Chapter 816: Chapter 42 Tomorrow’s Smile, is the Spring Flowers Everywhere (8.3K)_4

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Only the head of the spies clapped as always: “Your Majesty is wise!”

——–

Eagle’s Nest, Minister of Propaganda’s office, 30 minutes later.

The Minister of Propaganda locked the door and then pressed the button next to it. A metal grille rose in front of the office window, sealing the last opening, turning the office into a complete Faraday cage. Even if there were listening devices in the room, their signals could not be transmitted.

This device was the result of the Minister of Propaganda having bribed General Ferdinand, who was in charge of constructing Eagle’s Nest. He believed that even the Emperor was unaware of the existence of this Faraday cage.

Probably.

After setting this up, he turned towards the guest who had already been waiting in the room.

The Celtic Marshal, still carrying injuries, asked: “How do you feel? After Giles died, the Emperor’s mental state became somewhat hysterical, right?”

The Minister of Propaganda went over to the liquor cabinet, pulled out a cocktail shaker, and started to mix a drink.

The Celtic Marshal continued: “Those people from Valkyrie, perhaps their intentions were good, but now they’ve made a mess of things, and the Empire of Prosen is sliding towards the abyss.”

The Minister of Propaganda poured the contents of the shaker into a stemmed glass, satisfied with the hue of the liquid.

He lifted his glass, turned to face the Celtic Marshal: “When the Empire was advancing triumphantly, you were quite enjoying it!”

The Celtic Marshal turned away, avoiding the Minister of Propaganda’s gaze.

The Minister of Propaganda took a sip of his own concoction, and continued:

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“After occupying the whole of Europa, the generals first preached about landing in the United Kingdom, but then the Royal Air Force blew up the hard-gathered barges, and they grudgingly admitted that landing in the United Kingdom was a doomed venture.

“But right after that, the generals turned their eyes to the East, beginning to howl about completing the great endeavor that the Conqueror of the past failed to finish.

“Was the attack on Ante truly driven by the Emperor’s will alone? What do you think, Marshal?”

The Celtic Marshal: “It’s pointless to delve into these matters now.”

“It is significant! Once the Empire falls, these will be the basis for our sentences. Do you think that by assassinating the Emperor, everything will be fine? Do you think the United States and Ante would give up the reckoning?

“Of course, that slippery United Kingdom might indeed give up on the reckoning, because they want the balance of the continent!

“But the other two at the meeting in Balas are straining at the leash to hang us all.”

The Minister of Propaganda switched the glass to his left hand, freeing his right hand to point at the Celtic Marshal:

“I can’t escape, and neither can you!”

The Marshal lowered his head.

The Minister of Propaganda finished his drink, exhaling deeply: “So in my view, it’s okay to be a little crazy now; perhaps being crazy is what will block Ante’s offensive. We have three defense lines, the West Wall, the Zigfei Defense Line, and the Bug River defense line at the Melania Border.

“If hysteria can keep these three lines, then there’s still a glimmer of hope!”

The Celtic Marshal: “You would do better to hope that those madmen at the Imperial Academy of Sciences can change everything.”

“But they can’t change anything, the initial battle with night vision gear has already failed. Today, the V2 missile will have its first battle, do you think it will be effective? They say it can snipe Rocossov, but I somehow don’t believe it,” the Minister of Propaganda put the glass back in the cabinet, and once again started to prepare another drink.

The Celtic Marshal: “Aren’t you going to make one for me?”

The Minister of Propaganda silently reached for a second glass.

After the new drink was ready, the Minister of Propaganda handed one of the glasses to the Celtic Marshal and then raised his glass: “To the success of the V2 rocket’s first battle!”

“Success,” the Celtic Marshal raised his glass, “Damn, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve heard that word, victory.”

——–

Wang Zhong suddenly heard a sharp whistling in the sky, followed swiftly by an explosion that burst into his ears.

Then a mob of ten thousand people rushed towards him, knocking him to the ground.

Wang Zhong: “Damn it, are you trying to crush me to death? Think about your weight!”

Anteans might not be tall, but most are solidly built, heavy enough indeed. Fortunately, there was no second explosion, so after being firmly pressed against Wang Zhong for nearly two minutes, the guards finally let him up.

Wang Zhong: “I need a doctor! I might be internally bleeding from being crushed by you bastards!”

At this moment, he couldn’t help but recall the President of America who had been hit by a battering ram by Special Service Bureau agents against a bulletproof limousine; was it Carter?

Wang Zhong stood up, telling the others: “Figure out what blew us up.”

In truth, he had already guessed what it was. It must be either a V1 or a V2; Prosen had greater capabilities than the Earth’s Sturmtigers, it was about time they came up with such an “Empire decisive battle weapon.”

He switched his perspective and quickly located where the missile had hit. A building was completely destroyed; the surrounding buildings also suffered damage – although Ronez City already had a lot of ruins that had no time to be repaired or cleared, and it was uncertain whether these ruins were a product of the missile or had already been there.

Something had sparked a fire, and thick smoke was rising.

Fire trucks and ambulances were on the way – these were still provided by the Prosens, who seemed like they really wanted to stay in Ronez forever, “turning Ronez into a jewel of the Pulosenia Nation by the White Sea.”

Wang Zhong switched back to his own bodily perspective just in time to see the commander of the anti-aircraft artillery troops running towards him.

“Comrade Marshal,” the anti-aircraft artillery General saluted Wang Zhong, “All of our anti-aircraft observation posts did not see the attacking enemy aircraft for this strike, and the radar stations also had no record of the enemy aircraft.”

The radar stations near Ronez had only been set up last month, and they were still using the generators left behind by the Prosens.

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