Arc of Fire

Jules Year 914, July 8th, 2315 hours.

All 914 members of Rocossov Combat Group were waiting on the platform of Lokhtov Train Station.

The Lokotov City Defense Battalion, temporarily attached to Rocossov Combat Group, volunteered to stay behind and continue participating in the defense of the city, so they weren’t included in the count. The Guardian Army, temporarily assigned to the combat group, was not part of the withdrawal either.

The Fifth Belyensk Regiment wanted to stay, but Wang Zhong refused them.

The 31st Regiment and the Armored Troops willingly obeyed the orders.

The 914 people on the platform were the sum total of the combat group’s infantry, artillery, armored troops, and logistics personnel.

Wang Zhong, patting his belly stuffed with potatoes and beef stew, looked at the few people remaining and sighed, “This is truly a Pyrrhic victory.”

Yegorov: “Who is Pyrrhus?”

Wang Zhong was taken aback; in a world without Rome, naturally there was no affair concerning Pyrrhus.

At that moment, Pavlov came out of the station dispatcher’s office with a stack of documents and walked up to the two men: “I’ve got the transportation plan, we’re being sent all the way to Argesukov.”

Wang Zhong: “That far? I thought they would place us behind the next line of defense for rest and reorganization, ready to defend again at any time.”

“There’s no second line of defense,” Pavlov said with grave seriousness, “The Front Army has decided to follow His Majesty’s orders and launch an offensive.”

Wang Zhong: “Have they gone mad?”

Because of the loud voice, all the soldiers around looked over.

Yegorov patted Wang Zhong on the shoulder: “Keep calm, my Lord Count. The good news is that this time we’ll be far from the front line. Even if the front collapses entirely, it’ll take the Prussians several days to reach us.”

Wang Zhong: “I can’t feel happy at all. So what about our reinforcements?”

Pavlov shook his head: “No mention.”

At this point, Popov came onto the platform from the freight exit of the train station, striding over to join the trio.

“The Church hasn’t sent any news either, no idea when God’s Arrow Company will be filled up,” the Bishop sighed. “We’re severely short of prayer warriors now, and we don’t have enough replacements for the Divine Arrow.”

Wang Zhong: “What about Brother Peter?”

After two days of fighting, Wang Zhong had grown quite fond of this “human ear radar” he had coincidentally acquired, finding it rather useful.

“Ah, that, we have plenty of Sound Array Masters, so he was reassigned to us. Here is the personnel transfer document; it’s standard to have a copy on file over there, right?” Popov said as he handed the document to “over there” Pavlov.

Pavlov frowned deeply: “The document is here, but where is the man?”

As Popov turned to look at the main entrance, just then Brother Peter entered with a furrowed brow.

Yegorov called out loudly: “Monk, why the furrowed brow?”

Brother Peter looked up: “Because there are too many noise sources like you!”

Then he approached Popov and protested directly: “I should stay on the front lines. They need me here!”

Popov: “Take it up with the Brigadier General.”

Brother Peter immediately turned towards Wang Zhong: “I should stay on…”

“I heard you,” Wang Zhong cut him off, “but I also need you. You will be more effective with me. Think about the past two days, how invaluable you were!”

Brother Peter pursed his lips.

At that moment, the sound of a train whistle came from afar. The switchman also came out of his cabin and began to operate the rail switching levers.

The switchman’s green lantern was very conspicuous in the night.

Soon, a train composed of flatcars and boxcars rolled into the station.

All the flatcars were empty, evidently included in the train to carry Rocossov Combat Group’s heavy cannons and T-34s, while the boxcars were filled with young faces.

Before the train had even come to a full stop, the young men inside the boxcars were already loudly asking, “Hey, how did the fight go?”

Just as Wang Zhong looked towards the boxcars, Vasily responded: “Superbly. You see those tank wrecks in the city? We’re the ones who knocked them out!”

The corpses of Prosen soldiers had been collected and buried by the Labor Camp and the Guardian Army, but the tank wrecks, like the craters in the streets, had yet to be handled for lack of personnel.

“Ha! That formidable, huh? We won’t be any worse off than you guys!” the confident young men on the train declared.

Vasily looked like he was about to retort, but he stopped mid-sentence. After a moment’s hesitation, he said: “I believe in you! Give the Prussians a taste of our strength!”

The soldiers of the 31st Guards Regiment, seeing that Vasily wasn’t scolded for speaking casually, joined in the shouting:

“Show them what for!”

“Let them see who the inferior race really is!”

Before the crossover, Wang Zhong was actually not that old, and the original owner of this body was also a young man. With his actual personality, he would normally join in boosting the morale of his comrades.

But strangely, now Wang Zhong only wanted to silently wish these youngsters well.

Suddenly, one of the young men who had just disembarked from the boxcars shouted: “Hey, look at that tank, tactical number 422! And there’s a white horse emblem on it!”

At those words, all the eager new recruits just arrived at the battlefield turned their gazes in one direction.

