"What? Who attacked them?"
Hearing the Siberian brigade's desperate report after their rout by Qing forces, Gennady could barely keep his composure.
"…You must be mistaken. That makes no sense."
"Then what, were we attacked by ghosts?!"
It had been a perfectly timed ambush—launched when their position was completely exposed. The force they had painstakingly assembled had been annihilated without even fighting a proper battle.
It wasn't just the brigade commander who felt like weeping blood—Gennady did too.
It wasn't that he couldn't believe it. He simply didn't want to.
"St–still… they must have salvaged some men and weapons, right? Even if it was an ambush, it was only one attack…"
"The attackers were mostly cavalry. Unless you were mounted like the officers, how could anyone escape?"
"No… but still—"
"The Qing troops came as if they intended to slaughter us from the start. No matter how we fled, they chased us down relentlessly, cutting us down or taking us prisoner."
So… out of nearly 5,000 men, only those who reached Vladivostok remained?
"382 survivors, they say… That can't be all, can it? There must be more."
"…382? I don't know. Surviving at all was a miracle."
Realistically, the rest weren't all dead. Most were likely captured, and others had thrown down their weapons and scattered.
But regardless, one fact remained unchanged:
A force assembled under the Tsar's orders had been completely destroyed.
And worse—it hadn't been defeated by Britain, but once again by an Asian power.
If this news reached the imperial court, would he survive?
Nicholas wasn't a rash ruler, but he knew well how dire Russia's situation had become.
If it came out that a carefully gathered force had been wiped out without even engaging properly…
Instead of enjoying a comfortable life in St. Petersburg, he might lose his head.
No. I can't take all the blame for this.
Frankly, he felt wronged.
Those mad Japanese launched a surprise attack and only declared war afterward. The Qing went even further—proposing an alliance, only to betray them with an ambush.
What was he, a temporary commander, supposed to do against that?
His eyes flicked toward the battered brigade commander.
Right. No matter how barbaric these Asian tactics were, someone had to take responsibility.
And surely the field commander bore more blame than he did.
He dies so I live.
Having made up his mind, Gennady put on a concerned expression and brought over a cup of warmed liquor.
"No one could have predicted such treachery. Still, it's a relief you made it back alive. You and your men should rest."
"…Th–thank you. Then… what will be done about this incident?"
"Let's be honest. Who would expect someone to propose an alliance, sign agreements, and then stab you in the back like that?"
"Exactly!"
"If Napoleon himself were in your place, he'd have suffered the same fate. So don't worry—go and rest."
"Thank you! Thank you, Commander!"
The moment the brigade commander left, Gennady picked up his pen.
To His Imperial Majesty…
He began drafting a lengthy report—detailing Qing treachery, barbaric tactics, and above all, his own lack of responsibility.
The report stretched past ten pages.
Meanwhile, Qing—having crushed the Russian force in a way even Killian hadn't anticipated—sent Governor Xu Guangjin back to Hong Kong.
Where before he had returned in despair, now Xu Guangjin strode in like a victorious general.
"Hahaha! Your Highness, did you see? Our Eight Banners have completely annihilated the vile Russians!"
"Yes, I heard. Quite… an impressive strategy."
"Well, perhaps not entirely orthodox—but did Russia take our lands fairly? You reap what you sow."
Russia at least declared war first, didn't they?
But from Qing's perspective, perhaps the mere act of losing land to Westerners was already unforgivable.
"…Russia hasn't protested yet?"
"The news hasn't reached their capital yet."
"I see. I do wonder how Tsar Nicholas will react."
If he put himself in Nicholas's shoes…
If Joseon had lured the Royal Navy into port under the guise of resupply, only to sink them with traps—
Joseon would become a British colony overnight.
If he were Nicholas, he'd grind Qing into dust.
"…Russia won't be able to do much. They'll lose this war anyway."
"Ah… so that's the calculation."
So that's it. Qing had gambled that Russia would be too broken to retaliate.
A risky move—but not irrational.
"Governor, was this plan the Emperor's?"
"Prince Gong devised it. His Majesty approved."
That made sense.
If Xianfeng had led it himself, he would've simply charged headfirst and lost disastrously.
"Either way, thank you. That couldn't have been an easy decision."
"Then… the suspicion of a Qing–Russian alliance is cleared?"
"Of course."
Cleared? More like permanently erased. They had just chosen eternal enmity.
"But what will you do with the Eight Banners now?"
"I… am not certain."
"Since you've already crossed that line, why not continue attacking Primorye? That way, Russia won't dare retaliate after the war."
"…What?"
If they stopped now, who would Russia strike first once it recovered?
Not Britain. Not Europe.
That left only one target.
Qing.
"If I were Tsar Nicholas, I'd strike Qing first—and without even declaring war."
"…You're suggesting we join your anti-Russian containment?"
"Nothing so grand. You've already mobilized 5,000 troops in Manchuria—why disband them when you could deal further damage?"
"…Understood. I'll report this to the court."
With Killian's written assurance that Britain would not oppose Qing, Xu Guangjin departed.
The situation had evolved differently than expected—but it was too good to waste.
If Russia's fury could be directed toward Asia—toward Qing—
Then Britain would gain endless opportunities to intervene "legitimately."
Long-term threats to British supremacy:
Russia. China. And eventually, the United States.
If two of them became eternal enemies?
Perfect.
Let it all burn.
"What? Qing defeated Russia?"
"Yes, Your Majesty! Even Britain found it unexpected!"
"…So even Qing has been forced to dance to Britain's tune."
The conclusion was obvious.
"Has Heungseon-gun returned?"
"He will arrive in Hanyang tomorrow."
"I must hear everything from him."
With Qing now entering war against Russia, Primorye was as good as dead.
But one question lingered.
"How did Qing defeat Russia when they couldn't even cross our border?"
"…They proposed an alliance—signed it—and then struck from behind."
"…What?"
The king doubted his own ears.
Qing—the supposed center of civilization—resorting to such tactics?
Even the Japanese, whom they mocked, hadn't gone this far.
"Your Majesty, perhaps this is proof that beneath it all, they remain barbarians."
That might be true.
But lately, the world had become too absurd to tell right from wrong.
Japan launching surprise attacks before declarations.
Qing signing alliances before betrayal.
…Was Joseon the only one still clinging to honor?
Should they… try something bold as well?
In the royal chamber, the king and his ministers found themselves quietly tempted by a dangerous thought.