amaotonovel Chapter 1367 I am with you
Chapter 1367 I am with you
In the painting, Shahar grins as he hands gold coins and resources to a grotesque robot; the battlefield is littered with the corpses of Slavic soldiers.
People were driven by soldiers with bayonets into a hail of bullets, while Shahar drank and made merry in his magnificent palace, and outside the window were burning cities and weeping women and children... Every picture was shocking.
Meanwhile, Wei Wuji's air force base also became busy.
One by one, specially selected glider bombers and transport planes with optimal high-altitude performance were towed out of the hangar.
Ground crew crammed the cabin with bundles of leaflets and freshly printed posters, still smelling of ink, like loading ammunition...
As darkness gradually fell.
A tragic yet fanatical atmosphere of oppression permeated the capital of the Slavic Empire. The incited masses, armed with all sorts of weapons, surged toward the city walls and barricades under the command of soldiers, many with wet tears and distorted expressions of resolute determination to "defend their homeland."
Suddenly, an unusual, deep engine roar came from afar, approaching from the high sky.
"Look! The sky!" someone exclaimed in alarm, pointing to the sky.
Dozens of tiny black dots appeared below the clouds, sunlight occasionally piercing through gaps and reflecting a cold sheen onto their wings. They flew extremely high, like a flock of giant steel eagles soaring in a place inaccessible to humans.
"It's an iron bird belonging to East Asians!"
Panic began to spread among the crowd, who instinctively huddled together, thinking that a devastating bombing was imminent.
However, the expected explosion and flames did not occur.
The planes high in the sky seemed to be gracefully skimming over the city.
Immediately afterwards, a strange "snow" began to fall.
It wasn't snowflakes, but countless white paper scraps! Densely packed, like a giant swarm of white butterflies, swept up by the cold wind high above, swirling and fluttering down, covering every corner of the capital.
Rooftops, streets, squares, and even the city walls crowded with people were covered with this peculiar "snow".
"It's paper! East Asians scattered paper!" Someone picked up a sheet in confusion.
“There are pictures on it! And words on it!” A literate craftsman was the first to discover the key.
Curiosity overcame fear. More and more people bent down to pick up the scraps of paper around them.
As more and more people see these drawings and texts created by Han Da, they are becoming more and more popular.
These drawings follow the imagery, one of which shows Shahar kneeling at the feet of a mysterious figure shrouded in shadow, offering a chest full of gold coins with both hands, next to which is a map of Slavic lands.
The next picture shows rows of Slavic soldiers being pushed onto the battlefield by the cold muzzles of robots' guns, with piles of corpses in the background.
The next painting is the most shocking! Shahar stands on the magnificent terrace of the palace, raising a glass, while below, countless people in tattered clothes—the elderly, women holding children, and teenagers—are being pushed by soldiers with bayonets pressed against their backs towards the dense barrage of gunfire in the foreground!
A line of large characters next to it reads: "He traded your lives for his own survival!"
The final scene depicts a whole wall of paintings: soldiers of the East Asian Federation distributing food to people and children who have laid down their weapons, with the words: "Lay down your weapons, and we will give you food, safety and peace!"
It must be said that the artists under Han Da's command are incredibly skilled; they captured the emotions perfectly...
Some illiterate people muttered to themselves, "What does it say on this...?"
Some of the smarter ones had already sensed that something was wrong...
"Is anyone literate? What does it say on this?"
Some people started asking questions.
Some literate people began to tremble in their voices...
Start reading the text aloud...
"Shahar is colluding with foreign devils and betraying the country!"
"Your sons and husbands were given to the robots by Shahar as cannon fodder!"
"He has drained the national treasury, fed the devil, and now he wants to pave the way for him with your flesh and blood!"
"The East Asian Federation will only punish the tyrant Shahar! Those who lay down their weapons will not be killed! Food and water will be provided!"
"Princess Eva is about to return, to rebuild a peaceful Slavic nation!"
"Is...is what this painting says true?" A woman holding a baby stared at the painting of the shields driving away people, then looked in the direction of the palace, her face pale, muttering to herself. The baby in her arms seemed to sense its mother's fear and began to cry loudly.