The ceremonial T-34 tank, number 422, was parked under the moonlight, like a massive beast lurking in the shadows.

Alexandria and Beliyakov, who had been smoking next to the tank, saw the commotion and immediately hid in the tank’s shadow.

“Really?”

“Could this be General White Horse’s chariot?”

“I heard the General’s combat group is right here!”

At that moment, Wang Zhong was standing under the protective cover of the platform, where the moonlight failed to reach him.

——Boosting morale is also a commander’s duty.

He wanted to step forward, but the instant before moving he remembered the scene from yesterday when numerous Guardian Army soldiers pulled him out from under the tank.

Today, he renounced those who had once saved him.

In the afternoon, under urgent circumstances, he hesitated for only a second before making his decision, and in the end, they did indeed hold back the enemy’s onslaught.

But now, just as he was about to step forward and inspire the soldiers, that same intense emotion seized him again.

——My troops and I are about to withdraw, and whatever Loktov turns into, a hellish inferno or not, will no longer concern us.

Do I still have the right to inspire the young men before me to step proudly into hell?

As Wang Zhong hesitated, he suddenly remembered a poem by a marshal.

He was very fond of this poem; it was actually the marshal’s dying verse in a hopeless situation, yet it was filled with a fearless spirit.

“I call forth my old comrades to the spring platform, our banners ten thousand strong, to slay the king of hell!”

That marshal must have also made many decisions that led soldiers to their gallant deaths.

But he would never hesitate, for he was braver than everyone, and if the time came, he too would march to his death without a second thought.

I can be braver than everyone else!

No, I must be braver than everyone else, so I can issue the orders for them to die without regret, so I can make the cruel decision to abandon them without guilt, and then righteously declare “The merciful are not fit to lead armies!”

With this resolve, Wang Zhong stepped forward into the moonlight.

He did not introduce himself, and in the darkness, no one could see his face or insignia clearly.

Just standing there, he exuded an air of authority and fearlessness.

“Soldiers!” he said.

Even though no command was given, the recruits stood to attention, their heels clicking together.

Wang Zhong: “I won’t sugarcoat our situation. Look to my right; this is my combat group. Now, including our logistical personnel, we number only 914!

“The Fifth Belsensk Regiment under my command joined with more than a full regiment’s strength but was reduced to just over 300 men. And now, only 81 men stand here!

“Their regimental commander is now a second lieutenant!

“I will tell you clearly, what lies ahead is hell! Staying here means facing hell! Does anyone want to back out?”

Wang Zhong scanned the entire platform.

Not just the newly arrived soldiers were looking at him, but also the railway workers and train drivers stood at their posts, watching him.

No one expressed a desire to quit.

Wang Zhong: “Why? Answer me, why do you step into hell?”

Suddenly someone shouted, “For the Tsar!”

Wang Zhong: “No!”

Pavlov was shocked and stared at Wang Zhong with wide eyes.

Then someone yelled, “For the Eastern Holy Church!”

“Wrong too!” Wang Zhong replied without hesitation.

Popov was shocked and stared at Wang Zhong with wide eyes.

Wang Zhong scanned everyone again.

Vasily suddenly said, “For Ante’s mother!”

Wang Zhong pointed at Vasily: “Right! But that’s too abstract!”

Wang Zhong paced the platform with hands behind his back: “What is Ante’s mother? Think about it, think of something concrete!

“Ante’s mother is the squirrels frolicking in the birch forests,

“the fish swimming freely in the Dnieper River,

“the wheat waves on the black earth!”

After listing these examples, Wang Zhong felt it was still not quite enough, so he added two more:

“The bright songs of maidens,

“and the beef stew with potatoes served by grandmothers!”

No sooner had he spoken than someone let out a loud burp.

Then several people couldn’t help but laugh, especially Vasily.

Wang Zhong himself also felt awkward, having run out of things to say; moreover, the beef stew with potatoes truly smelled delicious.

Delicious!

“We march to our deaths to guard all that is beautiful and good!”

He thought again, but indeed he had run out of words, so he decided to borrow some.

He continued:

“If we do not fight, the enemy will kill us with their bayonets and point to our bones saying, ‘Look, here lies a slave!’”

Those words, like a bomb, instantly filled every face with anger.

Vasily shouted the word that could be used in any moment that required a boost of morale or to express passion: “Hurrah!”

Everyone yelled together: “Hurrah!”

“Hurrah!”

The shouts rose wave upon wave.

At that moment, the recruits’ battalion commander shouted, “Right turn! Quick march!”

The new soldiers marched out of the train station in neat formation.

Popov stepped forward next to Wang Zhong: “Next time, could you please not steal my job?”

Wang Zhong: “Which son of a bitch told me that boosting morale was the commander’s job?”

At that moment, the stationmaster came over, “Hurry and load your equipment onto the train. We’re departing now. If we leave before dawn, we can still get out of the enemy planes’ range.”

Wang Zhong turned back and ordered, “Board the train!”