In Type-Moon, people create a magic family lineage

Lu Kang instantly sensed the connection he had formed with Him—through the contractual channel created by the girl before him.

Anna made a pact with the elves and became an elf messenger.

He, however, signed a contract with Anastasia, sharing this elven power—the moment Anastasia became an elven user, she instinctively mastered many mysteries.

"Is this also your purpose in being here?" Anna said softly, "Your Majesty, you only do things for personal gain?"

Yes.

Lu Kang and the others are here to awaken Anna's power as an elf.

And use her power to achieve certain goals and solve certain problems.

Anna realized this when she remembered the past and awakened the spirits. She knew nothing about politics, but she was always very intelligent.

However, she was not annoyed by it at all.

because...

She is willing to help Your Majesty.

Stand shoulder to shoulder with him and become his support.

At this moment, Anastasia's face was serious and clean.

At this moment, she also made Lu Kang feel more moved than ever before.

it's beautiful.

he thought.

“Then become my ‘eyes,’ Anna,” he said.

“Yes.” Anastasia nodded obediently and said, “I am willing to be your eyes—my Your Majesty.”

The sun was shining brightly in my line of sight.

At the same time, a snowy illusion unfolds outside our sight.

Bright, sparkling eyes—unbeknownst to many, unnoticed by many, spread like a blizzard, gradually enveloping the entire city of Moscow...

The assassins who had stopped there collapsed to the ground with a thud, their bodies covered in a layer of snow-white frost even in broad daylight.

The so-called power of spirits is the power of wind and snow.

It is also the ability of the 'eyes'.

They are eyes hidden in an invisible, snowy, illusory realm.

Lu Kang will use this power to eliminate his last obstacle—the group of former ministers and the old aristocratic class who have always been his enemies!

He will use these eyes to find them.

Then, kill them!

...

The "Bloody Night," which took place at the end of the Tsarist era during the reign of Nicholas II, was an unprecedented massacre of the old class of nobles in the entire history of the Tsarist Empire.

Overnight, all those who had opposed Luca Luvist died. According to accounts from those present at the time, they died in the spring of May, their bodies ice-cold, as if they had died in the cold winds of winter, buried by ice and snow.

This bizarre event left countless people puzzled. Some speculated that it was a strange plague, since the old nobles gathered every day, and it was normal for the plague to spread among them. Others said that Lu Kang had used evil witchcraft.

But whatever the reason, after the bloody night, no force within the Tsarist Empire could rival Lu Kang.

He became a de facto dictator.

He was the most vicious and wicked man in the empire.

Even the emperor was inferior to him.

—The Fall of the Russian Empire, 1855–1917

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Tsar's Defeat, The Last Chance

Four kilometers from the Kremlin, the lake ripples and reflects the sky and the outline of the church. Sunlight falls on the sharp dome of the monastery, creating a shimmering effect, and the majestic sound of bells carries far and wide.

This was not a day for pilgrimage and prayer, but the gates of the 'New Saintess Convent' were bustling with people.

"How many is this?" someone asked in a low voice.

The head nun, dressed in her habit, asked the young nun beside her in a low voice.

The nun glanced at the notebook and replied, "It's the seventeenth already, Grandma Dean."

The abbess nodded, squinting in the sunlight. At that moment, they were also standing in the open square in front of the monastery, watching the figures coming and going. The people coming were all nobles, but their well-dressed demeanor was tinged with a bleak expression. They brought one coffin after another. The black coffins were placed in front of the monastery, and the wooden boards decorated with silver crosses further indicated the prominent status of the deceased in life.

—At least a nobleman of the rank of marquis or higher.

But here it is.

at this point.

Not to mention marquises, even important figures who once served as the first minister and held the title of 'duke' were not scarce.

The next funeral mass has to be scheduled for next month.

The dean stared at the coffins, lost in thought about the various stories and legends that had recently been circulating wildly in Moscow...

They saw off the last group of people who came to place the coffin.

The little nun next to him looked at the black coffins with curiosity, then suddenly moved closer to the abbot.

"Grandma Dean, I heard that these people died because of a curse cast by that 'Lord Lu Kang'?" she whispered.

He was also somewhat confused: "But I didn't sense even the slightest hint of heresy from this?"

The young nun's voice startled the headmistress, who was also pondering these rumors. Upon hearing this, she simply said solemnly, "Under the glory of the Lord, one must not speak of things without evidence, or one will be cast into purgatory."

The young nun immediately fell silent... The abbess shook her head, then suddenly fell into deep thought. It was no wonder the nun was so confused, after all, seventeen adults had died overnight, which was almost unprecedented, and these people were all political enemies of the current ruler, Lucon Luvist. But the abbess's words were not without reason. As a high-ranking member of the Church of the Tsarist Empire, she was also an agent of miracles and could naturally sense whether there was any mysterious force involved.

In her perception, these important figures had all died of natural causes...

“Natural death may not necessarily be without external interference.”

Just then, a clear, melodious voice came from behind them. The headmaster was stunned for a moment, and the little nun next to him suddenly lit up.

"Sister Kihara..." Kihara Kichijou had a high status, but she always treated the ordinary nuns in the monastery with kindness, like sisters who were not much older than her.

"Don't be rude!" the abbess whispered to the nun beside her, who quickly turned to look at the woman who had come out of the convent.

