That evening, Belial hosted a banquet on Snow Street for several mid-level Kislev military officers and, notably, the warden of the Cheka prison, Josef-Bruz.
After several rounds of drinks and courses of food, Belial discreetly passed a small sealed packet to the officers and Josef-Bruz. The weight and sound of metal coins clinking inside brought a satisfied smile to Bruz's face, putting his mind at ease.
After the banquet ended, Josef took the opportunity to stay behind. He and Belial went to a private bar for another round of drinks, continuing their conversation.
"General Belial, I truly envy you," Josef said in a low voice, feigning a drunken slur as he pretended to joke. "To be... to have the favor of King Ryan... and become a general."
"It's all thanks to His Majesty Ryan being a wise ruler," Belial also feigned drunkenness. "Josef, from the moment I met you, I felt we were kindred spirits. Unfortunately, my mission is almost complete, and I'll be heading back to Bretonnia soon. I wonder if we'll ever meet again. If we do, we'll have another drink as brothers."
"What? General Belial, you're leaving?" Josef burped, looking disappointed. "Ah, what a pity. The wine you brought is excellent. I don't know if I'll ever get to drink such good wine again."
"You'll have plenty if you want it. The key is... how to drink the best wine?" Belial said meaningfully.
"Good wine, drink well, drink the good stuff," Josef's eyes lit up, suddenly sobering halfway.
"Drink well, and drink good wine," Belial nodded with a smile.
"Ah! I get it!" The warden caught on to Belial's meaning. "It seems, General, you didn't invite me just for a drink. You want to see my 'goods'? Well, I must tell you, my goods aren't ordinary. Not just anyone has the privilege to see them, and not everyone can afford them!"
"Good goods have a price. Not everyone has the right to see them, but do I? As for whether I can afford them, you'll have to give me a price first. Without a price, they're not really goods, right?" Belial's smile was genuine.
"Hah! I know, General, you have many friends. The boyars and palace generals are all your friends, and you're not satisfied with their goods anymore, so now you're eyeing mine!" Josef laughed and nodded repeatedly. He thought for a moment, then continued, "There are goods, and there's a price. I believe you're sincere, but there are two issues I need your help with."
"Speak," Belial nodded, knowing the real discussion was about to begin.
"The goods are there, but how do you plan to take them out? And after you've taken them, you can just walk away, but what about me? I'm responsible for guarding them. If something goes wrong, I can't explain it!" Josef said, pondering for a long while before voicing his concerns.
"I have a way," Belial whispered. "In a few days, I'll be leaving. You can send your people to the Gulag, and we'll take them with us. Meanwhile, you'll become a hero. We've arranged the script. Afterward, King Ryan's court will bestow a knight's title and a 300 gold crown reward."
"Keep the title; I'll need at least 500 crowns. Less than that, no deal," Josef countered immediately.
"Five hundred it is. No problem," Belial agreed without hesitation.
"How do we do it?" Josef's eyes brightened, but he quickly added, "We don't offer delivery services here. You'll have to come and pick up the goods yourself. I can only put up a 'closed' sign at most."
"Sherepin!" Belial clapped his hands, and his deputy dragged a middle-aged Khazag officer into the bar. The officer was clearly beaten, his face bruised and swollen. Upon seeing Belial and Josef together, he snorted coldly but said nothing.
"And who's this?" Josef asked curiously.
"This is Mr. Kolchak. He tried to assassinate me," Belial explained with a grin. "As one of the officers involved in the mutiny, he escaped capture and went into hiding. He was just hiding in the brewery, waiting for a chance to kill me, but my men caught him. Now, he's willing to exchange his life for that of another prisoner. You know Marshal Blyukher, don't you?"
"Oh, a wanted man!" Josef fully understood now. "Good, very good! That's a big merit! But will he cooperate?"
"Of course. Mr. Kolchak, we leave the rest to you!" Belial patted the middle-aged officer on the shoulder. "You'll die with honor."
"You'd better keep your word!" Kolchak snorted coldly.
"Of course, I will," Belial stood up. "Everything is in your hands."
