Arc of Fire

Wang Zhong’s return flight didn’t head to Yeburg, but flew straight to Abawahan.

The Antenese heroes who had gone with him to the Federation didn’t return with him, as selling bonds for the Federation was an important task, tied to how much aid Ante could receive.

On the C47 transport aircraft, besides Wang Zhong and Yakov, there was also a Ceres chef accompanied by ten helpers.

Mr. Zhang was very trustworthy, and the chef, being stout and robust, seemed very skilled in cooking.

The helpers, however, looked like members from a gang.

Also, there was the previous translator, who now sat in the airplane looking somewhat uneasy.

Wang Zhong comforted him, "I’ve already become the Front Army Commander, and generally, few die at the Front Army Headquarters."

The translator responded awkwardly, "I see, thank you for your comfort."

Wang Zhong, "What should I call you?"

Wang Zhong, "Nikolai, if there’s time later, I hope you can teach me Ceres language, because I’d like to further study Ceres’s culture."

Nikolai looked at Wang Zhong with a face of disbelief and said, "Honestly, I’ve only heard of my compatriots learning foreign languages—about your country, to see the world. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone like you."

Wang Zhong thought to himself, don’t rush; if you can live to be 120 years old, then you’ll witness foreign scholars rushing towards Ceres from Shanhaiguan.

Nikolai continued, "Of course, I will definitely teach you Ceres language if you want to learn. But I’m not a professional; I’m afraid I might not teach well."

Wang Zhong patted his shoulder, "Don’t worry about that."

You just teach, I’m only worried I might learn too fast and scare you.

At that moment, Wang Zhong suddenly felt the airplane tilting.

Due to the rapid decrease in altitude, his ears felt strange.

He immediately asked loudly, "Why descend so quickly?"

But because of the noise inside the plane, the cockpit in front did not hear him. So he stood up, strode through the cabin to the door connecting the cockpit to the passenger area, and forcefully raised the cockpit’s back panel.

"Why are we descending?" he shouted loudly.

The pilot glanced back at him, still looking confused.

Wang Zhong was about to shout again when he suddenly saw headphones and a microphone hanging on the back panel, apparently connected to the intercom. He put on the headphones and, holding the microphone, asked loudly, "Why are we suddenly descending?"

This time, the captain heard clearly and immediately replied, "The radio reports enemy aircraft! We’re descending below the clouds and will fly super low above the ground, using it as cover. I suggest you quickly put on a parachute and life vest. We might have to land in the Inland Sea!"

Although the pilot was specifically selected for this mission due to his fluency in Antenese, his nervousness caused him to misspeak several times.

Wang Zhong stretched his neck and through the cockpit glass, he glanced at the Inland Sea on the left side of the aircraft.

"Damn it," he exclaimed, "How did Prosen’s aircraft get here?"

The captain, "We’re heading south along the coastline of the Inland Sea, already very close to the front line." Your next read awaits at

Wang Zhong, "How far are we from the airport?"

The co-pilot, looking at the map, said, "About an hour more to go. This is the fastest speed we can manage."

Wang Zhong, "Thank you."

He was just about to turn back when he heard an ominous noise.

He immediately switched to the overview perspective, just in time to see a Prosen twin-engine fighter diving down.

Great, using a twin-engine heavy fighter to intercept a high-ranking enemy officer in the air—this scene feels so familiar!

Just as Wang Zhong thought this, Amelia’s fighter jet flashed past, and Prosen’s heavy fighter’s wing was severed mid-air along with its engine.

Losing its counterweight, the fuselage began spinning, the Prosen pilot desperately pressed the firing button, the nose guns began indiscriminately spraying tracer bullets around.

At that instant, a Prosen heavy bomber breached the bottom of the clouds. Six engines on the bomber, two of which were on fire, but still maintaining flight momentarily, though the speed was steadily decreasing, and it continued to descend.

As the bomber was highlighted by Wang Zhong, it was now less than two and a half kilometers from the C47.

The next moment, Wang Zhong clearly saw all the bomber’s defensive firepower aimed at the C47. So many defensive turrets turning in the same direction was quite a shock—it was like seeing an airborne battleship ready to concentrate fire.

Then a barrage of tracer bullets rained down on the C47.

From such a distance, and considering it was a moving target, the shots shouldn’t have hit, but the enemy’s volume of fire was too dense.

Every turret that could be aimed at them had turned, the barrage dense like the anti-aircraft barrages of the Federation’s battleships.

And the enemy was to the left side of the C47!

The first bullet pierced through the C47’s cabin. Wang Zhong only had time to switch back to the cabin’s internal view as the bullet passed through and exited, leaving only a whizzing sound.

One of the helpers touched his head, "Damn mother, that almost killed me (in Cantonese)."

No sooner had he spoken than a second bullet hole appeared on the cabin’s left side, hitting the temple of the helper in front. The bullet, having traveled far, lacked penetrating power, so the hole wasn’t big and the bullet remained lodged in his brain, not passing through to the other side.

