A few weeks later, Perturabo exposed the attempt on his life by the nobles who had hired Savinkov, using it as the formal justification to begin his war for the unification of Kislev.
Under the influence of the printing presses Perturabo had designed, his leaflets denouncing the nobility spread across Kislev as rapidly as the ancient scriptures found in every church. The news reached every town and city, becoming known to all the people.
In his manifesto, Perturabo first stated that he had always acted as a law-abiding and fair arms dealer, selling weapons to every Kislevite lord without discrimination, provided they could pay the price.
However, his attempts to remain apolitical and focused on trade had not earned the trust of the nobles. To ensure Perturabo would not break his promises, they had dispatched an assassin to eliminate him.
Fortunately, when the assassin entered his room to strike, Perturabo successfully subdued the killer and extracted the truth.
This enraged Perturabo. He had abandoned his ambitions to focus on commerce, yet he could not escape the suspicion of the lords. Since he could not find peace through endurance, he would find it through conquest.
Thus, Perturabo declared war on the lords of Kislev, demanding they either submit or die. He laid claim to the throne of the High Tsar of Kislev to end the chaos and the decadence of the nobility.
From the remotest villages to the most prosperous ancient capitals, people secretly distributed Perturabo's manifesto. These distributors were Savinkov's "Combat Organization," spreading information to destabilize the minds of the populace for their new master.
The rapid spread of this information caused the Kislevite lords to suspect and blame one another. Many benefited from Perturabo's trade and had no reason to kill him.
The news that Perturabo had declared war on all of them shocked the nobility. In their fury, they sought to identify the fool who had sent the assassin, hoping to hand the culprit over to Perturabo in exchange for his forgiveness.
This was Perturabo's strategy. He deliberately refused to name a specific lord, using the ambiguity as a pretext to wage war against all of them. He would sweep through Kislev and establish his new order.
He did not refuse the lords who proactively came to surrender after his announcement, allowing them to remain as his subjects within the new order for the time being. However, if they failed to meet his standards, they too would be discarded into the dustbin of history.
With the issuance of Perturabo's command, a new era for this world began.
"Fire! Repel these cavalrymen!"
Following the orders of the mid-level officers appointed by Perturabo, the Streltsi infantry, formed in square lines, opened fire with a density of firepower unprecedented in the history of Kislev. To the charging winged hussars, this was a wall of lead they had never encountered.
The flintlock muskets designed by Perturabo were still a mystery to the rest of Kislev. The "muskets" familiar to most Kislevites were unreliable tools that failed in the rain.
Consequently, the proud winged hussars initially disregarded the threat, believing their massed charge could pierce through the thin screen of fire to slaughter the infantry. They only realized their mistake when the volleys tore through their ranks. These Streltsi were more elite and better trained than anything they had imagined.
The cavalrymen were cut down by the hundreds as the flintlocks fired in unison. Those who survived refused to retreat, attempting to press the charge and break the infantry before they were annihilated.
But their efforts met with despair. As they drew closer, the musket-wielding Streltsi withdrew, and their positions were immediately taken by melee troops armed with great axes. Perturabo had anticipated the hussar tactics and designed this combined-arms approach to counter them.
The axe-wielders did not disappoint. As the hussars crashed into the line, the soldiers swung their massive axes at the horses. They killed the mounts instantly, sending the riders tumbling to the ground where they were easily dispatched.
Between the musketry and the axe-work, the winged hussar force sent to attack Perturabograd suffered catastrophic losses. Out of an army of thousands, only a few dozen managed to flee the field. These broken soldiers would carry their terror and exaggerated tales of the Streltsi back to the rest of the world.
"Abo, I did not expect your Streltsi to achieve such a result in their first outing! You are not just an inventor, but a master of war. I must look at you in a new light once again."
On a nearby hillside, Father Mikhail spoke with surprise and joy, having watched the battle through a telescope Perturabo had made for him.
"Hmph. Mr. Mikhail, this is far from enough. The knowledge in my mind is far greater than this. If you wish for more complex command artistry, I can certainly perform for you."
"The military skill shown by the Streltsi today is preschool level at best. However, even this simple level is enough to sweep those feudal lords into the trash."
Perturabo gave a cold snort as he replied to his foster father's praise, his voice dripping with contempt for the Kislevite lords.
"So, from this moment, your conquest has truly begun," Mikhail nodded.
"Yes. From now on, I claim the throne of the Tsar. I will be the High Tsar of all Kislev. I will personally end this era of chaos and shape this land into a new paradise. Watch closely, Mr. Mikhail. I will achieve it." Perturabo spoke with a grim, resolute expression.