Her expression was trembling with fear. Even though this woman had been staying in the convent and seemed harmless all this time, a raging beast does not lose its sharp claws just because it is temporarily docile. The abbess still remembered how terrifying the other woman was.

At the same time, Kichijouin Kihara's voluptuous and somewhat exaggerated figure slowly emerged from the shadows inside the monastery. She glanced at the innocent-looking little nun who had been scolded and was sticking out her tongue, and then looked at the solemn and respectful abbot.

She said, "Nature can also be a kind of mystery."

"Are you saying that the heretic is manipulating the forces of nature? But how is that possible?" The dean was somewhat incredulous.

“Nothing is impossible. You must know that mystery itself is difficult to understand. Even for those of us who are in it, there are far too many unknowns.” Jixiangyuan Qihuang slowly walked towards the coffins.

A delightful smile graced her pretty face, which was hidden beneath her nun's habit and headscarf.

She did indeed feel a special power mixed in with these corpses.

These powers are imperceptible to ordinary people.

But as a member of the burial agency, she felt exceptionally bright.

It was neither a miracle nor magic.

But it seems to possess the mystery of both.

"That man is getting more and more interesting," Kichijoin Kihara said with anticipation.

She wondered what kind of fun that person would bring her on that last day...

Yes.

The last day.

Kichijou-in Kihara could sense that the final day of the empire's collapse was fast approaching!

...

[After the bloody night, you have initially completed the purge of the Tsarist country. Your prestige has reached an extremely high level, even if it is prestige built solely on fear and cannot last long, but you do not need it to last long either.]

In July 1915, you suppressed the last wave of counterattack by the old aristocratic class.

[After that day, Queen Alexandra valued you even more, and you began to take further bold steps, vigorously developing industry, agriculture, and transportation. You also established new-style schools throughout the country to encourage the common people to strive for excellence. You wrote to prominent figures from all walks of life, inviting them to teach in schools with extremely high salaries.]

Domestic tensions have been further eased thanks to your measures.

You attempted to transform the Tsarist Empire into a new era state cloaked in feudalism, achieving a peaceful transition between the old and new eras and quietly burying imperialism—with minimal cost and sacrifice.

You will become the undertaker of the old empire and the founder of the new nation. You will also take the opportunity to plant the seeds of mystery in the soil of the new era, accelerating their germination and growth.

Just when the whole country—including yourself—thought the situation was looking very good, the latest news came from the front lines.

The front lines, personally commanded by Nicholas II, suddenly collapsed, resulting in a crushing defeat. Nicholas II was forced to sign a war reparations treaty with the German Empire.

This news shocked the entire nation.

On January 2, 1916, shortly after Christmas, the Tsarist country was in turmoil again. People were in a state of high spirits, with workers going on strike, merchants closing their shops, and students boycotting classes.

Warfare erupts across various regions.

You are completely baffled.

[You spent the entire day pondering in the Imperial Council Chamber, and finally came to a conclusion—]

Damn it, what a shameless bunch of charlatans!

You believe the imminent collapse of the frontline war is related to the Church, or even highly likely that their intervention led to this situation.

You finally realize that your approach isn't working.

Even with Anna's elven power added, this amount of strength is clearly insufficient when facing the Church or even the Mage's Association.

You need to prepare more.

On January 21, 1917, Nicholas II led his defeated army back to the Kremlin in Moscow after retreating from the front lines.

You are going to 'pay homage' to the Emperor.

[Following the negotiations]

You still have a last resort.

[But before you even stepped into the emperor's bedchamber, you heard the sound of something breaking on the ground outside the window, followed by a series of angry roars.]

You walk through the palace's silent corridors, with attendants trembling beside you. The old steward emerges from the bedchamber, hoping you will persuade Nicholas II to take care of his health.

You entered the inner room and saw Nicholas II, his hair disheveled and his eyes red and swollen.

It was clear that the defeat in the war had dealt him a heavy blow; he was no longer the confident and extravagant man he once was. He saw you, and before he could speak, you spoke first—

"Your Majesty, we still have one last chance."

He was stunned.

[His dim eyes seemed to remember something, and hope rekindled.]

Yes, you still have one last chance. Although the reforms failed because of the war, what you did was not in vain.

At least domestic tensions have been greatly eased.

At least the nation's strength has been temporarily restored.

Your efforts have not been in vain.

At this point, faced with renewed public outcry and discontent, all that's needed is to put forward a scapegoat to bear the brunt of all the consequences.

You can sense that Nicholas II has made up his mind.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Mentors and Mentors

In January, Moscow was still enveloped in the harshness of winter. Outside, the heavy snow falling in the cold wind resembled the goose feathers shaken off by a giant beast, and the accumulated snow looked like a down-woven blanket covering the world.

With a tinkling sound, a figure darted through the snow-covered streets and into the tavern with its hanging bells. A wave of intense heat, carrying with it a rich aroma of alcohol, washed over the person.

"Hmm, it tastes really good." The man stroked his upturned mustache, took off his slightly soaked leather hat covered in snow, and shook his shoulders. The falling snowflakes seemed to bring the snow into this warm little space.

"Sir, what would you like?" A young bartender walked past the crowded square tables and round chairs and asked, bowing his head.