Thus, after an ambiguous conversation in the bar, everything was agreed upon.
A few days later, Belial made his departure from Kislev with his people, beginning the journey home.
A week later, a riot broke out in Kislev City.
A group of traitors, led by the Khazag officer Kolchak, instigated a rebellion. They stormed the Cheka prison, attempting to rescue their imprisoned comrades. The city's defense forces were caught off guard, and the rebels managed to break into the prison, engaging in a fierce battle with the guards. The entire prison was engulfed in flames as the rebels took the warden's family hostage, forcing him to release the mutinous officers and several high-profile prisoners.
According to reports, Warden Josef-Bruz heroically refused, resulting in the tragic death of his entire family. Enraged, he personally fought Kolchak in the filthy, narrow corridors of the prison, valiantly killing the treacherous officer known as General Kolchak (self-proclaimed) while shouting the names of the Tsarina and Ursun.
With their leader dead, the rebels saw their cause as lost and set the prison ablaze, choosing to burn with it. The fire consumed the Cheka prison, killing Kislev's former chief engineer Shergo, Marshal Blyukher, and over a dozen high-profile prisoners. Many of the prison guards also perished in the inferno. The blaze raged until the Ice Witches, supported by the Krim Guards and Bear Riders, arrived to extinguish it. By then, the prison was in ruins. Some bodies were burned beyond recognition, charred to the point of being unidentifiable.
Tsarina Katarin expressed her condolences, personally visiting the scene to comfort the wounded and offer aid to the victims, especially the heroic warden Josef-Bruz, who had lost his entire family to the rebels. In recognition of his bravery, Katarin bestowed upon him the title of Count Volkovsky and awarded him the prestigious Ursun First Class Golden Bear Medal, personally overseeing the grand funeral for his family.
This incident would later be known as the "March Uprising," and Josef-Bruz became a national hero. But that's a story for another time.
While the Tsarina was bestowing honors upon Josef, aboard the Sea God fleet in the Claw Sea...
Having been locked up for several years, Kislev's chief engineer Shergo, disheveled and reeking from his time in captivity, had taken two baths to clean himself up. Now lying in a VIP cabin on the ship, he enjoyed vodka and clean clothes. He looked quite relaxed, holding a chicken leg in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other, devouring his meal as if it were his last.
After finishing his food, Shergo burped loudly, grabbed an imperial black beer, and drained it dry before shouting at a servant, "Alright, tell that brat Belial to get in here! I was the chief engineer when he was still a nobody!"
"Who's calling for me?" Belial entered the room, remaining calm as he nodded to the tall but emaciated chief engineer. Watching Shergo eat, he slowly said, "I've been sent by His Majesty Ryan to invite you to Bretonnia to help us establish a firearms workshop. Master Shergo, please accept His Majesty's gracious invitation."
"Invitation? This looks more like kidnapping!" Shergo spat out a chicken bone, clearly displeased. "Can I refuse? What happens if I say no?"
"If you refuse, that's fine too. We'll just arrange for you to spend some time with the fish at the bottom of the sea," Belial said, pointing to the window. "Master Shergo, I doubt the fish will find your old bones very tasty. So, which will it be: the bottom of the sea or becoming Bretonnia's chief engineer? You're a smart man, I'm sure you know what to choose."
"Hmph! My old bones would be too tough for the fish anyway," Shergo grumbled as he combed his thinning hair. "Ryan? Who's that? Wasn't Richard the king of Bretonnia? And what does a place that despises gunpowder and long-range weapons want with me? Aren't they afraid of insulting their decaying knightly honor?"
"Times have changed, Master Shergo. That was decades ago," Belial sat down, pouring himself a glass of vodka. "If you come with us, you'll see for yourself how things have changed. And you're mistaken—Richard abdicated long ago. The current king is Ryan-Malcador, the one who reunified Bretonnia and completed the Great Expedition of Eight
Peaks."
"Eight Peaks? He conquered Eight Peaks?! That's impossible. You're lying, right?" Shergo was stunned by the mention of the famous mountain, staring in disbelief. "Lying isn't a good habit, young man."
