Arc of Fire

Chapter 68

All the rookies, including Dimitri, turned pale.

Even Grigori looked ready to push Wang Zhong down at any moment.

But Wang Zhong wouldn't be fooled by such words.

Damn it, where did such rapid air support come from in World War II? Do you think this is the U.S. military in the Gulf War?

This isn't a game like Steel Division 2, where you call in the air force, wait for a loading bar, and they fly in from the edge of the map!

Wang Zhong stepped forward and slapped the officer: "Nonsense! There's no way you can get air support this fast! These planes are heading somewhere else, just passing by! You're trying to trick us into taking cover so you can pull something off!"

The officer raised his head defiantly: "It seems you know nothing about the advancements in our military technology, you ignorant inferior being!"

Wang Zhong burst into laughter: "Military advancements, huh? Look at your so-called proud tank units-aren't they still getting crushed by our KV tanks?"

The officer's expression immediately soured.

At that moment, the sound of engines came from the southwest, loud enough to be heard even without a sound array.

The officer showed a smug look, while Wang Zhong pursed his lips, looking at him with a half-smile.

Dimitri: "Shouldn't we take cover just in case?"

Wang Zhong: "Look at this village. Do you see any traces of enemy bombs? This place isn't their target, and their call for support couldn't possibly get a response this quickly. Isn't the answer obvious?"

The real reason Wang Zhong was so calm was that he had already seen the enemy aircraft from an overhead perspective, and their flight path clearly didn't pass through Kalinnovka village.

If it weren't for that, he would never have risked everyone's lives just to test whether his guess was correct.

The roar of the engines grew closer, and Wang Zhong walked straight out of the yard, standing in the middle of the village road, fearlessly gazing up at the sky.

The Prossenian officer shouted: "You'll be riddled with bullets by the machine guns! You're all going to die!"

Wang Zhong: "So will you, maybe even a little sooner than us."

By now, the engine noise was so loud that the windows of the surrounding houses started to rattle.

The Guardsmen all pressed themselves against the walls, lowering their stances.

Among the captives, some simply dropped to the ground, while only the officer kept glaring at Wang Zhong in the middle of the road.

Then, the engine noise faded into the distance.

Wang Zhong turned to the enemy Lieutenant: "Where's your air support?"

The Lieutenant's face turned ashen.

From the rooftop, Monk Petro poked his head out: "The enemy aircraft are gone! They're heading toward Loktov!"

Wang Zhong spread his arms, welcoming the admiring gazes of his subordinates: "Don't be so surprised. I told you, Prossenian air-ground coordination isn't that good. There's no way they could call in planes this fast.

"Even if he did call for planes, it would take at least an hour for those guys to fly over from the airfield!

"And this village shows no signs of being bombed. It's not a target for the Prossenian air force!"

Wang Zhong tapped his temple: "Use your brains, classmates. As long as you're smarter than the enemy, you can defeat them!"

The officer stared at Wang Zhong with wide eyes, looking him up and down several times, the earlier contempt completely gone from his face.

He asked in Ant language: "May I ask who exactly... you are?"

Wang Zhong: "It seems Prossenians lack manners. Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking someone's identity?"

"You're right. I am Lieutenant Joseph von Hoffman of the 220th Motorized Reconnaissance Regiment. May I ask who you are?"

"Alexei Konstantinovich Rokosov, Brigadier General."

Lieutenant Hoffman was shocked, instinctively stepping back, only to find the surrounding Guardsmen stepping forward, several gun barrels pressed against his back.

The Lieutenant looked at Wang Zhong again, shouting something in Prossenian.

Wang Zhong turned to Dimitri: "What did he say?"

"White Horse General. The newspapers say it's a nickname the enemy gave you."

Wang Zhong approached the enemy with a slight smile: "That's right. I am the White Horse General, the enemy you can't kill. I will fight until your empire is destroyed."

Lieutenant: "Impossible! The empire has won every war since its founding!"

"Then this!" Wang Zhong pointed at the ground beneath his feet, "This will be its last war! At most five years, and we will completely destroy it!"

The enemy officer's lips trembled, but Wang Zhong's confidence suppressed any thought of rebuttal. In the end, he finally lowered his proud head.

Wang Zhong waved his hand: "Load him onto the vehicle. Prepare to withdraw!"

At that moment, the gate of the yard next to the post office opened, and an old man came out leaning on a cane, looking at Wang Zhong: "General, sir, are you leaving?"

Wang Zhong: "We'll be back."

Old man: "When? In five years?"

It turned out the old man had overheard the earlier conversation.

Wang Zhong: "Maybe it won't take five years, old sir."

The old man hesitated, then pulled a few potatoes from his pocket and stuffed them into Wang Zhong's hands: "I sent my daughter-in-law away with the kids and our belongings. This is all I have left at home."

Wang Zhong keenly noticed the key phrase: daughter-in-law. He didn't need to ask where the son had gone; it was obvious.

He looked at the potatoes and realized they had probably been in the old man's pocket for a long time, likely the last of his emergency food.

