Arc of Fire

Prussian Army on this side.

While heading back to his own division headquarters, Kluge suddenly saw a fire in the distance.

He was almost asleep when the sight of the blaze startled him awake, driving away all drowsiness.

“Stop!” he shouted, and the driver slammed on the brakes, bringing the barrel car to a halt on the rough dirt road.

Kluge stood up in his seat—that was possible in this kind of open-top barrel car.

However, it was too dark; even standing up, he could only discern three civilian houses ablaze, unable to see any specific details.

So Kluge called out to the Prussian soldiers gathered by the roadside smoking, “Which unit are you from?”

The soldier glanced at Kluge, and probably because he didn’t see a red collar patch, didn’t pay much attention and answered perfunctorily, “We’re from the 16th Division, getting ready to join the Crusader Knights!”

“Not Crusaders.” Another soldier, a sergeant sporting a senior exemption armband, corrected, “It’s the Asgard Knights, something new His Majesty has come up with.”

“Up front… Who are you?” The speaking soldier checked Kluge’s rank again, then realizing he had never seen such a rank, said, “Spying on military secrets? Be careful or I’ll report you to the military police!”

Kluge pulled out his identification and unfolded it for the soldiers to see.

A few soldiers crowded around, one of them took out a flashlight and turned it on, and the next moment everyone snapped to attention as if electrocuted, straightening their backs: “General, sir!”

Kluge: “What happened up front?”

“Reporting, general, my unit had just entered the village ahead when suddenly the enemy’s artillery fire came in. The supply train that entered the village ahead of us had just set up an oil depot, and it got hit!”

Kluge frowned, “All your fuel’s gone?”

“No, the supply trucks hadn’t finished unloading everything, and they ran out after the shelling. Only the oil tanks that were moved into the depot got hit.”

Kluge cursed and muttered to himself, “Looks like facing this White Horse General, we can’t enter villages, we have to stay in the fields even with houses around. Damn it, isn’t he worried about killing his own people?”

Kluge shook his head, “Truly a cold-hearted bastard!”

At 0430 hours, Wang Zhong led a small group of riders out of Orachi.

His idea was simple: to use his special trait of having enemies highlighted in his field of vision to scout ahead before the enemy’s main force moved.

He brought along Vasily and the only field telephone in the whole division, ready to call in an artillery strike in clear language if necessary— it didn’t matter if the enemy heard, the point was to create a deterrent; how many enemies it killed wasn’t important.

No sooner had the cavalry left Orachi than they encountered God’s Arrow Company on the move in vehicles.

Ekaterina Andropolovna was leaning over the rear guard of the truck vomiting when she saw Wang Zhong riding a white horse coming from afar, quickly straightening up and wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

Wang Zhong: “Do you get car sick?”

“Yeah, so what?” Ekaterina lifted her eyebrows challengingly.

Her demeanor made Wang Zhong want to flick her forehead with his finger.

Suppressing the urge, Wang Zhong said, “Are you okay? Today you’re very important, if we can successfully deter the enemy pilots, we can greatly reduce our losses.” ᚱ

“Hmph, I’ll guarantee that every Divine Arrow I guide will hit its target!”

Wang Zhong: “That’s good to hear.”

After he spoke, he nudged his horse and sped up Bucephalus. He was in a hurry to scout for enemy intelligence. It would be too dangerous to do so once the enemy was deployed and ready to attack, perhaps even chased by enemy motorcycles.

Motorcycles with sidecars always had machine guns, and Wang Zhong did not want to test the firing skills of enemy gunners.

Then, Ekaterina’s voice came from behind, “You’re just leaving?”

Yes, what else?

Wang Zhong looked back without stopping and began to trot along with the cavaliers.

Wang Zhong bypassed the first ambush position and was about to continue forward when he saw several of his soldiers by the road urinating on the corpses of Prussian soldiers.

“What the hell are you doing? Which unit are you from?” Wang Zhong pulled the reins tight, making Bucephalus come to an abrupt halt, and questioned them.

The men, without even the time to pull up their trousers, quickly snapped to attention and saluted.

Wang Zhong frowned, “What’s wrong with you? Pull up your pants first! You lot are so loose and undisciplined, where’s the chaplain? Go and call over the chaplain from the 2nd Battalion!”

Immediately a guard rode his horse towards the first ambush position.

The soldiers pulled up their pants, their faces showing the look of impending doom, it seemed their battalion’s chaplain was rather strict.

Wang Zhong didn’t dwell on it, asking, “What were you just doing?”

Soldier: “Collecting the enemy’s weapons!”

“Then why didn’t you pull up your pants?”

“Needed to pee urgently!”

“Desperately needed to pee on the enemy?”

“To express our hatred for the enemy!”

“Right, we were night-attacked yesterday, and several of our brothers died!”

Wang Zhong was shocked, and just then the battalion’s military chaplain arrived, coming to Wang Zhong and saluting, “General! I will enforce strict discipline!”

“Good. I leave it to you.”

Having said that, he turned his horse around and continued to move north.

The escort galloped to catch up, smiling at the three soldiers they passed.

As Vasily passed by, he joked, “Looks like someone’s off to shovel manure!”

After this brief interlude, Wang Zhong hurried to the edge of the northern forest, stopped beneath a birch tree, and raised his binoculars.

The enemy seemed to have no intention of attacking; Wang Zhong could only see scattered lookouts on the plains, hidden in foxholes.