The worker slumped to the right side, leaning on the chef.

The chef yelled, "A’Gui! A’Gui!"

Although they were speaking Cantonese, Wang Zhong understood everything. He was about to speak when an explosion’s flash lit up outside the left porthole.

He quickly changed his viewpoint and saw the enemy plane’s engine that had been spewing tracer bullets finally explode, severing the wing. The huge aircraft broke apart instantly and fell towards the sea of the Inland Sea.

The crew members jumped out of the aircraft in succession.

Since it was at a low altitude, the burning wreckage quickly made contact with the sea surface, splashing up huge waves.

Amelia’s fighter plane came alongside the C47, and Wang Zhong heard the girl’s voice over the radio in his headphones, "These are bombers and their long-range heavy fighters escorting them. It seems we’ve bumped right into them.

"I just saw the MiG-3 entangled with the enemy at high altitude; we should be able to escape soon."

Wang Zhong responded, "Please keep watch, and how come you are the only escort plane left?"

Amelia said irritably, "In an aerial battle, fighters scatter; it’s normal to lose track of each other."

After all, this wasn’t a game; the aircraft’s avionics weren’t advanced, which Wang Zhong could understand.

Wang Zhong stuck his head back into the cockpit and patted the captain’s shoulder, "Call the airport, tell them we are arriving soon, don’t let our own anti-aircraft fire shoot us down!"

"Okay!" the co-pilot answered and began calling in shaky Antenese, "Abawahan, Abawahan, this is Orient Express, Number One is on my plane, be careful not to shoot us by mistake! Number One is on my plane, be careful not to shoot us by mistake!"

No sooner had they made the call than the ground forces began shooting anti-aircraft artillery into the air.

Wang Zhong grabbed the co-pilot’s microphone and yelled, "Idiots! You’re firing at your own forces! Idiots!"

He had only shouted once when the aircraft violently jolted.

Amelia’s voice came through the headset, "Orient Express! I see your left engine smoking! Please cut off the left engine’s fuel line!"

At that moment, it seemed the ground forces realized their mistake, and the artillery fire ceased.

Wang Zhong rushed to the left porthole and watched the flames on the engine.

Then he heard someone blowing air next to him and turned to see Yakov panting as he blew on the porthole glass as though he could extinguish the flames on the engine outside.

When Wang Zhong turned back, he indeed saw the flames had gone out!

The engine smoked blackly, and the propeller had stopped, but it wasn’t on fire anymore! Fortunately, the anti-aircraft shell had only hit the engine without destroying the fuel control system!

Shit, had the frontline become this perilous? They really welcomed me with quite the scare!

Wang Zhong was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when the pilot’s voice transmitted through the intercom inside the plane, "We have to make an emergency landing! Everyone, brace yourselves! It’s best to put on steel helmets! If you’re afraid of pain, you might prefer jumping out! That would kill you quicker!"

Wang Zhong looked outside the airplane, indeed the altitude was now at a level where parachuting could lead to a quicker death.

He could only take off his headset, return to his seat, fasten his seatbelt, put on his helmet, and adopting the crash-landing posture he had learned about before flying, curled up his body.

Yakov’s voice reached Wang Zhong’s ears, "What are you doing? Are you uncomfortable?"

Wang Zhong replied, "No, this is a protective posture. It can help you survive a plane crash! You’d better do the same."

Yakov asked, "Can you really survive a plane crash?"

Wang Zhong affirmed, "Yes, and we’re making an emergency landing, so our chances of survival are high!"

Actually, Wang Zhong wasn’t sure himself; a part of him was already wailing inside: Could his journey really end here?

That would be too much to bear!

Unwilling to accept this, he switched to a bird’s-eye view, watching the plane rush towards the shallow beach, hmm, this crash site with its water cushioning and resistance to fire and explosion seemed to significantly increase the survival rate!

From the bird’s-eye view, the moment the plane touched the water, Wang Zhong felt an intense shudder.

The seatbelt nearly squeezed out his dinner from last night!

The shaking gradually lessened as the plane slowed to a stop in the bird’s-eye view.

When all the shaking had completely stopped, Wang Zhong exhaled deeply, unfastened the seatbelt that had nearly strangled him, and shouted out the classic line from the science fiction novel "Starship Troopers": "We’re on the ground! Sir!"

Everyone looked at him skeptically.

Wang Zhong then remembered that he was that damn Sir.

So, he said, "Quickly, get out of the plane! The cabin door might be jammed due to deformation; several people should help open it!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the burly Ceres chef stood up and rammed the door, sending it flying.

Wang Zhong gave a thumbs up, "KUNG FU! Good!"

Wait a minute, with this chef’s figure, could his name be Chen Guohan?

Was that a Green Rush?

Yakov interrupted Wang Zhong’s thoughts, "Quick, get out of the plane! General!"

"Got it, got it!" Wang Zhong got up, rushed out the cabin door, and landed in shallow water.

The wind blew against his face, carrying with it the scent of war.

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