I Became the Last Princess of the Brown Bear Kingdom

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The rebellion of Islamic fundamentalists.

Honestly, it’s not an exaggeration to say there was really nothing to it.

Well, that’s because their weapons were utterly pathetic.

For starters, their numbers were quite substantial, you know? It felt like they had been gathering their people in the shadows for months. The White Army just left them be, along with the Iranian military.

Why? Because they wanted to grow these guys big and strong enough to rip out the core.

Show them some power, and they’d think twice about acting up.

“Is it alright to expand the playing field this way?”

“We should take this opportunity to completely quell those who oppose the Islamic-Hellenism Federation and the Rome Treaty.”

The Iranian military seemed quite worried.

Naturally, the more people they raised, the harder it would be to fight on our side.

Well, it’s their own country’s business, so I guess that made some sense.

“But, it’s a bit concerning for Your Majesty to participate in this battle.”

“Ah, it’s fine. This is nothing.”

Of course, I’m only doing my job.

If I have no intention of becoming Allah, it’d be better to do it resolutely this time.

I’m going to wipe out those Islamic fundamentalists with sheer force.

I am simply neither a false Allah nor anything else.

The Tsar of Russia came only to assist our ally, Iran, in quelling the rebellion.

However, there is a problem.

“Death to those who reject Allah!”

The madness here seems more extreme than the fundamentalists.

I had been overlooking this for a moment.

Perhaps in the distant future, the Islamic extremists will be those among us, not the fundamentalists pouring in from the south.

“Why are they just standing there?”

I asked Ungern just to be sure.

“They say they want to fight alongside us against the fundamentalists.”

“Are they out of their minds?”

I was awestruck to see these madmen confidently armed with the weapons of the Rome Treaty.

It seriously sounded like the Islamists were splitting apart. Or is that a good thing?

I’m talking about needing them to split up and fight amongst themselves to avoid terrorizing others.

Adding a bit of Greece to the mix would make it perfect.

“Under these circumstances, it seems we can even form a military force composed solely of Your Majesty’s fans. However, suppressing fellow Iranians feels a bit off.”

Pahlavi II seemed to be trying to back out late in the game.

This felt reminiscent of the Korean government calling Qing Dynasty forces to suppress domestic dissidents.

It’s not that bad here, but still.

No matter what, stepping on fellow Iranians seems quite unappealing.

A king who thinks of the people’s hearts—how admirable.

Though it appears he’s more scared than anything, Pahlavi is indeed a reformer.

Once the groundwork is laid, he believes they will naturally follow if given a gentle nudge.

To be exact, it seems he’s a bit anxious due to the increasingly numerous fundamentalists, but it’s a pain they must endure eventually.

But hear me out. Pahlavi II must help us now.

After the recent mosque incident, the number of Iranians has increased significantly.

“The Iranians make up about one-third.”

“Hmm, it can’t be helped.”

I just served Pahlavi a good dose of reality regarding his plan to quell the rebellion with only his fans.

Ah, what are you going to do about the Iranians!

Pahlavi II, come and follow me quickly.

If you were in support of the Islamic-Hellenism Federation with those fluttering ears, you need to show them you are indeed a pawn of Rome.

Of course, I played it cool on the surface.

“You must personally handle those fundamentalists to win back the hearts of the people. Just think about it: the whole country, nature itself, being Westernized by the advanced culture of the Rome Treaty! Days where all Iranians praise their king!”

At my words, Pahlavi II’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh. Ohhhh.”

There’s nothing more certain than a devil’s whisper.

Pahlavi II’s eyes twitched violently in response to my words.

“We help Iran not only for resources but for the coexistence of humanity. Those fundamentalists are a hindrance to Iran’s progress, aren’t they? If you are to receive praise for a thousand or ten thousand years, you must first defeat such beings and set an example.”

Pahlavi II’s firm resolve.

Pahlavi II no longer shifted his words and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Thirty thousand fundamentalist rebels have appeared south of Tehran.”

Not long after that, the real Islamic fundamentalists, gathered here, marching toward Tehran, having gathered their very souls.

If we kill them, only those who worship the false Allah will remain.

“Your Majesty, but aren’t those guys’ weapons pretty pathetic?”

“Have the ones who attempted assassination on me brought any future weapons to carry out their deeds?”

“Oh, right.”

Yeah. Those tangled in religion are the worst of the bunch.

Weapons don’t matter at all.

Those who are maddened by their beliefs persistently believe they have some religious buff and charge forth.

They think dying grants them entry to see God, go to the side of Buddha, and view dying for Allah as glory.

I hold no belief, so I won’t get any buffs.

“Hmm, is their goal to completely consume Tehran?”

However, these guys didn’t rise up to overturn everything.

I could say they took arms merely to kill the false Allah and prove that I’m not him.

“Shall we just slam them with the armored division?”

“We can’t use the armored division. It would make the crazed Iraqis who followed us here suspicious, wouldn’t it?”

It’s better to face insanity with insanity.

The Iraqis, fans of Islamic Anajang, will form a volunteer army and tackle that madness.

At least those idiots don’t see me as Allah anymore. Nevertheless, in their hearts, they likely still treat me as such.

Naturally, they were only targeting me.

We dug trench south of Tehran and faced off against them.

Yeah. I thought we were in a standoff.

“But those guys are mindlessly charging in.”

Shockingly, those bastards were indeed charging in without a care.

Like they were truly engulfed in madness. Running in without a single thought.

“Those guys are only targeting Your Majesty!”

“We cannot follow the false Allah!”

“Allahu Akbar! The one true God is with us!”

They could be considered incredibly cunning.

To stop Islamic-Hellenism, to prove I’m the false Allah, they only target me.

[Kwahwaaaang!]

Some directly threw bombs at me.