Advancing further would risk detection by the lookouts, so he could only strain his eyes from this vantage point, barely making out a few Prosen tanks at the edge of his vision.

How very strange.

Wang Zhong had left at 4:30, and it was now 5:30, with the day already brightened, yet the enemy showed no signs of organizing an offensive.

He had expected to find enemy tanks amassing for an attack when he reached the point where he could not go any further without alerting the lookouts, and then he would be able to call in artillery fire.

But there were no enemies in sight; the Prussians seemed to be sleeping in.

Or could it be that last night’s surprise raid had thrown the enemy into disarray?

In terms gamers would understand, was it possible that last night’s bombardment had reset the enemy’s organization level? Were they regrouping this morning?

Wang Zhong peered into the distance, and it seemed he could see smoke in the direction of the distant villages, perhaps fires caused by last night’s shelling that had only just been extinguished.

Was artillery fire really that effective? If so, during defensive battles they should get into the habit of disrupting the enemy’s sleep with midnight bombardments.

Lost in thought, Wang Zhong didn’t notice Vasily, carrying the wireless, who then speculated, “Aren’t Prussians known for their discipline? My father’s friend said they wake up at four in the morning to study. The libraries at Prosen universities are bustling by then!”

Wang Zhong glanced at Vasily, “What’s the name of your father’s friend? I’ll have the Tribunal pay him a visit.”

“Oh, he was arrested by the Tribunal last year for espionage.”

Good riddance, how satisfying!

Unaware of Wang Zhong’s response, Vasily continued to stare at the empty field, saying, “Looks like the Prussians aren’t as diligent as he said. Of course, it might also be that firing 203mm shells into their villages last night had an effect. What do you think, General?”

“I think my 203mm did the trick.”

“I agree. How about another round then?”

Wang Zhong shook his head, “No, I see a few Panzer IIIs over there, and though they’re just IIIs, we have plenty of shells, and even a mosquito’s leg is meat. Let’s hit them. Give me the handmic for the wireless. Set the frequency!”

Before heading out this morning, Wang Zhong had pulled a tank equipped with radio from the 5th Tank Army, which served as a divisional reserve, and sent it to the artillery.

Thanks to the tank’s wireless, he could finally establish radio communication with the artillery.

Vasily immediately tuned to the correct frequency, called twice, received a response, and handed the handmic to Wang Zhong, “Ready!”

Wang Zhong took the handmic, “White Horse calling Rhino, White Horse calling Rhino.”

“Rhino here, loud and clear.”

“Fire at the following coordinates, repeat, fire at the following coordinates—”

“White Horse, Rhino received, over.”

Wang Zhong handed the handmic back to Vasily and observed the tanks once more.

Only then did he realize no one was inside those tanks! The tank operators only now came into Wang Zhong’s field of vision, picking their teeth while moving towards the tanks.

No wonder there was no sign of activity; Wang Zhong had thought they were out of range, seeing the tanks but not the tank operators inside them, but they were actually unmanned.

Suddenly, a Prussian officer appeared and shouted something at the tank operators.

The previously relaxed tank operators hurried onto the tanks and started cranking the hand starters—it seems cars and tanks back then also needed to be hand-cranked to start, unlike in later times where a simple turn of a key would suffice with an electric starter.

Just as a few Prussian tank operators had cranked up their tanks, the shells fell.

A single volley of fire and the resulting explosions enveloped the tanks in a massive cloud of dust.

Wang Zhong watched the engulfed enemy and laughed heartily.

It was then that the roar of engines filled the sky.

Wang Zhong immediately raised his gaze, and without much effort, located the enemy aircraft.

This time it was a group of bombers, judging by their flight path and altitude, they were definitely heading for Orachi.

As the planes flew over his head, Wang Zhong sincerely hoped the field laundry and cooking units, along with other logistical personnel in Orachi, would remain safe and unharmed.

At the headquarters of the Asgard Knights’ Armored Division, Kluge was outlining his battle plans to the Commander of the 16th Armored Division:

“We’ll deploy northwest of Orachi, and your division should deploy west of mine and maneuver to the west side of Orachi.

“According to the map, there is a Hill 153 here, which we predict is occupied by enemy heavy forces. Your division does not need to take the hill, just position your IIIs and IVs outside the effective range of the enemy’s anti-tank guns and suppress them.

“You have a good number of Panzer Is and IIs which can maneuver quickly; they can cut across to seize the highway and block the enemy’s supplies.

“We suspect the enemy artillery is in these forests. Once your Panzer I and II units seize the highway, your division’s motorcycle reconnaissance battalion should advance decisively to scout these woods and be ready to call your divisional artillery to strike.”

After explaining, Kluge looked up at the Commander of the 16th Armored Division.

The Commander of the 16th Armored Division was a bona fide Wehrmacht general, bearing the red collar tabs of general officers, who haughtily questioned, “And what mission is the illustrious Asgard Knights carrying out?”

Kluge: “We will launch the main attack at the front. To draw the attention of Rocossov—the ‘White Horse General.'”

No sooner had he finished speaking than an explosion sounded outside.

The Commander of the 16th Armored Division was alarmed: “What’s happening? Is the enemy counterattacking?”

“Stay calm,” Kluge said through clenched teeth, “Our adversary enjoys these sniper and artillery sneak attacks. They don’t cause much damage, but they’re infuriating. Today, he will taste our might!”