"The Tsar... he... he really used us as a shield?" An old man who had been conscripted looked at the painting depicting the grand feast in the palace and the scene of himself being driven away, his cloudy eyes filled with disbelief and indignation.
“My son… was in Don Fort… could he really have been…” A mother who had lost her son covered her face and wept bitterly as she looked at the picture of soldiers being used as cannon fodder.
The fervent slogans disappeared.
The atmosphere in the square and on the streets suddenly changed.
What began as a poignant display of shared hatred and indignation transformed into a vortex of immense shock, doubt, anger, and confusion. The visual impact of the illustrations was far more powerful than empty slogans! The written leaflets provided detailed "evidence" and clearly pointed accusations!
"Liar! Shahar is a liar!" someone couldn't help but shout.
"He's the traitor! He's the devil!"
"We want Princess Eva! We want to live!"
"I won't let my child go to his death!"
Such scenes are constantly unfolding in the capital city...
Fear and unrest spread like wildfire through the crowd...
Many people angrily threw the crude weapons that Shahar had given them to the ground, or clutched them tightly, their eyes filled with wariness and suspicion. They no longer aimed them at the enemy outside the city, but rather at the regular soldiers who were driving them away.
Panic and uproar replaced the will to fight...
Deep within the palace, Shahar, accompanied by a group of ministers, was kneeling in worship before some of the deities of their Slavic Empire.
He seemed to be pleading for something; he was thinking of only one thing: the person who had once given him hope...
Could they come to his rescue at the crucial moment...? I hope their devastating reinforcements arrive soon...
Suddenly, a guard, pale-faced, stumbled in, disregarding etiquette, clutching several leaflets and posters tightly in his hands, his voice trembling uncontrollably:
"Your Majesty! Something terrible has happened! So many...so many papers have fallen from the sky! They're covered with...covered with slanderous words against you! And...and drawings! Drawings..."
"What paper? What painting?!"
Shahar's heart sank, and an ominous premonition gripped him instantly. He roughly snatched the paper from the guard's hand.
With just one glance, the blood in his body seemed to freeze instantly, and then rush to the top of his head with a bang!
Those pictures blatantly expose his collusion with the mysterious man!
The accusation that he sacrificed soldiers in exchange for robot support!
That scene vividly depicts his conspiracy to drive people to become his shield!
And there's that eye-catching slogan, "Eva returns, bringing peace!"
Especially the painting depicting him indulging in pleasure in the palace while driving people to their deaths, was like a poisoned dagger that pierced his heart!
"puff...!"
Extreme horror, panic at being exposed, rage at having his vicious plan revealed, and the immense threat posed by the name Eva instantly shattered Shahar's feigned composure.
Eva is her daughter, and her son is in their hands right now. If they were to come out and accuse him again...
He felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a mouthful of blood gushed out, splattering onto the cursed leaflets and posters in his hands, staining them a glaring scarlet.
"Xiao! Ce! Han! Da!"
Shahar's eyes widened in fury as he let out a beast-like roar, his voice filled with deep-seated resentment and hysteria.
He frantically tore at the paper in his hand, oblivious to the sharp edges cutting his fingers, as scraps of paper mixed with blood fell to the ground.
"Slander! Defamation! This is a vicious scheme by East Asians!!"
He roared at the silent ministers and guards, trying to salvage the situation, "Quickly! Issue my order! Immediately confiscate all leaflets! Anyone who dares to circulate or discuss them will be punished for treason and executed on the spot! Go now!"
Prince Igor, the oldest minister of the Interior standing to the side, had his deeply lined wrinkles deepened by worry and fear!
He practically collapsed at Shahar's feet, his voice hoarse as he whispered, "Your Majesty! You mustn't! To suppress them now would be like adding fuel to the fire!"
The public sentiment outside was already turbulent because of those slanderous words, with fear and suspicion intertwined, and a single spark could ignite it!
If we were to resort to arms again, I'm afraid... I'm afraid the capital would fall into chaos before Han Da even arrives!
The anger and despair that have been stirred up will instantly turn against the palace!