It was so absurd I had to push Pahlavi II back and use my own body as a meat shield.

The funny thing is, most of the bombs were intercepted before they flew toward us.

Sometimes, though, some would still come flying toward me.

“Khaaaak!”

Some of my Roman Treaty soldiers and a few Iranians protecting me perished.

Even if a hundred rebels die, they’d still rush recklessly. That’s what it was.

It was impossible to stop a suicide attack when they were fully prepared to be almost annihilated.

“Allahu Akbar!”

Those who had made up their minds to madly charge at me succeeded in carrying out a suicide bombing when the Roman Treaty soldiers were caught off guard.

“Damn it. Those stupid rebels!”

“No way, this is too much!”

Once the thick smoke cleared, around me lay the remains of what were once fundamentalists who had detonated themselves in a terror attack.

Oh, this time, I felt quite a bit of pain too.

The feeling of having my whole body compressed, as if a rubber band had been pulled to its limit and released, is still unfamiliar.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?”

Ungern, whom I told to stay back, hurriedly rushed over.

Ah, don’t touch me. My body really hurts right now.

If it hurts this much from a bomb, I can’t help but think I’d really die from a nuclear hit.

To be precise, I’d probably die from shock.

That damned old man. At least make it so I can’t feel pain. What the heck is this? A person dying wouldn’t be able to feel this much.

“It’s fine, but it doesn’t feel great. Give me a second; I’m in pain. Stay back.”

This feeling as if someone is stretching and compressing my body!

If anyone touches me even a little now, I’m going to scream.

Right now, I’m just enduring this massive pain.

I doubt even a person with a severed wrist would hurt more than I do.

“Damn it. Those bastards!”

Before I knew it, soldiers had gathered around me.

I was worried we might all die, but fortunately, the increased firepower meant the fundamentalists couldn’t even approach us anymore.

“This can’t be happening. Are they really not dying? How is this possible?”

At this point, I’m getting angry too. That’s what I’m saying.

This indescribable discomfort. I really can’t stand it.

Every time I see that expression of disbelief from those who confirmed my invincibility once, it’s just boring now.

It’s almost like one of those Japanese isekai reincarnation stories.

– Ah, this is the immortal cheat, isn’t it?

– Ooooooh, Anajang is amazing!

It feels as if it’s simply a one-tool trick.

However, these Islamic fundamentalists were fundamentally different.

Surprisingly, I realized that those fools here weren’t necessarily idiots but rather marinated pickles in Islam.

“That’s preposterous! That is heresy! A witch of the Russian Orthodox is trying to take the place of Allah!”

Oh, there’s some truth to that.

This won’t do. I need to step up confidently.

I need to present myself more Allah-like, no, even if I’m not Allah, I must be impressive enough. I approached the rebels calmly.

They were on guard but didn’t immediately attack.

They wouldn’t waste bullets on a woman who wouldn’t die even from a bomb.

“Right. I’m not Allah.”

“Look! Finally admitted it! This filthy woman!”

Filthy, you say? How rude.

I slowly, yet without a hint of hesitation, proclaimed firmly.

“If you call me Allah, then I am your Allah. If you call me a saint, then I am your saint. If you call me a whore, then I’m just a whore selling my body.”

“What nonsense!”

This isn’t nonsense.

Ultimately, people change their perceptions based on their beliefs.

In a civil war, commencing social policies before the Reds means the Tsar becomes a white-clad Red! Thus, here I am, being a Red.

“People are whatever they want to be based on their mindset. If they exalt me as Emperor, then I will be an Emperor. If they revere me as God, then I become God.”

That’s what I’m saying here.

Whether it be Allah, a saint, or an Emperor, those above are what you create.

“The leaders, the vested interests exist because of people like you. How can you claim to be above me? I have become a saint through the Russians who regard me as one, and every European country acknowledges me as the Roman Emperor.”

Now, take a moment.

“And here, there are those who believe in me as Allah and those who believe in me as the apostle of Allah, and that’s why I do not die here.”

This is the extent of my rhetoric.

How you view the current situation depends entirely on your perspective.

“This makes no sense. This can’t be happening.”

A man just shook his head as if possessed.

Yeah, it probably doesn’t make sense. But they won’t be able to deny it.

“The senseless or the sensible— that depends on your choice. No more meaningless sacrifices. This would not be what your true Allah desires.”

Everyone silently listened to my words.

It’s like thinking of a nose ring as merely a piece of jewelry, or a pair of earrings depending on your outlook.

I’m merely stating this, yet who could dare doubt it given the sight of my death-defying self, complemented by the atmosphere?

“The Russian Orthodox will never persecute a mosque, nor infiltrate Islam. Every country has its religious freedom laws. The only reason I’m interested in Islam is that there are those who sing my praises as Allah, and I wish to give back to them. So do not distort my intentions.”

After all, there is Islam in Russia too.

Sure, it may be in the lower regions, but still, it exists.

So, don’t twist it— just accept it.

All I desire is to fortify the friendly relations between Islam and the Rome Treaty.

“Your Majesty. This is too dangerous.”

“Everyone, lower your weapons. I, the Tsar of Russia, have come to befriend Islam, not to kill each other.”

At my words, the fundamentalists exchanged glances and lowered their weapons.

Most of them probably thought shooting at a woman who won’t die is pointless anyway.

At the very least, I doubt most of them believed I genuinely wouldn’t die.

They must have thought the Tsar of Russia was lying to dominate the Middle East.

But after seeing with their own eyes, they have no choice but to believe.

“Are you going to let them go again this time?”

“Well, I must save them for now.”

If those guys die here, it seems like the crazies would just multiply.

Those who call me the false Allah will never be forgiven by Allah! This way, beheading could become the standard option.

From now on, how I sow the seeds will be important.