Cannon Fire Arc

On September 9, there were still sporadic battles within the city, mostly waged by Prosens in Balas Army uniforms who continued to resist.

The Balas defenders were all gone.

Those who had survived yesterday's battle all fell today on their own, for the food they ate yesterday had made them beyond rescue; they would have perished even if the Allied Forces did nothing.

The few with unusually strong constitutions who had not died took their own lives with the weapons in their hands, unable to endure the pain.

At 1100 hours, Wang Zhong entered the outer districts of Balas City in his 422 tank.

He had observed the dire state of the outer districts from an overhead perspective yesterday, but seeing it with his own eyes today was still a shock to him—apparently, an overhead view could greatly diminish the gory details.

It might be because looking down from above gives one a detached feeling, much like when playing real-time strategy games: even with plasma patches installed and the violence depicted in great detail, players wouldn't feel too affected.

However, seeing it from a first-person perspective was not the same, especially with the air filled with an extremely strong smell of burning flesh, which enhanced the realism of the scene all the more.

Wang Zhong heard the sound of vomiting from the radio headset—the position was originally meant for a mechanic, but the Anteans were now unable to appoint a mechanic for each tank, so it had been changed to a machine gunner solely responsible for operating the gun.

The gunner of the 422 tank was a new recruit, probably seeing such a scene for the first time. It was not surprising he vomited.

Still, unlike Wang Zhong, whose upper body was outside, other members of the tank crew began to complain, "Damn it, Alyosha, now the whole tank smells of your vomit."

"Sorry!"

"Once we stop later, hurry and fetch a bucket of water to rinse it off!"

"Yes! I will get it soon!"

Wang Zhong said, "Alright, don't be too harsh on the new recruit. This scene is too horrific; even I can't stand it. The tank won't move for now, Alyosha, go down, find a corpse that doesn't upset you too much, and pee on it. You'll probably stop being afraid after that."

The gunner asked in confusion, "Eh? Does that really work? I heard it only helps if it's an enemy you've killed yourself."

No, has this rumor spread this far already?

Wang Zhong thought, then realized that wasn't right—the Tank Destroyer Battalion from the 225th had come along, they would spread these rumors everywhere.

Oh no, from now on the 51st Army would likely pick up this habit—no, this tradition.

While Wang Zhong was thinking this, Alyosha climbed out of his position, only to confront an even more gruesome sight upon exiting, prompting him to start heaving again, with streaks of yellow-white substance trickling to the ground next to the tracks.

The acrid smell of stomach acid mixed with the stench of charred bodies, causing Wang Zhong to frown.

Wang Zhong asked, "It wasn't as intense through the periscope just now, was it?"

"Yes. General, how can you face this scene without changing your expression?"

Wang Zhong replied, "Because I've seen it before, many times. I've gotten used to it."

"That's amazing, sir, I wish to become like you," said the new recruit Alyosha. Alyosha was his nickname; he shared the same name as Wang Zhong, which was Aleksei, a common situation in Ante. Typically, to distinguish individuals in such cases, a patronymic was added.

However, this was not a problem in the 422 tank, because everyone simply referred to Wang Zhong as "General."
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Wang Zhong looked at the scene before him, shook his head, and said, "Alyosha, you don't need to feel guilty about vomiting at such a horrific sight. It's normal, and it's actually me, indifferent to the carnage, who is abnormal. We fight today so that our children can grow up as normal people.

"One day, my own son will see this scene and vomit uncontrollably, and I will loudly cheer for him because that is the meaning of my struggle."

Silence filled the internal tank communications line—no, the entire tank platoon was silent.

Wang Zhong then realized he had the radio on.

If this were peacetime, like when streamers doing live broadcasts forgot to turn off their mics and made a speech, it would certainly be suspected of being scripted.

But no one doubted it now; everyone listened quietly to Wang Zhong's words, even the Naval Infantry who had been resting beside them fell silent, pursing their lips as they watched Wang Zhong.

Wang Zhong said, "Alyosha, do what you need to do."

"Yes, General," replied Alyosha, jumping down from the tank to look for an enemy corpse that he found agreeable.

The gunner opened the side hatch of their T34W and also stuck his head out, immediately wrinkling his brow, "My God, it's true that it's different from what you see through the scope—truly terrifying."

Wang Zhong nodded.

At that moment, an elderly Balasian woman appeared next to the tank with an empty bowl in hand, shaking it while pleading for something.

Wang Zhong instructed, "Give her a piece of bread."

The gunner immediately took out some bread stored inside the tank, ready to throw it, so the old woman lifted her bowl high, even standing on her toes.

Clearly, she was very eager for the bread.

A Naval Infantryman next to them leaped onto the tank, took the bread from the gunner, placed it in the woman's bowl, and added his own ration as well.

