Arc of Fire

“`

And after deploying smoke, we might be able to launch another bayonet charge.

Having made up his mind, Wang Zhong ordered, “Deploy the smoke, and once you’ve thrown all you have, search the enemy’s bodies for more. Fill the entire village with smoke! Quick!”

The non-commissioned officer saluted and turned to carry out the order.

Wang Zhong took a deep breath, uncertain if this method was reliable, but at least it was a plan. Just having a plan made him feel much more at ease.

He touched the pocket where he kept the gunner’s letter and whispered, “Argesukov, 43 Krugen Street, Alexeyevna.”

Of course, Wang Zhong didn’t know this place, and he had never been to Argesukov. He heard it was the capital of a region in the Ante Empire, and now the entire Front Army headquarters was situated there.

However, he wasn’t sure if he would ever make it to Argesukov.

This might well be his last moments since his arrival in this world. Given the Prussians’ brutality, he probably wouldn’t survive.

He rallied his spirit, “Driver, floor the accelerator!”

Now, it was time to see if they could intimidate those Prussians.

If all else failed, they could use the smoke cover to charge directly into the enemy.

"My tank is the final shell,” Wang Zhong thought to himself, feeling nothing amiss, as if he could hardly remember the original goal of preserving his life.

———-

Major Shrifen eyed the vast amount of smoke rising from Upper Peniye Village, his eyebrows twisted like pretzels.

The chief of staff put down his binoculars and said with tense expression, “The enemy likes to use smoke then charge with bayonets! It’s what they did before!”

Major Franz, the commander of the 351st Regiment, said, “Our forces are not afraid of close combat.”

"No, Major,” the battle group’s chief of staff turned to Franz, “If the enemy dares to charge with bayonets under these conditions, they must have committed their reserves. We’ve already lost half our tanks and suffered heavy infantry casualties. Continuing to fight the enemy’s reserves is not in our favor!”

Major Shrifen clicked his tongue, “The enemy… they still have reserves? We haven’t encountered any defensive forces with reserves so far in our advance. Also, this village isn’t of any strategic importance, is it? Would they really station so many troops here?”

The chief of staff replied, “Here we have the Divine Arrow units and an ace tank crew! That tank crew has already destroyed eight of our tanks!”

Major Shrifen pursed his lips, while Major Franz looked at him with an expression of “It’s your call,” making Shrifen feel like the old Junker noble was just waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Finally, Major Shrifen glanced at the sun and said, “If we continue to fight, it’ll turn into a night battle. Night battles favor the defenders who are familiar with the terrain. Let’s retreat. Order the mortar units to deploy smoke to cover our withdrawal.”

———-

Wang Zhong watched the retreating enemy with confusion, wondering what it meant. Were they really scared off by the sound of engines?

Impossible, right?

There must be some other factor, perhaps their King had also ordered to halt the advance and regroup?

But even if that were true, what did it have to do with Upper Peniye, this insignificant place?

Regardless, the enemy was retreating.

The soldiers transitioned from initial bewilderment to elation. This time, there were no cries of “Ura!” but rather cheers of celebration for those who had survived against the odds.

Sofan, in the tank, didn’t know what was happening outside and asked blankly, “What’s going on? Why the cheering? What happened? Did we get reinforcements?”

"No, the enemy is retreating,” Wang Zhong replied softly.

———-

Thirty minutes later, dusk began to descend.

Wang Zhong stood beside the village’s central church, looking at the bodies being dragged out of the tank.

The only surviving driver was also wounded, with a large shrapnel lodged in his back, so he was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.

Now, only Wang Zhong, the temporary tank commander, was there to see them off.

More bodies were moved out, taken to the church. In the two battles that day, at least two hundred had fallen, with countless others wounded.

Yegorov came to stand by Wang Zhong, glanced at the tank operators on the ground, and said nothing.

Wang Zhong took the initiative, “Report the situation.”

"Currently, excluding the wounded, we only have one hundred and five uninjured combatants left, adding you—we have a total of four hundred people capable of fighting,” Yegorov reported.

Wang Zhong asked, “Is that all that’s left of a regiment?”

Yegorov replied, “Yes. It’s a regiment plus a tank battalion. I’m running out of experienced non-commissioned officers, and it’s about time we disband the unit structure. As for this tank battalion from the Fourth Tank Army, it’s been completely wiped out.”

Yegorov stressed the words “completely wiped out.”

Wang Zhong asked, “What do you mean?”

"The tank battalion of the Fourth Tank Army was ordered to hold Upper Peniye for 36 hours. Now, they’ve sacrificed all their tanks for that order,” Yegorov looked at Wang Zhong, “My Lord Count, let us retreat. Troops that have gone through such fierce battles, whether they are reinforcements or reorganized, are a valuable force. Even for the sake of the Empire, we should retreat.”

Wang Zhong: “Then all these sacrifices, all these comrades, would they have died in vain?”

"We’ve delayed the enemy for at least twenty-four hours. They were supposed to be camping in this village tonight, expecting the local girls to keep them warm! We have already…”

Yegorov couldn’t continue.

What would happen to the people left in the village if they retreated, the fate of Granny Ilynichna’s family had already shown that.

But Wang Zhong cared about more than just that.