Chapter 1237 A Hatred That Transcends Time And Space

Hans sat in the chair, which his father had granted him permission to use. In one hand was a glass of tea, and in the other was a cookie. He appeared to rather enjoy the conversation which he was having with the old man at this moment. Though he still had a hard time believing his eyes.

After all, both his father and mother appeared twenty years younger than they should be, something which was definitely abnormal in this world. But despite his astonishment, Hans maintained his professionalism as he spoke about the ongoing situation with the Rus States.

"Currently, the Rus Kingdoms are engaged in a series of bloody civil wars. We have provided weapons and munitions to both factions. Basically, anyone who wants to get their hands on a submachine gun can do so. And this had increased the casualty rate among Rus men. Who seems more than happy to kill each other?"

Berengar nodded his head in understanding. The Rus were never really a problem for him, simply because he had kept a constant supply of dirt cheap alcohol into those lands. But Siberia was a vast wasteland filled with natural resources. Why would Germany be content to hand over those resources to the Rus?

Once they finally managed to industrialize in a few centuries, it could be a serious problem for the balance of power on the global scale. Thus, he approved of his son's deciding to take some pre-emptive actions to prevent this from happening. But it was abundantly clear to the man that his son harbored a special kind of hatred for the Rus, one that would not be extinguished until he had genocide their people from the world.

Thus, Berengar could not help but inquire about the origins of this hate. Something which he was all too experienced with. After all, in his past life, his family was particularly disdainful of the Russians for the atrocities they committed during the Second World War and the Bolshevik Revolution.

But neither of those two incidents occurred in this world's history, thus he could only presume this had to deal with that little incident with Veronika all those years ago.

"I take it you plan to wipe out the male bloodline of the Russian population, and integrate their women into our Empire as the secondary wives of German men? Am I correct in this line of thinking?"

Hans was not surprised that his father had seen through all his plans. After all, he had never met someone with an intellect which was on par with his own. Besides his own family, and undoubtedly those genes came from his father. As they were also present in his half siblings like Zara. Thus, he smiled and nodded his head before confirming this was the case.

"I can never hide things from you father... Yes, that is the plan."

Berengar nodded his head as he took a sip from his teacup, before replying to his son's statement with a question that was deeply personal.

"And I presume this hatred you have towards the Russian people stems from what that little cunt tried to do to Veronika? Far be it from me to condemn your actions. The gods know that I am guilty of my own purges. I'm just trying to understand where your anger towards the Russians stems from? After all, unlike me, you are not aware of what they did to our people during my past life."

Hans narrowed his eyes when he heard this question before responding with one of his own. There was a flicker of rage in his eyes as he spoke with a vicious tone in his voice.

"What did they do?"

Berengar scoffed as he informed Hans about some particularly brutal affairs that he would never be able to forget, despite not experiencing them himself.

"In the year 1918, the Russian Empire collapsed on itself, after being defeated by Germany in what was at the time known as the Great War. A civil war occurred. And during this civil war, the bolsheviks who were a group of Russian and Jewish communists, targeted a group of people known as Volga Germans. These were Germans who migrated to Russia to help them with their agriculture, and had lived there for several decades.

Many Volga Germans were persecuted and killed, which only increased in intensity after the Second World War broke out. Where the Russians massacred about one and a half million Volga Germans. Of course, we lost that war, and as a result, the Russians raped anywhere between two to four million German women and girls, some as young as eight years old, and as much as sixty times per woman.

Naturally, we are not entirely innocent in this matter. I mean, we killed plenty of Russians during the war, so much so that I can't help but believe the massacre of the Volga Germans was a poor attempt at retaliation for this. Still, the deaths of civilians during military operations, is not the same as an organized rape and massacre of millions of our people.

I am telling you all of this, specifically because the animosity between our people and the Russians transcends timelines. And I would not be surprised at all if this existed in every conceivable timeline.

So, if you can end this animosity, once and for all. Then you have my full support. Especially if it means you can finally put an end to the hatred that you have in your heart. Although, I doubt Veronika cares as much about that past incident as you seem to."

Hans was surprised to hear that all of this had happened in his father's life, and was quick to ask the immediate question on his mind because of it.

"Father, did you witness all of this? If what you say is true, I can't imagine why you did not get rid of the Russians yourself?"

Contrary to what Hans was expecting, Berengar simply scoffed and took another sip of his tea before shaking his head. He then explained his opinions on the matter.

"No, I was several generations removed from these matters. In fact, by the time I was born, most people seemed to have either forgotten about these grievances, or simply did not care.

Only the most nationalistic and stubborn of German families, most of which existed outside the fatherland, would still harbor such hatred over matters that happened before they were born.

I was raised in one of these households, but I must admit the hatred towards the Russians that my parents had seemed so foreign to me. Partially because I was born and raised in another country, and partially because my political ideology was more inline with the Russians of the modern world, than the country I fought for.

It is specifically because of this that I did nothing more than keep the Russians down by drowning their society with cheap liquor. If I shared my parents' disdain for the Russians, perhaps I would have taken your approach. So although I can understand your justifications for the actions you are about to take, and I support them. I personally do not share your hatred.

Now, Hans, if there is nothing else that you wish to speak about. I believe it is time for you to return to Kufstein. It is getting late, and your mothers and I have plans for the evening.

So, I wish you the best of luck in your upcoming campaign. Though I know you do not need it."

Hans immediately rose from his chair and shook his father's hand. He then expressed his thanks for the chat, which cleared up many of his misunderstandings before heading out the door.

"Thank you, father, for the discussion. It was enlightening. After hearing what you have to say about the Russians from your past life, I believe I will be doing the world a favor by getting rid of their barbaric bloodline once and for all. Goodbye father, I will be sure to visit you and mother more frequently from now on."

Berengar smiled and sent his son on the way with a wave of his hand. After Hans was gone, he looked over at a nearby globe and shook his head before expressing his thoughts out loud.

"It is a pity that the Russian civilization will come to an end before it has time to flourish within this timeline. But I suppose it is necessary for the continued survival and stability of the Reich."

After saying this, Berengar placed his teacup on the table and walked away from the living room. Where he enjoyed the rest of his evening in the company of his many wives and concubines.

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