Two days earlier.
Berlin, underground research facility, operations room.
Saint General stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the war zone map hanging on the wall, his brow tightly furrowed.
After having Siegfried eliminate that arrogant and blind Fuhrer, he had become the new leader of the Third Reich.
Although the process had not gone smoothly, there had been plenty of opposition—after all, that Austrian little mustache had no other strengths, but he had certainly been skilled at brainwashing and had quite a few diehard followers.
"A bunch of fools who can't think for themselves and only know how to follow blindly. How could they possibly see the Empire's future!"
Saint General sneered.
"Fortunately, you're still on my side, Guderian. At least I'm not completely isolated and helpless."
He turned around and looked at the stern man fiddling with the military sand table.
The man's name was Heinz-William Guderian. Nicknamed the Eagle of the Reich, he was an outstanding commander on par with Manstein and Rommel.
It was precisely this man who had helped Saint General stabilize the situation and prevented the vast Empire from falling apart.
"I once warned him that using armored forces to launch a direct assault on heavily defended Kursk was an extremely foolish move."
Guderian spoke expressionlessly.
"But the Fuhrer always liked doing things his own way. He had no strategic vision whatsoever and understood nothing about military command. In that regard, his talent was not even as good as it was in art and painting."
Saint General nodded in deep agreement. He and Guderian had once naively believed that the Fuhrer could lead the Third Reich in a better direction.
Unfortunately, the facts proved that Austrian bumpkin was not up to the task.
"We both want to build a stronger, greater