This year's Maslenitsa festival in Kislev was extremely bleak. The vibrant celebrations that had once filled the entire kingdom were now a distant memory, rarely seen even in the capital, Kislev City. The streets were desolate, filled with hopelessness. Refugees continued to struggle for survival, and it was only thanks to a shipment of relief grain from Ostermark Province of the Empire, coupled with some spoils extracted from the nobility, generals, and boyars under the pressure of the Tsarina, that the refugees were barely managing to stay alive.
Even so, Kislev City still saw dozens of frozen corpses hauled away each day.
"I remember when the Red Tsar (Boris Bokha) was still in power. During this time every year, families would come out onto the streets to make and cook blini. Traditionally, the first pancake was given to the poor as a way of honoring the dead. Children would go out early to build snowmen, and wealthy households would start frying pancakes in the morning. People would bind straw and cloth to create dolls symbolizing winter," Belial said as he stepped out of the Bokha Palace, addressing his deputy, Sherepin. "Look at it now. Forget the refugees and the poor—there are hardly any wealthy households left!"
"Sometimes I feel like... hmm!" Sherepin was fully armed, holding a small meat-filled pastry, part of the rations from the Imperial embassy. Kislev was in a severe food shortage, but the Empire's camps and embassies still had abundant reserves.
"Holkina?" Belial suddenly turned his head, speaking with an amused tone. "Tell me, when was the last time your family started frying pancakes early in the morning during Maslenitsa?"
"Five years ago, General," the young girl responded with reddened cheeks from the cold, her voice trembling with fear. "After that, it happened less and less."
"Good," Belial nodded indifferently. "You'll accompany me to the banquet tonight. Just eat, don't talk unless I ask you to."
"Yes!" The girl nodded repeatedly.
After over a week of recruitment efforts, the Ugol Horse Archer Regiment under Belial's command had grown to over 900 men, consisting of the elite Ugols from central Kislev and many strong men lacking weapons or equipment. With the simple offer of a bearskin coat, a set of new weapons and gear, standard food rations, a small pouch of jingling silver coins, and a promise to resettle their families, many Ugol men were eager to follow him. Belial carefully selected and kept over 600 of the best, merging them with another 200 to form a new Ugol regiment.
Tonight, Belial had a banquet to attend.
The Tsarina Katarin had strictly forbidden Belial from buying out the political and criminal prisoners in the Cheka's prisons, as she couldn't tolerate the release of people who might tarnish her reputation. But she failed to realize the most crucial point—her kingdom was now crumbling, teetering on the brink. Not only were the lower-class refugees struggling, but even middle-level officials, boyars, and high-ranking generals were facing difficulties. This gave Belial the perfect excuse to openly engage with high-ranking officials, nobles, and generals. With a few "small gifts" and "tokens of gratitude" delivered through various channels, certain barriers were quickly broken down.
With time before the evening banquet, Belial and Sherepin strolled through the streets with a few Ugol soldiers, inspecting the situation.
One corner of the street was particularly crowded. Refugees in tattered gray clothing were swarming, desperately trying to sell themselves to the Ugol officers.
"Officer! I've worked as a laborer for three months! Can I get a job?"
"Officer, I can write my name, and I can do arithmetic up to twenty! Can I join the labor camp?"
"I'm an engineer! Look, I worked in Praag for two years as a laborer. Can I join?"
"Officer, I may be a woman, but I can read and write! I was once the daughter of a boyar!"
"Please, officer! My family hasn't eaten in days! Let us join the Gulag! I'm willing to do anything!"
The scene was chaotic as Ugol soldiers struggled to maintain order, but the people kept pushing forward, desperate for a spot.
"The Gulag labor camp is recruiting across all of Kislev! We need skilled workers with factory experience, intellectuals, or noble ladies with reading and writing skills!" A scholar standing at the entrance shouted, flanked by Cheka secret police. Every time someone passed the selection process, they were given a bowl of borscht and two pieces of black bread.
The Ugols also handed over money to the Cheka officers, effectively "buying" these people at a very low price.
Soon, those who came to apply for the Gulag gained a darkly humorous nickname: "gray livestock."