"Old sir, we've eaten plenty. You should keep these potatoes for yourself."

Old man: "I'm already old. During the Civil War, I tried to enlist to fight for the secular faction, but they wouldn't take me."

The Civil War in the Ante Empire was a conflict between the secular faction and the devout faction of the Eastern Holy Church. In the end, the secular faction won, placing the current Tsar on the throne.

Old man: "Just let these potatoes fight for Saint Andrew one last time on my behalf!"

Saint Andrew, the founder of the secular faction, is the origin of the Andrew's Cross on the empire's flag.

Wang Zhong stared at the old man for a few seconds before taking the potatoes: "I'll make good use of them."

Old man: "Even throwing them at the enemy in a pinch would do!"

Wang Zhong nodded, then thought to himself, why not ask the old man about the wind direction and such around here?

So he asked: "Sir, have you lived here long?"

"My whole life."

Wang Zhong: "What kind of winds blow here during this season?"

The old man smiled: "You're planning to shell this area, aren't you? I'll tell you, at around nine in the evening this season, there's usually no wind. If you fire then, just aim using the map coordinates, and you'll be fine."

Wang Zhong nodded.

At that moment, Grigori came over and saluted Wang Zhong: "General, sir, all the spoils have been accounted for. We've captured five submachine guns, two machine guns, some ammunition, and one usable motorcycle!"

Wang Zhong: "Paint our army's insignia on the motorcycle and requisition it."

He turned to look at the scattered bodies of Prossenian soldiers on the main street and added: "Plant grenades under these soldiers' bodies. Attach the pull rings to them so that when the enemy moves the bodies, the grenades will detonate."

"Yes, sir." Grigori turned to give the order, "You all heard that. Get to work!"

Then he said to Wang Zhong: "The walkie-talkie has been checked and isn't damaged. Dimitri is studying the user manual we found on the enemy communications soldier."

Wang Zhong nodded, about to go check on the walkie-talkie, when he remembered he hadn't said goodbye to the old man. He turned back to look at him.

"Go about your business, General, sir!" the old man said, giving a shaky salute.

Wang Zhong returned a serious and formal military salute before heading toward his subordinates tinkering with the walkie-talkie.

The old man leaned against the wooden gate of the small yard, watching Wang Zhong's figure disappear, murmuring softly: "What a gallant, young General. May Saint Andrew bless you."

----

At the same time, southwest of Loktov, Vasily showed Filippov a sign he had just written: "Take a look at this!"

Filippov stopped swinging his large hammer, leaning against the signpost he had just driven into the ground to rest, and said: "Don't make me look. I don't understand Prossenian writing."

"I wrote: There are no landmines here!"

Filippov frowned: "Will tricking people with words like this actually work? It feels like something kids would do to mess with someone!"

Vasily: "We'll plant a big detonator and explosives under this sign. Then the enemy will have to believe it. Come on, let's set it up over there. It'll pair nicely with the sign you just planted that says there's a minefield."

Filippov shook his head: "You, if the academy instructors found out, they'd scold you for only having petty tricks up your sleeve!"

"They'd also tell me, 'In a real war, these petty tricks are useless!'" Vasily mimicked the instructor's tone perfectly.

Filippov: "You know it, then."

"But look, the Brigadier General assigned me to do this. Doesn't he know I only have petty tricks? Of course he does. He's counting on me to use these little tricks to give the enemy a surprise!"

As they spoke, the two reached the spot. Vasily tossed the sign onto the ground and started digging a hole.

Filippov took out a detonator and explosives from his backpack: "How much should we use?"

"Use a whole block!"

"That much? This could blast someone all the way to the moon!"

"Hey, with these petty tricks, it's not about planting a lot-it's about making the explosion fierce. Best case, one blast is seen by all the Prossenian forces, and after that, they won't dare touch these signs! Just put a whole block in!"

Filippov placed an entire block of explosives into the hole and set up the triggering mechanism.

Since both of them could be assigned to command combat engineer squads, they had learned demolition and were quite skilled with this kind of work.

Finally, Filippov tied the triggering pull ring to the base of the signpost with wire: "Done!"

Vasily planted the sign into the hole and started filling it with dirt.

"Careful!" Filippov shouted, "This thing could send us to the moon too!"

Vasily didn't care at all. After filling the hole, he said: "Let's go find some tin cans or something to toss into the field behind us. That way, the enemy's mine detectors will start screeching!"

"I actually support that idea," Filippov said. "But where are we going to find tin cans?"

"Let's buy some from the locals. I've got rubles on me," Vasily said, suddenly sighing. "If we don't use them now, we might not get the chance later."

Filippov: "Will the locals still here even accept rubles?"

"If they don't, we'll just say we're from the Tribunal. Then they'll take them," Vasily said.

"But we're not wearing blue caps."

"That's easy. We'll hide our hats and say they got shot off by enemy bullets on the way here! Come on, Filippov, let's give the Prossenians a little surprise!"

End of Chapter