Shahar's bloodshot eyes were fixed on Igor, his chest heaving violently, and the taste of blood still lingering in his mouth.
His knuckles turned white from the force with which he tore the flyers.
Igor's words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing some of his furious rage, but also making his extremely sensitive and suspicious nerves even more taut.
He paused for a moment, then a deeper, predatory cunning glint emerged from his eyes, overpowering his rage.
“Ah…you’re right, Igor.”
Once he calmed down, Shahar's voice suddenly became low and cold, carrying a deliberately suppressed calm. He even managed a twisted smile, as if the mouthful of blood he had just tasted was just an illusion.
"It was me, I was so angry I lost my mind. These East Asians think they can sow discord between me and my people with such petty tricks? Dream on!"
He slammed the blood-stained scraps of paper in his hand to the ground and crushed them with the sole of his boot, as if he were crushing a few bedbugs.
"They think they can throw us into disarray and cause our internal collapse with just a few scraps of paper? Humph!"
Shahar straightened his hunched back. Although his face was still ashen, he managed to regain some of his ruthless and domineering aura.
"This is a trick by Han Da and Xiao Ce! They dare not face my divine envoy army directly, nor dare they confront the natural defenses of my capital! They want to subdue the enemy without a fight using such despicable means? Wishful thinking!"
His gaze swept over the still-shaken ministers and generals, and his voice suddenly rose, filled with a persuasive power, as if he were trying to convince others, or perhaps encouraging himself:
"My people are brave! They are wise! How could they be deceived by such clumsy lies?! They are just confused by this sudden slander and need their Tsar to stand up, give them confidence, and expose the enemy's conspiracy!"
Shahar took a deep breath, as if making a firm decision, and strode towards the palace gate, simultaneously issuing a stern order:
"Someone! Change me into the most ordinary soldier's uniform! No mink! No gold thread! Just the most worn-out one, the one most covered in dirt and smelling of gunpowder!"
Attendants hurriedly went to prepare. As Shahar allowed his attendants to remove his magnificent royal robes and put on his coarse woolen military uniform, faded from washing and even patched and stained, he roared at his ministers:
"Issue the order! Martial law is lifted throughout the city! People are allowed to move freely! I want to go to the front lines myself! To the city walls! To the barricades!"
He fastened a rough leather belt, his movements carrying a deliberate performance of "sharing weal and woe with the soldiers."
"I want every Slav to see with their own eyes where their Tsar stands! Where cannonballs might land! Among them!"
Shahar's voice echoed in the empty hall, filled with sorrow: "I! I will tell my people with my own mouth: These leaflets are proof of the fear of the devils of East Asia! They are the desperate cries of their utterly helpless! They are the poison they are using to try to undermine our will to resist with lies!"
Shahar, dressed in a specially chosen, stained and gunpowder-stained woolen uniform for ordinary soldiers, ascended the city wall facing the direction of the East Asian coalition's attack, surrounded by equally solemn-faced ministers and elite guards.
The cold wind whipped at his graying temples and ruffled his ill-fitting old military uniform, deliberately creating a poignant sense of shared life and death with his people.
The city walls were crowded with armed people whose eyes were filled with confusion and fear.
The immense impact of the leaflets had not yet subsided when the Tsar's sudden appearance temporarily suppressed their commotion, and they focused their complex and unspoken gazes on him.
In their eyes, the mere appearance of Shahar meant that there might still be a chance for things to turn around!
Shahar took a deep breath of the cold, smoky air, forcibly suppressing the churning blood in his chest and the shame and anger of being exposed.
He stood before the crenellations, surveying the dense array of shields below and the terrified defenders on the city walls. With all his might, he made sure his voice carried as clearly as possible in the cold wind, roaring with sorrow and sincerity:
"My brave Slavic people! My warriors!"
He pounded his chest hard, the old military uniform making a dull thud.
"Look at me! Look at your Tsar!"
"I'm standing here wearing the same clothes as you, the same clothes as the soldiers on the front lines!"
"I am now standing where the enemy's artillery fire is most likely to fall! I am facing the same danger as you! Why? Because I am with you!"