Belial said nothing, simply producing a dwarven rune weapon, a handful of dwarven coins, and his Eight Peaks commemorative medal.
Shergo, speechless and astonished, shook his head repeatedly. "Alright, give me another bottle of vodka, Belial, and a roast chicken. I'm still hungry."
"Finish the task first, and I promise you all the roast chicken you want," Belial handed Shergo the vodka. "Listen up, and then you can rest."
"What task?" Shergo took the bottle, his brown eyes narrowing as he stared at the general before him. "This wasn't a coincidence, was it? Me, Blyukher, the others?"
"No, it was just a coincidence," Belial said as he walked up to the chief engineer, smiling. "Coincidence, nothing more."
"Kolchak, that idiot, actually had the guts and the funding to pull this off?" Shergo pressed closer, his gaze fixed on Belial. "And it just so happened that, except for me and Blyukher, everyone else was burned to death?"
"That's right. Just as you saw," Belial said with certainty. "After all, the truth you witnessed with your own eyes is the truth. If you don't believe what you saw, how can I convince you?"
"Ha, ha... HAHAHAHA!" Shergo suddenly burst into laughter, unable to contain himself. First, it was a chuckle, then full-throated laughter. "Belial, you fool! Why did it take you so long to come rescue me? I've been wanting to leave that hellhole for ages! I just didn't expect that it wouldn't be the Empire, but Bretonnians, who'd come to get me. Tal's teeth, what a cruel joke!"
"HAHAHAHA!" Belial joined in the laughter. "HAHAHA!"
The cabin echoed with laughter as the two clinked their vodka glasses, the strong scent of alcohol filling the air.
"To freedom!" they toasted. "And to the gods!"
After downing their drinks, Belial continued, "From now on, you're no longer Shergo. Bretonnia doesn't have an Ursun faith. You now worship Tal, and you're also a devout follower of the Lady of the Lake. Very devout."
"Fine, I'll worship Tal from now on. And I'll attend mass every Sunday for the Lady of the Lake, alright?" Shergo nodded helplessly, pouring himself another drink. "As for a new name... I assume you've already picked one?"
"Excellent. As you wish, let me reintroduce you: you are now Urban, a citizen of Ostermark Province, aged 48. You worship the nature god Tal and are a chief engineer. You've lived in Bretonnia for five years, and this time you're coming back with me for a family visit. Your mother was Kislevite, which explains your Kislevite appearance and accent. You studied under the dwarf master engineer, Harlhafe Goldseeker," Belial raised his head and threw a document onto Shergo's lap. "Memorize everything on it. It should be easy for someone like you."
"Harlhafe Goldseeker? Who's that?" Shergo asked, confused.
"The chief engineer of the Angrund clan," Belial nodded. "There are files on him. Read up; as his apprentice, you should know all about your master."
"Does he know I'm his apprentice?" Shergo was utterly baffled.
"He won't know anymore," Belial shrugged.
"Great, very great. Urban greets you, General Belial!" Shergo lowered his head and began flipping through the documents. The engineer quickly noticed that the papers were filled with detailed information—over ten pages of records, covering every year of his supposed life, complete with stamps from Ostermark. The papers indicated that he had been specially appointed as the chief engineer of a new firearms factory in Bretonnia, sponsored by the king.
His fabricated background was flawless.
Shergo's expression changed. Glancing at Belial, he thought to himself that it was a shame this guy wasn't replacing Yezhov. His bureaucratic tone was downright eerie.
As if sensing Shergo's thoughts, Belial flashed a sinister smile.
"You're welcome, Chief Urban. Your vacation is over; it's time to get back to work."
"We'll assign you an assistant. For any problems in your work or life, just tell him—except for technical issues. Got it?" Belial clapped his hands. "Tupolev!"
"Here!" A young Ugol soldier entered the room. "General?"
"From now on, you'll be assisting Chief Urban," Belial ordered.
"Yes, sir!" Tupolev responded.
Mission accomplished!
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