Chapter 11: Warming Up the Broadcast

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It could be said that whether orders and will are carried out is always relative.

Zhang Shan understood that what he had taken over was a relatively autonomous, decaying feudal territory.

There was fierce artillery fire at the front, while behind him, joyous songs and dances continued unabated.

Such surreal events, not only in this era and world setting but even before Zhang Shan's transmigration, were commonplace.

Whether his commands would be executed with full force depended on how much he could accomplish, how ruthlessly he acted, and how much pressure the damned external enemies exerted on these people.

This was nothing like the army of faith and strength he remembered.

The combat effectiveness of a feudal army depended not only on the soldiers’ morale and tactical skills but also on the zeal of those who owned the army.

In theory, these troops belonged to Andrei Berliasky’s forces and should still be somewhat functional.

Zhang Shan left the hall.

He was not empty-handed; within his system’s vision, two military insignias appeared:

One was the “Duke Berliasky’s Guard,” a standard battalion-sized unit of five hundred men. Besides four T-26 tanks and twelve BA-10 armored cars, the most dazzling asset was eight steam knights.

The other was the “Grand Duchy of Berliasky’s First Tank Army,” fully staffed with 12,300 personnel. It included a tank brigade (equipped with 100 T-26 and BT-7 light tanks), a steam knights regiment (50 units), a heavy infantry brigade, and a “Beast Cavalry Brigade.”

Such an organization was imbued with the aura of otherworldly fantasy.

As for other divisions’ insignias within the territory, Zhang Shan could not see them.

The badges existed, but were shrouded in mist, impervious even to his mental probing. The system deemed these units as not belonging to Zhang Shan at this time.

Clearly, as one of the seven great electors, the Berliasky family still had some backbone; their decay was not complete.

This gave Zhang Shan some confidence.

As the interim heir, he had a myriad of matters to attend to.

After Anna escorted him out, Mikhail and the other senior ministers exchanged glances.

Logistics Chief Antoni shrugged: “I want two thousand draft horses to haul those damn old cannons from the warehouse to the front lines. Is that too much to ask?”

Chancellor Slava adjusted his round glasses: “If Your Highness can procure 500,000 rubles, I’ll give you passing marks.”

Minister of Public Security Artemy said: “Just don’t have the duke’s guard gallivant around chasing women everywhere.”

Mikhail summarized: “His Highness is very young, only twenty-one. Let’s not burden him too much.”

“Understood.”

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Meanwhile, Zhang Shan was brought to “his” suite.

There, he met the major assigned as his personal guard captain, Vasily Petrov—a giant of two meters tall, weighing two hundred pounds, resembling a bear.

His opening words were blunt: “Your Highness, even if you’re caught in a machine-gun barrage, I’ll shield you with my body.”

“Thank you for your loyalty to the family.”

“No need to thank me.”

Next came Anna’s turn.

Soon, Zhang Shan realized the difference between Natalia and Anna.

Both women came from vassal noble families of the Grand Duchy. Natalia was groomed from the start to be a housekeeper, responsible for cleaning up all kinds of messes for Andrei—in every sense.

From orchestrating the demise of rival noble heirs by calling in reinforcements to paying bills at cafés for Andrei’s expenses, all fell under her duties.

Anna, however, was different.

At first, Zhang Shan thought she was the late brother’s secretary. Upon meeting her, he found Anna had received an extremely advanced education.

She held bachelor’s degrees in economics and management, as well as officer training from the Rasian Empire’s premier military academy—a true hexagonal warrior.

Anna first had Zhang Shan sign a stack of authority delegation agreements, symbolizing the old duke’s transfer of various powers to him.

Then, this beautiful elder sister adopted a strict teacher’s tone: “Prince Andrei, there isn’t much time. Since you pledged to His Majesty, the Berliasky radio station has announced you will give a public speech in one hour. Time waits for no one. The Grand Duke’s household’s silence only fuels rumors outside. If we don’t announce the situation promptly, it will cause greater panic.”

Got it! Crisis management, huh?

That much Zhang Shan understood.

But after reading the draft speech, he frowned deeply.

The speech was not bad at all—definitely the best draft produced on short notice by Anna, the top student.

It was absolutely correct for the Berliasky family.

But not for the people.

“I have a better idea.”

At this moment, radios in the Rasian Empire had not yet become widespread.

Some wealthier households owned radios—roughly ten per two or three hundred households in a typical village.

The war that erupted that morning stunned the people of the Far East.

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Many lost their appetite and sat by their radios, listening intently to the latest broadcasts from the official Berliasky radio station.

As Anna had said, rumors were flying everywhere; both common folk and nobles were deeply unsettled.

It had been only a few years since the last civil war ended; no one wanted to plunge back into war so easily.

Some claimed the southern provinces had all fallen.

Others said the Berliasky family was wiped out.

Just as speculation ran rampant, Berliasky Radio unexpectedly held a unique interview.

“I’m Dasha, host of Berliasky Radio. Please introduce yourself.”

“I’m Bayar, a 43-year-old Brya herder living in Ranud.”

“Can you tell us what happened this morning?”

“War! Terrible war! Those damn Amato people stormed into Ranud with steam knights and huge iron tanks.”

“Oh! That sounds terrifying! What happened to you?”

The herder’s voice quickly mixed with anger, hatred, and a hint of hysteria: “Those damned beasts stabbed my brother Urjtu to death with bayonets as soon as they entered the town. They laughed as they dragged out his intestines, twisted into a ball, swinging it in the sunlight. My brother screamed for a long time before dying, and they mocked him loudly beside him.”

“Where were you then?”

“I was on the roof drying sheepskins. Luckily, those bastards didn’t see me. I covered my mouth and froze up there. Then those horned devils went and violated our neighbor Narin. Oh God, such a good girl, and they ruined her. Afterward, they not only stole the lambs but killed Narin, set the house on fire, and boiled her brother alive in the water barrel. The kid was only six years old!” The herder’s voice broke repeatedly, her emotions near collapse.

It took several minutes to recount the story.

“And… what happened next?”

“Your Highness! Oh, Prince Andrei led the Ranud garrison to fight back. Their artillery was so accurate! One shot blew up an Amato steam knight. The devils got scared. I heard when they fled the city, our soldiers surrounded and captured many of them.”

“Oh, oh! Our soldiers truly are the people’s guardians!”

“Exactly! My husband Bagen wanted to kill those prisoners, but Your Highness forbade us.”

“That’s really…”

The host was at a loss for words.

“Hehe! It’s fine. The prince forbids killing prisoners, but he didn’t say we can’t take revenge! After I recognized that bastard, Bagen went up and castrated him.”

This statement sent all listeners gathered around radios in the Far East into an uproar.