Reincarnated as Nikolai II

While this fact alone was a great comfort to Brusilov, when he thought about the future, this time felt somewhat regretful.

’Just as General Dukhovskoy placed me in this position. I too must leave someone behind...’

Brusilov had to acknowledge that his life had already entered its twilight years.

He was too old. Contrary to his will, directly commanding combat as cavalry was now impossible, and with the flow of time, cavalry would become obsolete.

In fact. Brusilov didn’t want to admit that cavalry should now be phased out.

He didn’t want to see that sight, nor face that process and its results.

That’s why Mannerheim being Finnish felt even more regrettable.

A fellow cavalry officer.

Cavalry regiment, cavalry school, staff college, cavalry regiment commander, participation in the Russo-Japanese War, China expedition (Asian exploration).

Beyond his impressive background, in Brusilov’s view, there was no cavalry with more appropriate aggressiveness left in the entire empire.

"Well, even if Finland gains political independence, will we separate overnight? The two countries are one body anyway."

"Whether the military will also be one body, that’s another matter. Who knows? The two countries might even fight a war in midwinter decades later."

"Uh... Well, war in Finland where snow basically reaches your waist. I heard even on the Western Front, trench warfare stops by November."

"Just as an example."

Brusilov, making up any example, probed Mannerheim.

"While the Tsar certainly isn’t someone who would start a war with Finland first, if it happens nonetheless, I will still protect Finland."

"Tch, can’t you at least make empty words about abandoning your homeland for Russia? Even in front of me?" 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"The Russian Empire I know isn’t a country that would trust someone who abandoned their homeland."

Though the unyielding student is vexing, that makes him even more desirable.

He doesn’t want to send such a cavalry officer with straight beliefs and unyielding determination to Finland.

Beyond that, perhaps Brusilov expected that Mannerheim might be able to change the future of cavalry.

"You independently captured Kraśnik city last time? How about trying again?"

"What, me? I’m just a lieutenant general. Put someone else at the front."

"Why, scared of machine guns?"

"...Machine guns are meaningless here in the south. This is the south without trenches, walls, or rivers."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It means mobility is still most important."

"Hm, you’re not afraid."

No one can become Marshal.

Even Kuropatkin who controls this massive war from his desk cannot ultimately reach Marshal, and Roman Kontrashenko, the Eastern Front’s great general, still hasn’t reached Field Marshal.

However, not all generals are the same generals.

The empire’s best offensive commander, an army group commander who served as Chief of General Staff regardless of the process.

Aleksei Brusilov, knowing his name’s worth better than anyone, intended to keep this Mannerheim by his side.

’If he reaches general, he’ll stay in the Russian army even if the Grand Duchy of Finland becomes militarily independent after the war.’

Even if not, Brusilov had no intention of easily letting Mannerheim go.

Except for General Mexmontan, Mannerheim was the most successful Finn in the imperial army, so he must personally hold him back from returning.

"Since you know so well, try taking the lead. Go and show me breakthrough or annihilation. If you succeed, I’ll change those shoulder boards first."

"Can you just decide such things? Officer promotion is managed by the Imperial Household Ministry and high ranks can only be approved by the Tsar-"

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"There are always exceptions. I too was promoted to general after General Dukhovskoy had a round with Prime Minister Witte."

"..."

Mannerheim gaped at him after hearing the truth about the lineage of cavalry generals becoming war heroes, but Brusilov was confident.

"Army Cavalry General, going to retire without doing this?"

A miracle where Brusilov, his mentor and superior who seemed to never waver as an elite from a noble family with proper regular education, looked like a back alley gangster today.

However, what shook Mannerheim’s heart more was.

’...Army General.’

That rank of Army General that might be attainable only with luck, timing, backing, bloodline, and ability all together.

That rank with nothing drawn on it, meaning you no longer need to care about stars once you pass the lieutenant general’s three stars.

Beyond temptation, it seems like the meaning of his life lived so far is contained there.

However, the greed was brief, and Mannerheim shook his head.

"I’m satisfied with the Order of St. George 4th Class received in ’14."

"You’re from a noble family but fallen nobility, right? Let’s see, Roman rose to Count after the Russo-Japanese War."

To Brusilov’s continued provocation of his ambition, Mannerheim asked back.

"If you really need it, you can just order me. Why are you doing this?"

"Mannerheim. This horse we’ve ridden all our lives is actually a fearful animal. It stops at just the sound of shells and slows down when dirt flies in front."

A fearful animal unsuited to its size, that’s the horse.

"But a well-trained horse. That is, a fine horse accustomed to battle won’t stop even if high explosives detonate right beside it unless the rider pulls the reins. What I need now is such cavalry. Not those who stop because bullets graze them or the enemy resists fiercely, but fine horses that run until death."

"...I’m not a horse."

"But you won’t stop. Because you know better than anyone that you must not stop."

Cavalry is a corpse without mobility.

Their firepower is worse than infantry, mounted combat is nonsense in this era, and independent engagement is impossible.

So cavalry on this Southern Front will mostly die rushing forward.

Although he knows this fact better than anyone, nevertheless, Brusilov needed that charging cavalry.

To take position one step faster than the enemy.

To cut across enemy formations.

To confuse the enemy, prevent them from gathering, and ultimately annihilate them.

"I’m not telling you to be greedy now."

"..."

"I’m saying you can be greedy if you survive this battlefield."

If you take on the most dangerous and difficult role, a reward befitting that.

"How about it, will you try?"

The modernist faction, Lieutenant General Mannerheim - good ability, knows his place well, and won’t abandon his role.

He pondered briefly, then slowly nodded.

"Good, I’m looking forward to it."

There’s no failure for cavalry in actual combat. Because they would already be dead the moment they diverge even slightly.

However, if successful.

’...This friend is just fifty years old. He should easily last another 20 years.’