Wang Zhong: "See, it is to save them that we launched the attack."

At this moment, Alyosha came running back, pulling up his pants and shouting loudly, "Hey! I found a Prosen dressed in Balas army uniform! Definitely a Prosen!"

Wang Zhong: "Great! Hurry up and come on board, we're about to enter the King's Castle."

————

The situation in the King's Castle was much better than outside. Residing within the King's Castle were not only His Majesty the King but also the nobles and tribal leaders from inside Balas City.

They had been waiting at the entrance of the King's Castle from early on.

It seemed the entrance gate was blown open by a 100mm shell, and the Whirlwind that had done the deed was parked on the street inside the gate, where tank operators were chatting with beautiful noble girls.

At the sound of engines and gearboxes, the tank operators immediately looked over and shivered when they saw the Red Flag behind vehicle 422, dropping the noble girls, straightening their attire, and standing at attention.

When vehicle 422 stopped in front of them, the commander shouted, "Good day, General! Salute to you!"

Wang Zhong: "Greetings to you, and to the valiant fighters among you. However, remember our military discipline, we do not allow hands to be laid on the local civilians' daughters."

Immediately, a noble girl said, "We volunteered, General!"

Wang Zhong: "No matter if you volunteered or not. Don't make mistakes, soldiers!"

But Wang Zhong always felt it was of little use, as the Anteans were too lax in this regard. He had often found this troubling during domestic campaigns, for when it was consensual, he could say little; he could only caution the local church's parish priest to take good care of any girl who became pregnant and try hard to remember who the father was.

Wang Zhong sighed and said to the driver, "Continue down the road, let's go see the King's palace."

Vehicle 422 started up again, moving along the road.

Soon, the palace appeared ahead.

It appeared that the King's palace had not been damaged much, even the pretty stained glass was mostly intact.

A large group of lavishly dressed courtiers were already waiting at the entrance to the palace.

As Wang Zhong's tank stopped, a long-bearded elder half-knelt before the tank: "Hail, Duke of Charon Ante!"

Wang Zhong: "Please rise."

He climbed out of the tank swiftly, glancing over at the Naval Infantry standing behind the courtiers.

Immediately, the leading Naval Infantry captain spoke: "All searched, no weapons, most have no military training, no callouses from handling guns on their hands."

Wang Zhong nodded, hopping off the tank: "Take me to the tallest point of the King's Castle, I want to see the city we have taken after a day and night of fierce fighting."

Actually, there was another reason Wang Zhong wanted to go to the highest point; it was September 9th, which was a Gregorian calendar date, but he wanted to climb high to commemorate his real homeland—after all, climbing high on the Double Ninth Festival was tradition.

Just as he finished speaking, the half-kneeling elder stood up and eagerly said in Antenese, "Please follow me, the watchtower is not far away."

About five minutes later, led by the elder, Wang Zhong ascended the watchtower of the King's Castle.

Indeed, this was the highest point of the entire King's Castle, even the rooftops of the palace were not as high as Wang Zhong's current position; the tiles were clearly visible.

Wang Zhong gazed out toward the south.

The main color of Balas Plateau was a mix of green and yellow, without the desolation of a solitary desert smoke or the abundance of a wind-swept grassland revealing cattle and sheep.

Peering down from this vantage point, Wang Zhong noticed a small group from the Balas Free Army Officers' Alliance, including Meyers, just stepping onto the watchtower; he maintained his lookout stance and asked, "Meyers, look at this plateau, what do you think?"

"Stunningly beautiful, General."

Wang Zhong smiled: "In the eyes of Balasians, their country is indeed different. Although I don't like this landscape, it reminds me of my homeland."

He patted a box at his waist: "Here, the black soil of my homeland is right here. One day I will fight my way back, no one can stop me."

Meyers didn't make a sound.

Wang Zhong continued: "You too must work hard to drive out all the colonists."

"I will," Meyers responded with conviction.

At that moment, Wang Zhong suddenly saw a cloud of dust to the south, as if a convoy was coming from the south.

He switched his viewpoint and saw that it was a convoy from the United Kingdom Army, consisting of Bren machine gun vehicles and Daimler armored cars, racing towards Balas City.

Wang Zhong switched back to his naked eye view, pointing to the dust in the south, he said to Meyers, "Look, the colonists are coming. But now they are Allied Forces. Our conflict with the Prosens outweighs our own, becoming the main conflict. Once the war is over, it won't take long for the old imperialists to show their true colors."

Meyers nodded vigorously: "Your teachings, I shall keep in mind. Before the war ends, we'll strive to learn and master the methods to fight them."

Wang Zhong: "Good, don't let Amelia know about this; she's gone to welcome the United Kingdom's convoy."

Meyers: "Of course, rest assured."