more concerned about another issue.

The Commander-in-Chief of the Saxon Empire's Eighth Army on the Eastern Front, Hindenburg... and his Chief of Staff, Ludendorff.

Morin was quite familiar with the experiences of these two in the other world.

The former later became the President of the Weimar Republic. While the process and outcome were subtle, it at least proved he wasn't a character content to remain just a soldier... The latter was essentially Germany's de facto military dictator in the late stages of WWI.

Ambition. The common denominator between these two men was their burning ambition.

Morin had already been severely screwed over by Ludendorff once on the Western Front. The man's credit score in Morin's book was so low he couldn't even borrow a power bank...

Therefore, heading to the Eastern Front next, the Instruction Brigade must maintain sufficient independence.

Morin didn't want his troops to be treated as pawns by Hindenburg and Ludendorff, moved around at their whim.

With these thoughts in mind, Morin returned to the Instruction Brigade's garrison.

In the days that followed, the Instruction Brigade's training grounds presented a bustling scene every single day.

The expansion had been completed, and the final batch of supplementary recruits was undergoing the final stage of intensive training. Morin spent a significant portion of his energy adjusting the officer corps.

The command hierarchy of a brigade-level unit was far more complex than that of a regiment. Morin couldn't possibly handle everything personally like before; he needed a highly efficient command system... And the officers under his command could indeed share much of this burden.

"Commander, I wish to command the infantry regiment."

Kleist was the first to volunteer.

This staff officer, who had followed Morin since the Instruction Brigade's inception, had already demonstrated outstanding coordination and command capabilities in battles big and small.

But he had always remained at brigade headquarters as Morin's deputy, lacking the complete experience of independently commanding frontline troops.

Thus, he hoped to gain more direct command experience with frontline units. Morin gladly agreed, as the infantry regiment was the foundation of the Instruction Brigade, and he wanted a reliable person to command it.

And Kleist was undoubtedly a highly suitable choice...

After Kleist departed, Morin had already decided on the candidate to replace his staff position.

Gerd von Rundstedt.

This major, newly drafted to the Instruction Brigade by Morin's specific request, was over a dozen years older than Morin, but he showed not the slightest dissatisfaction at being a staff officer for a colonel so much younger than himself.

On the contrary, on his first day reporting for duty, he displayed extremely high professional competence and a keen interest in the Instruction Brigade's combat philosophy.

Rundstedt, Manstein, and Paulus partnered up, forming the new "Iron Triangle" of the brigade headquarters' staff.

Incidentally, Paulus had also submitted a request to go to the infantry regiment prior to this. When he brought it up, Morin was drinking coffee and nearly choked.

"Reason?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Kleist has gone to the infantry regiment, and I feel I should also strive for frontline command experience."

Paulus spoke very earnestly, demonstrating a highly ambitious attitude. Clearly, he genuinely wanted to temper himself in a frontline unit.

But what Morin thought of was something else entirely... The Army, Paulus, fighting the Ivans on the Eastern Front, the approaching winter...

These elements combined were enough to have a decidedly negative impact on Morin.

While Morin knew very well that the trajectory of this world wouldn't necessarily mirror the other, and Paulus's actual capabilities weren't bad, that psychological shadow... was truly difficult to shake off.

"Denied."

Paulus was momentarily stunned.

"The brigade headquarters' staff group is already struggling being one man short. Rundstedt just arrived and isn't familiar with the situation yet, and Erich can't shoulder all the work alone."

Morin provided a reasonable and logical excuse for refusal: "Your position in the staff group cannot be changed for now. We will discuss it after the battles on the Eastern Front are concluded."

Paulus opened his mouth to speak but ultimately saluted and stepped out.

Arrangements for the other officers went much smoother.

Rommel and Model continued serving in the infantry regiment. They both received promotions in rank and the size of the units they commanded; at the very least, their promotion speed was far faster than their historical counterparts in WWI.

These two's performances on the Balkan Peninsula were obvious to all, especially Rommel, whose frontline infantry command was remarkably brilliant. Giving them more troops to operate freely was absolutely no problem.

Guderian was transferred to Lieutenant Colonel Weichs' Armored Instruction Regiment, and going with him was Captain Hoth, who had been drafted alongside Major Rundstedt.

Over in the Artillery Instruction Regiment, Albert Kesselring continued to serve as a staff officer.

As for the brigade's aviation unit... the experimental aviation squadron Lieutenant General Strasser had promised last time was now officially attached to the Instruction Brigade's establishment, though the aircraft themselves had not yet arrived.

Looking at the pilot roster, the names Richthofen, Immelmann, and Student filled Morin with a deep sense of reassurance.

Morin looked over the final personnel adjustment plan one last time, then signed his name.