At first, the people of Kislev were suspicious of the so-called "Gulag labor camp," thinking it was just another Cheka plot to round up suspicious individuals. But Belial quickly announced that those joining the camp would receive food rations, protection, and a sheltered place to live.
Some were still skeptical, but others were already starving. With dozens of bodies being hauled out of the city each day, one brave soul decided to take the first step. His name was Mikhail, from a wealthy fisherman's family in Erengrad. He was a polymath, a scholar who had come to Kislev to study and had completed eight years of coursework in just five, with the help of the Ursun Church. Mikhail was proficient in five languages and was well-versed in physics, chemistry, mining, and metallurgy.
But when Kislev fell into hardship, none of these talents were useful. He couldn't perform manual labor, he wasn't fit for military service, and he couldn't hunt or fish, forcing him into a life of extreme poverty. He barely survived by doing accounting work for a shop, but as the situation worsened and businesses closed, he became unemployed and lived on thin gruel from the streets.
Mikhail tried to petition the Tsarina for relief, but his letters were "drowned" within the Ice Witch Sisterhood. Though the sisterhood sympathized with his plight, offering him a small bag of relief grain, by the time the message reached him, only a verbal note remained.
Disillusioned with the kingdom and already starving, Mikhail noticed the Gulag labor camp recruiting intellectuals with promises of food, shelter, and work in Bretonnia. His mind quickly assessed the situation—if they really wanted to kill him, it wouldn't be this complicated. After all, the Cheka could easily arrest anyone on a whim.
He decided to be the first to take the plunge.
Belial understood how valuable a person like Mikhail would be to Ryan. Bretonnia lacked intellectuals of such high caliber. The Ugol general personally welcomed Mikhail, invited him to dinner, and publicly announced that he had been granted the status of a free citizen with a daily ration of 100 grams of meat!
With the first, came the second, and then the third. Soon, large numbers of scholars, skilled workers, and impoverished nobles flocked to the labor camp. According to the agreement between Belial and the Tsarina, the palace received a substantial sum for each person, reducing the strain on food supplies.
Once they had tasted the profit, it became impossible to stop. The head of the Cheka, Yezhov, kept a close watch over the Gulag, ensuring that Belial paid upfront for each person. No money, no release.
Belial had no issue with this. With a large sum from his trade deals, he didn't even need to dip into the special funds provided by Ryan. The "gray livestock" were dirt cheap, and their demands were minimal—one meal a day, consisting of 300 grams of black bread and a large bowl of borscht, was enough to keep them satisfied.
Kislev was losing control. Initially, it was refugees coming forward, but soon the tide shifted. The Cheka began rounding up people, dragging skilled workers and intellectuals out of their homes. Families were swept up—old, young, men, women—anyone who could be sold to Belial for money.
Every day, the black-uniformed Cheka scoured the city. Yezhov himself escorted Belial through every prison except the Cheka's own, allowing him to inspect the "merchandise" and haggle over prices.
With time, even the high-ranking nobles and boyars got in on the "gray trade." They began sending bankrupt distant relatives and surplus family members to the labor camp to be sold.
Thus, batch after batch of "gray livestock" were escorted by the military to Erengrad, where they boarded ships bound for Bretonnia, ready to begin their new lives. Rumor had it that the warm southern lands not only offered bread and milk but also wages and life guarantees.
"There will be two more batches," Belial said, surveying the bustling recruitment site. He shook his head. "The good stock is nearly gone. There aren't many people left."
"General, we've bought three thousand people already. Can you believe it? Three thousand people for less than three thousand gold crowns!" Sherepin exclaimed, both impressed and furious. "Yezhov is a scumbag! Do you know, General, that he uses brutal methods to seize people? Some households still have food, so he has the Cheka storm in, declare them guilty, and confiscate their supplies. If workers hide at home, he has people set fires just to force them into bankruptcy and sell them off!"
"Excellent. The more brutal he is,
the better we look," Belial said calmly. "If I'm right, Yezhov has backing, and those people are reaping plenty of benefits."
"So what's our next move, General?" Sherepin sighed, still struggling to adapt to his new role in Bretonnia's regular army after serving as a Ugol mercenary.
"There's still time. Let's take another walk."
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