Arc of Fire

The Abawahan Front Army’s new Headquarters was set up in a maintenance well on the side of the cross-river tunnel.

The cross-river tunnel itself had already become an important transportation channel for the Front Army, with vehicles shuttling back and forth almost day and night. Just opening the door from the maintenance well to the main tunnel, one could hear the endless sound of car engines.

Wang Zhong was initially concerned that the tunnel maintenance well might be stuffy, but upon entering, he discovered that it also served as a ventilation shaft, providing excellent air circulation. Your journey continues on

He even felt a bit cold.

But with so many people gathered in a confined space, maintaining ventilation was essential to avoid danger.

As soon as Wang Zhong entered the Headquarters, his guard Grigori said, "I’m going to check the defenses of the Headquarters."

Having said that, the Sergeant grabbed a passing clerk, "Show me the blueprint of the tunnels. I need to know every exit."

Wang Zhong, "If the enemy has reached here, then Abawahan is nearly lost, at least on this side of the river. It shouldn’t come to that."

"Better safe than sorry, my general," Grigori said, saluting Wang Zhong. "This is my duty, just as your duty is to lead us to victory."

After sending Grigori off, Wang Zhong said to Yakov, "This place is too cold. Go to my quarters and bring me my thickest coat over."

Yakov, "Your clothes have already been delivered to the rest area. I’ll fetch them."

With those words, he darted through a narrow side door, running down the passage.

Wang Zhong turned to Pavlov, "How long will it take to complete the transfer of the Headquarters? I mean, how long until the Headquarters’ functions are restored?"

"Operations have already resumed. Due to the limited space here, we can only accommodate some of the staff officers and clerks. I’ve requested those who have undergone combat training to stay, and the others have been sent to the East Bank, maintaining the entire Headquarters’ operations via telephone lines."

Wang Zhong nodded, "Good, that’s very good. Send all untrained civilians in the city to the East Bank as well."

"I started doing this as soon as I arrived here, but many refused to go to the East Bank. They want to keep production going in the city. Currently, Abawahan can produce several hundred Papashas a day, ten T34s."

Wang Zhong, "A production rate of 300 units a month? Is it that high?"

Pavlov, "This is the production achieved even now, with difficulties in raw material supply. The local Church found a way to keep the factories supplied. I don’t know where they got so much steel and non-ferrous metal from, probably from the local residents."

Wang Zhong exclaimed, "The people, with such people, we will certainly prevail."

"Yes."

Wang Zhong, "But ensure that women and children are moved out of the city. You must persuade them…"

Popov, "That’s my task. In fact, I have already done my best to persuade the women and children. But most of the city’s women have joined the Labor Camp, currently building defenses throughout the city, constructing tank barricades. Their children also refuse to leave, helping bury mines, directing traffic, and doing whatever transport work they can handle."

"Nonsense, get the children out! If you can’t, it’s your dereliction of duty!" Wang Zhong raised his voice, glaring at Popov.

Popov, "I will handle this matter."

He quickly left the Headquarters.

Yakov just came in with the coat, looking at Popov’s departure he asked in confusion, "What happened? The Military Bishop looked very serious."

Pavlov, "His Excellency the Commander has given him a difficult task, convincing children to leave their mothers—and possibly all their families."

Wang Zhong, "It is his duty, his duty, understand?"

Yakov, "Alright, here’s your coat."

Wang Zhong put on his coat, releasing a sigh of relief. He approached the map on the wall, watching the staff officers update the status of the various divisions within the city.

Pavlov, "Every division, as per your orders, has split into countless combat groups, hiding in buildings and ruins. They will inflict as much damage as possible on the enemy until they fall in battle."

Wang Zhong nodded.

Pavlov, "This is just trading lives, nothing of strategy or tactics to speak of."

Wang Zhong, "But it can bring us victory."

Just then, a staff officer ran over, "Report from Beachhead Position One, the enemy has begun to commit the Moravian subordinate army."

Wang Zhong, "Really? How many subordinate armies have been committed? How many unit numbers appeared?"

"Two Army Group’s numbers," replied the staff officer.

Wang Zhong’s eyes widened with joy, "Great! That’s wonderful! The subordinate army is weak in combat and still requires supplies. Two Army Groups, that’s how many extra mouths to feed; this will become the final straw to break the enemy’s back. As long as we can withstand the enemy’s final offensive, we will win!"

Pavlov looked at the map solemnly, "Withstand the final offensive…"

In Prosen, at the Sixth Army Group Headquarters, General Frederick pointed at the map, "We have advanced into the districts of Abawahan, once we move the artillery positions forward, our guns could even strike at Rocossov’s Headquarters."

"And your army will be directly engaged in the assault on the urban districts."

He looked at the face of the thirtieth infantry corps commander who had arrived with the Moravians.

