Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince-Novel

The 37 mm infantry support gun from the Yamato Empire army shot at the convoy of the Ruthenian Grand Duchesses in the dead of night. The shell missed its target and struck the road, exploding with a force that shook the ground.

“Get down!” Rolan shouted as he reached for the three Grand Duchess who were lowering their heads and bracing themselves.

‘That was a fucking cannon!’, Rolan cursed inwardly, remembering the sound of artillery fire and the bursting shells during his time fighting the Anatolians in the Balkans during the Rutho-Anatolian War.

It really seems that someone truly wants the Ruthenian princesses dead if they brought that sort of firepower for a mere assassination attempt.

The shell was a prelude to the onslaught, and it followed spectacularly as Maxim machine guns from either side of the street started firing at them. The bullets flatten and ricochet noisily off the composite armor and bulletproof glass of the Bukavac and the two SUVs, producing a cacophony of metal hammering against metal.

However, the convoy was not halted as the hail of gunfire from Yamato machine gun nests rained down upon them and the convoy drove forward all the while the operator aimed the M134 minigun towards opposing units whose positions were shown thanks to the muzzle flash of their weapons._.

***

The Yamato riflemen lieutenant spotted a Ruthie in the roof turret of the black SUV and turned towards their position. The gunfire, streetlights, and bright vehicle lights from the convoy reveal the figure to be manning a portable Gatling gun without the ammunition magazine attached to it.

‘Hah! The stupid Ruthies are gonna die!’ even the lieutenant knows he might be executed to cover up the incident or stripped of rank and deployed somewhere terrible.  He could not stop smiling with bloodlust as he finally gets to kill a damn Ruthie as revenge for killing some of his pals in the brutal Rutho-Yamato War.

He pointed his sword in the direction of the Gatling gun operator.

“Shoot that man! Now!”

The Imperial Yamato riflemen under his command aim at the idiotic Ruthie who seems to have made the stupid mistake of not loading the Gatling gun first before he hears something like hard flatulence.

***

The barrels of the belt-fed electrically driven Gatling gun spun and spewed out 7.62×51mm rounds at more than 2000 round a minute. Literally buzzing the Maxims fast drumming of 600 rounds a minute with an unimaginable fire rate of this era.

With also a muzzle velocity of 853 m/s, the M134 Minigun has 109 m/s more muzzle velocity than the Maxim’s which results in the projectile having more penetrating power with higher velocity.

The bodies of the ambushing Yamato turned into honeycombs while the others found their bodies cut in half.

Some of the machine guns and rifles were even shot to pieces by the swarm of hot lead.

The Yamato lieutenant and his sword joined the pieces that were his men and equipment, dead before he even knew it after hearing the “Fart of Death”.

“We are being ambushed!” Rolan barked through his earpiece connected to the Ruthenian Embassy to the Yamato Empire. “I repeat we are being ambushed. We are currently receiving heavy fire from unknown elements.”

Rolan could hear the muffled cries of the Grand Duchesses behind his seat, scared of the bullet barrage hammering upon them from all sides, the lead spider webbing the bulletproof windows that held against the deadly metal rain.

“Wait…what?! Louder! I can’t hear you,” Rolan yelled with a shake of his head.

A second shell from the type 11 37mm infantry support gun fired and struck the Bukavac at an angle and ricocheted off the armored plate. The sound of tearing metal filled the air along with a metallic screech. The truck’s tires spun as they tried to get out of the pandemonium.

“We’re heading to the embassy!” Rolan said to the driver. Artur Markov, who was holding the wheel tightly in an attempt to remain steady.

“Copy that,” Arthur acknowledged as he pressed the pedal. The engine roared and accelerated ahead.

Rolan’s eyes darted frantically across the dash as if he might be able to spot an opening. There was nothing but chaos in front of them as hostiles began pouring into the street with their bolt-action rifle firing intently at their windows.

They were safe from the inside thanks to the security features the Bukavac offers but it can only hold out for so long before a 37mm scores a hit on the windshield and kills all the occupants. Rolan observed both sides of the street and found out that the hostiles engaging them are not in a uniform which could help him identify their foes. But one thing for sure is that they are using standardized rifles and guns from the Yamato Empire.

Are they affiliated with the government of the Yamato Empire? Rolan asked himself. It’s highly likely that it would be the case. After all, there are not many paramilitary organizations in the Yamato Empire that could operate infantry support guns and machine guns with the ammunition needed. They are all reserved for the Army.

Be that as it may, they still need to get out of here.

About 100 meters from their position, there is an intersection, straight ahead of that lies the Ruthenian Embassy, their safe house.

They have to get to the Ruthenian Embassy, that was the order he received from the Central Command from St. Petersburg overseeing the unfolding of the situation.

He’s also certain that Alexander is on his way to the General Staff Building and already imagining him becoming furious about this mess.

Rolan mouthed an apology to his Emperor. He had failed to ensure the safety of the Grand Duchesses. If the Emperor wishes him to resign, he would gladly do so.

The SUV leading the way pushed through the rain of gunfire until suddenly—its left front tire was blasted from the impact of the 37-millimeter shell. Igor lost control and crashed onto the lamp pole.