The lineup on paper... calling it "luxurious" would be an understatement; it was a pure "Ultra Rare (UR)" squad.

Among these men were future Field Marshals, future Army Group Commanders, the Father of Armored Warfare, and the Desert Fox... While those were matters of another world, talent and capability wouldn't disappear simply because the worldline was different.

"Now this is a true All-Star lineup... Though we'll be facing the Ivans on the Eastern Front..."

The smile vanished from Morin's face for a moment as he clearly recalled something, but it quickly returned to normal.

"But this time around, even the Bolsheviks are teammates, so it shouldn't be a big deal~"

"Morin, oh Morin, you can't keep scaring yourself~"

Five days later.

Dresden, the Ministry of War building.

The collective promotion ceremony Morin had long anticipated was held in the Ministry of War's grand hall. In addition to a group of officers from the Instruction Brigade, officers from other units who had performed outstandingly on the Eastern and Western Fronts also attended.

The entire hall was packed. The Imperial Guard military band played majestic martial music on one side of the hall, while various epaulets and medals glinted under the lights.

Field Marshal of the Imperial Army, Moltke the Younger, personally presided over the ceremony.

When Morin's name was called, the hall fell silent for a moment. As he walked to the front, he could feel the gaze of almost everyone in the room fixing on him.

His peers were Second Lieutenants and First Lieutenants... He was a Major General.

It was just... you know.

As Field Marshal Moltke handed the Major General epaulets to him, Morin had to admit he was genuinely thrilled.

The star of a general... the ultimate goal so many soldiers spent their entire lives striving for?

But those who could ultimately achieve this goal were limited. And in this world, seizing the opportunity of rampant warfare and fighting with all his might, he had finally realized this dream...

"...By the special proposal of the Imperial Army General Staff and the Imperial Ministry of War, and with the personal approval of His Majesty the Emperor, Friedrich von Morin... is hereby promoted to Major General of the Imperial Army, effective immediately."

After the ceremony, Minister of War Falkenhayn called Morin aside into the corridor.

"Colonel Morin... wait, I should call you Major General Morin now~" Minister Falkenhayn cracked a rare smile and a joke.

Morin replied, "Your Excellency, please don't tease me."

Seeing Morin's expression, Falkenhayn's smile widened, but he quickly returned to his usual serious demeanor.

"The transfer orders for the Eastern Front have come down." The Minister of War handed over a sealed envelope. "The Fourth Army will set out first. Your Instruction Brigade will follow as the army's direct reserve force."

Morin took the envelope but didn't open it immediately. Instead, he asked a question.

"The Fourth Army... commanded by Crown Prince Albrecht?"

【The last Crown Prince of Württemberg】

"Yes." Falkenhayn nodded. "A decision made personally by His Majesty the Emperor. Crown Prince Albrecht's performance on the Western Front was commendable. Reassigning him to the Eastern Front this time is also due to his steady command style; he can act as a safety net for Hindenburg and the others."

Morin nodded and tucked the envelope into his inner breast pocket. This arrangement provided him a bit more peace of mind; having more friendly forces around certainly wasn't a bad thing.

"One more thing." Falkenhayn lowered his voice slightly. "The White Army is reinforcing..."

"Intelligence relayed from the Eighth Army the day before yesterday indicates that on the White Army's side, Kolchak and Denikin are conducting a new round of mobilization in their respective controlled areas and massively reinforcing the front lines."

Morin's brow twitched. He instantly understood why the Fourth Army had also been transferred to the Eastern Front—clearly, it was to counter the White Army's reinforcement efforts.

After all, when there wasn't a generational gap in combat power between opposing forces, a numerical advantage was enough to tip the scales of war.

"Where are they getting the resources to support a mobilization of this scale?"

"The Northern Sea Route."

Falkenhayn spoke slowly: "The military alliance treaty between the Kalmar Union and the Britannians was just signed last month. The northern sea route is now completely unimpeded... Britannian supplies can be shipped via water or transferred through the Kalmar Union."

Morin remained silent for a few seconds as he recalled the Trans-Siberian Railway he had seen in the archives.

At the time, the 【Intelligence】 interface had generated information indicating that this railway spanning across Siberia was fully operational, allowing the White Army to receive support from the North American colonies as well.

Morin said, "So we must launch an offensive before they complete their mobilization?"

"That is Field Marshal Moltke's opinion at the General Staff." Falkenhayn nodded. "Specific operational plans will be issued uniformly by the Army Group Command once you arrive on the Eastern Front, but you need to be mentally prepared. Your deployment orders should be coming any day now."

"General, what about the plan I proposed to you and Field Marshal Moltke last time?"

"It has been approved. You are permitted to maneuver overland to the border railway station before boarding the trains, using this opportunity to test the marching capabilities of your mechanized units."

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