The thirtieth infantry corps commander stood tall with pride, "Leave it to me, my army is equipped with a substantial number of self-propelled infantry howitzers called ’Bison,’ which can be effective in urban environments. We will destroy the enemy-held buildings with precise, high-powered gunfire."

General Frederick said, "Very well. I will send the Asgard Sixth Armored Grenadier Division to assist you. This division has yet to be committed to battle, and not only does it have elite armored grenadiers within its ranks but also an armored battalion!

"These tanks have been specially armored for urban combat, with added plating to protect against enemy incendiary bottles."

The thirtieth infantry corps commander saluted, "Thank you for your trust, General. We will complete the mission and take the port within three days!"

"Three days?" General Frederick shook his head, "Three days is too slow, my general, three days is too slow. The longer we delay, the stronger the Anteans become, just like last year! I want you to reach the port in one day, do not delay!"

The corps commander looked troubled, "But this is urban warfare, and all the buildings are reinforced concrete. Based on our experience in the Capital of Melania, such cities are not easily attacked."

General Frederick sighed, "Being realistic is a fine quality of Prosens soldiers, you’re right. Let it be three days then, but after three days, I want to see the waves of the Inland Sea."

At this point, General Frederick’s deputy officer reminded him, "The Inland Sea, being inside land, is mostly calm."

"I know, damn it, I know. It’s just a metaphor!" General Frederick said, irritated.

----

Nameless Highlands.

Yegorov came out of the division headquarters and climbed up the highlands, observing the direction of the city through binoculars.

"The city is burning," his deputy officer said.

Yegorov answered, "Yes, although we have held our position, the enemy has broken through other units and entered the city."

He turned the binoculars toward the Train Dispatch Yard, "The condition over there is unknown, communications with the Sixteenth Army Group have been cut off since this morning’s bombardment."

The deputy officer mentioned, "This afternoon, the enemy conducted a rapid-fire attack toward the Train Dispatch Yard, so there should still be some resistance. The telephone line must have been cut."

"Let’s hope so," Yegorov put down his binoculars. "Today, the enemy’s attack on our position was a lot fiercer, but thankfully, we have Whirlwind to keep their tanks from getting too reckless."

The deputy officer sighed, "How long will this kind of contest continue?"

"Until victory, isn’t that obvious?" Yegorov said with determination. "Or until we all die in battle."

----

Train Dispatch Yard.

The fierce battle in Satellite City had been raging for two days without a pause from dawn till dusk.

The warriors of the Sixteenth Army Group followed General Rocosov’s instructions, breaking down into three-man combat teams, fighting around the clock throughout the entire city against the Prosens.

Each combat team operated independently, making their own decisions on movements in the ruins and actively inflicting casualties on the Prosens.

Typically such combat teams, led by one or two core members of the Secular faction, would spontaneously join forces with other reduced teams to form new ones and continue the fight against the Prosens.

They had no contact with higher command and no resupply, living off dry rations they carried or food found in local cellars, with ammunition taken from fallen enemies.

Except for their khaki Antean uniforms, their equipment was identical to that of the Prosens.

It was many such units that attacked the Prosens day and night.

As long as a single combat team was alive, the Sixteenth Army Group had not been annihilated, and the Train Dispatch Yard had not been completely lost.

Even though the Sixteenth Army Group’s Headquarters had already been taken by elite Prosens warriors.

A Prosens Major, stepping over documents that had not yet burned on the ground, walked up to the fallen general and bent down to retrieve identification from his body.

"General Panfilov," the Major, who obviously understood Antenese, read the name on the identification and turned around to scold, "You should not have killed him!"

The Master Sergeant at the door awkwardly said, "He was fighting with a submachine gun and had already killed three of our men, Your Excellency. We couldn’t afford any more casualties!"

The Major cursed, "Couldn’t you wait for him to run out of bullets? There are so many ways to capture him alive, why didn’t you think of that? Now that he’s dead, there’s no one left to order a halt to the resistance."

The Master Sergeant hesitated, then said, "Major, I don’t think these Anteans will stop resisting, even with a Commander’s order. I’ve fought with them; they won’t stop, Major. They won’t."

The Major said, "Whether or not they will is not for you to decide! Take the body of this general and hang it in front of a tank, parade it through the city to show the Anteans that their cause is lost."

The Master Sergeant replied, "I refuse to do that. It will only boost the enemy’s morale and incite them to resist even more fiercely to the end."

"Are you teaching me how to do my job?" the Major turned, pointing at his badge, "I am a Constitutional Guards Major, the eyes and ears of the Emperor!"

The Master Sergeant clenched his teeth and nodded to his subordinates, and two privates stepped forward, grabbed Panfilov’s arms, and dragged him outside.

(You all worry about the little maid so much, I can only put out the draft for now)

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