Özet
"Commanding an army group and taking charge of the overall situation? Me?" Victor Kalashnikov put down his wine glass, pushed away the elegantly dressed bunny girl, and pointed to himself incredulously. “Yes, young master.” The blood-soaked officer nodded, his voice filled with sorrow: “The general was assassinated on his way back from meeting the emperor, and… he has been confirmed to be beyond saving. If you don’t step forward, I’m afraid…” “I’m afraid the Sixth Army will be leaderless, in turmoil, and may even completely disintegrate?” The young man scoffed, picking up the girl from Cartes, whose eyes were filled with affection, again: “Even if it really disintegrates, so what? It’s just a bunch of opportunistic hyenas. Only my cheap old man would care about the so-called general’s title. Listen to me, let them make a scene.” Upon hearing this, the officer, already hunched over, bent even lower: “But… His Majesty has already decreed that Duke Koschche will take over all affairs of the Sixth Army. Once he arrives, I’m afraid this city will no longer be under your control.” “Koschche? A mere Black Serpent. If he dares to invade, I will make him suffer a crushing defeat.”