Bernard was left speechless. No hidden danger could outweigh survival itself. Problems of the future could wait until the future; only by surviving this immediate ordeal would they have the means to consider them.
Everyone had personally felt the Russians' threat. Property losses were a minor issue—the crucial thing was that even their personal safety was not guaranteed.
Königsberg had fallen into desolation precisely because the Tsarist army's discipline was so atrocious. Going out onto the streets meant walking on eggshells; who would still dare to do business?
A priest suggested, "How about we discuss it with the nobles in the city?"
Bishop Bernard hurriedly said, "No! Father Rennes, you should know the nobles' current situation. The Russians are watching them like hawks. If we go knocking on their door now, do you think we'll be able to leave afterward?"
The Junker nobles remained deeply loyal to the Kingdom of Prussia. Many hot-blooded young men among them were leading guerrilla forces behind enemy lines, so naturally they had become prime targets of the Russians.
It was not that Bishop Bernard did not support the guerrillas. East Prussia was simply too small. With 380,000 Russian troops crammed into a mere thirty-odd thousand square kilometers of land, how was anyone supposed to play this game?
The outcome went without saying. The resistance groups were wiped out, and the civilians who supported the guerrillas suffered grievous losses. The Russians used tens of thousands of corpses to teach them a lesson: don't stir up trouble.
That was also why the local nobles had gathered together. They had truly been frightened, afraid that the Russian brutes might have a sudden fit of madness and slit their throats as well.
When everyone gathered together, even if someone lost his head and wanted to act, the noble