Chapter Seventy-Seven: Germany's Defeat

Kyle of the American Empire. War hero, the youngest major general, a living symbol of national conquest and power—truly deserving of his reputation!

This was the prevailing impression and conclusion among most of the allied armies. It was also why, upon breaching German territory and advancing deep into enemy lands, even though the returning Kyle had not requested command of the vanguard, the scouts and communications officers of the allied forces still made sure to report his presence according to procedure.

“So, we’ve finally reached Berlin. A few days slower than expected…” Kyle remarked as he leapt down from the top of the lead armored vehicle, flexing his hands to loosen his joints.

Fury stepped out from the vehicle, his expression still tense as he reminded, “We’re now entering the main urban district of Germany’s capital. Beyond those buildings, a few hundred meters ahead, the last armed unit of Berlin is likely entrenched.”

“Should I go ahead and scout it out?” Logan, clad in an American military uniform, said calmly from the vehicle.

“No need. I’ll check it out myself.” Kyle shrugged, and without waiting for a reply, he detached himself from the tens of thousands of soldiers in the vanguard and strode alone down the wide, deserted street.

High above, Blue Eagle circled at several thousand meters, securing the skies. Should any bombers appear, an alert would come instantly.

Given his strength and survival instincts, the exhausted German forces had nothing left that could truly threaten him. Unless, in a final act of madness, Germany decided to drop a nuclear bomb on its own capital.

But that was unthinkable on every level. Besides, intelligence indicated that when Hydra fell out with the Nazis, they stole more than half of Germany’s nuclear research data, leaving Germany unable to complete the weapon that could have changed the course of the war.

Meanwhile, the Americans had recovered those stolen documents from Hydra’s final underground base in the Alps, and were themselves on the verge of producing their own nuclear arms.

This was what Howard had confided to him at the base. As one of the country’s leading scientific strategists, working closely with the military, Howard was a core participant in the development of these weapons…

Pushing aside any further thoughts of nuclear dread, Kyle had already advanced nearly a hundred meters away from the Allied forces, steadily drawing nearer to Berlin’s city center.

His pace was unhurried, more like a stroll than a reconnaissance mission through a war-torn city.

After another three hundred meters, Kyle’s extraordinary senses picked up something. Just as he was about to cross a street intersection, he quietly shifted his venomous battle suit into full coverage mode, his body tensing, ready for combat at any moment.

The instant he stepped into the intersection, his stride came to a sudden halt and he stood tall, right in the middle of the crossroads.

A cacophony of weapons being raised erupted from every direction. From both sides of the street, the sound of countless rifles being brought to aim filled the air, all barrels trained on the solitary figure in the intersection.

“An ambush,” Kyle murmured, his gaze icy as he surveyed the surroundings. Encircled by thousands of armed German soldiers, he slowly gripped the sodium-carbon steel sword at his back with his left hand.

A sword against thousands of guns.

It might have seemed laughable, but none of the German soldiers could bring themselves to smile. Some even trembled as they clutched their rifles, sweat soaking through the lining of their uniforms.

Heaven only knew what kind of war demon they were facing.

“Hold your fire! Stand down!” In the suffocating silence, a mature, raspy voice suddenly rang out, and thousands of German soldiers immediately obeyed, lowering their weapons.

Kyle looked on in surprise as a middle-aged officer, bearing honor epaulettes and dressed in the uniform of a general, strode briskly forward from the rear of the entrenched troops. Clearly, he was the commanding officer.

“Are you… ‘Kyle of the American Empire’?” the officer asked in somewhat flawed English.

He saw little need to answer.

Kyle met the officer’s gaze with cold indifference, taking a few steps forward with sword in hand. Instinctively, the surrounding German soldiers raised their guns once more, aiming at him.

“I said, put your weapons down!” the officer barked, wiping the sweat from his brow and speaking with a bitter resignation. “That’s enough. Everything is over.”

Staring at Kyle’s fully armored form, the officer drew a deep breath. “My name is Delrich Paulus, Field Marshal of the German Army. Here, on behalf of the entire military…I choose to surrender.”

With those words—forced and full of helplessness—the German Marshal seemed to breathe easier, exhaustion and defeat clouding his face as he ordered, “All soldiers, throw down your weapons and stand by.”

A deathly silence fell.

Thousands of German troops looked at one another. But when one soldier resolutely dropped his rifle, the rest followed suit, casting down their weapons and magazines in a wave, the sight both grand and tragic.

The will to fight had long since left them; they were merely the last heavy straw to break the camel’s back.

Kyle understood this well and was unsurprised. He slid the sodium-carbon steel sword back onto his back.

Whether to accept the surrender would be up to Commander Chester in the rear. In any case, he felt no desire to strike down soldiers who had wholly lost the will to resist.

Kyle ignored the German soldiers and led the German Marshal back toward the Allied lines.

…

Germany’s last defensive force had capitulated without a fight, signaling the early end of this grand campaign.

The Allies detained the German Marshal and left troops to guard thousands of prisoners, while the rest of the vanguard surged powerfully into Berlin’s city center.

An hour later, the German capital was completely occupied.

Hitler, the Nazi leader, had already, upon hearing of the Marshal’s surrender, shot himself in the Presidential Office half an hour earlier, ordering his soldiers to burn his body on the spot.

With the death of Hitler, the instigator of the Second World War, Germany’s total defeat was announced.

The Allied vanguard quickly set about garrisoning Berlin, managing prisoners, and establishing communications with the rear. As Fury efficiently dispatched soldiers to arrest the scientists at the research institute, he realized that Kyle and Logan had already vanished again.

Meanwhile, in the underground vault of Berlin’s secret military depot—

The iron door was torn open by a pair of dark, razor-sharp claws. Two shadows slipped through the gap and found the main circuit switch. As the lights flared, the vast underground storehouse was instantly illuminated.

“So the German Marshal wasn’t lying after all,” Kyle said, retracting his claws as he eyed the vast hoard of supplies remaining in the depot, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“We can’t carry much, just the two of us,” Logan remarked from beside him.

“You guard the door. I’ll handle the rest,” Kyle replied with a mysterious grin, striding toward the piles of supplies wrapped in green canvas.

Today, he would help himself—without restraint.