Arc of Fire

Chapter 22

Su Fang watched as the truck disappeared into the distance, then turned to carefully examine the silver-haired girl.

"So beautiful-" she sincerely praised.

At this moment, the silver-haired girl spoke: "He must have lost his mind. The old him would never do something like this."

Su Fang: "The old him? Have you known the Count for long?"

The silver-haired girl shrugged: "I've known him since childhood, our territories border each other."

Su Fang: "Are you a Countess?"

"Not yet. I'm currently a Prayer Hand, so I can't accept secular titles."

Becoming clergy means you can't accept secular titles.

"Oh," Su Fang nodded, then asked again, "Will you marry the Count in the future?"

"Huh?" The silver-haired girl froze, turned to look at Su Fang, then grinned, "You... don't tell me you've taken a liking to him? He's famously terrible-many salons in Saint Yekaterinburg won't welcome him because he gropes around like a dog in heat. Come to think of it, when I helped him earlier, he didn't try anything. Must've been the fever!"

Su Fang was shocked: "He's like that?"

"You're not part of his 41st Mixed Brigade, are you? His bad reputation is well-known throughout the brigade. By the way, when the battle started yesterday, he immediately cried and fled to the basement, wetting his pants. The 41st Mixed Brigade's morale collapsed because of him."

As the silver-haired girl spoke, Yegorov coughed: "Enough. He may have been a coward before, but what I see now is a brave Ant man! Without him, we'd probably be trapped in Ronezh by now."

"Be more careful with your words, Brother. Don't say things that might affect morale!"

Prayer Hands are also clergy, part of the religious order.

The silver-haired girl hurriedly said: "Sorry, I just... just..."

She stammered for a while without finishing, then shrugged.

No sooner had she spoken than a muffled boom came from the distance.

The soldiers who had disembarked for rest all threw themselves to the ground in unison.

Veterans like Yegorov waved their hands: "Don't panic, it's far away! If artillery were about to hit us, you'd hear a 'whoosh' first. When you've been around long enough, you can even tell the caliber from that sound."

But the silver-haired girl shouted: "The gunfire came from the direction he went!"

Then she snatched Yegorov's binoculars, ran a few steps, and stood on a roadside rock to observe the distance.

The wind from the east loosened her braid, sending her silver hair flying in the dawn light.

**

Wang Zhong saw the tank move from his Overhead Perspective.

He wanted to jump out, but had no strength left.

By the time he switched back to normal vision, the shell had already landed by the road. Dirt from the explosion flew through the half-open window and landed on his face.

Sergei immediately opened the door and jumped out, leaving the uncontrolled truck to keep moving forward.

In his daze, Wang Zhong reached for the steering wheel and tried to press the opposite pedal with his foot, but his fever left him too weak to move it.

Maybe because he didn't give it gas, or maybe because shrapnel had damaged the engine, the truck gradually slowed down.

The tank on the hill fired again, turning the empty truck bed into an orange fireball.

The rear window of the cab shattered, and the fragments cut Wang Zhong's cheek.

Wang Zhong sat in the cab, trying to open the door, but his condition wouldn't allow it.

Only then did it suddenly occur to him that he didn't need to make this trip himself.

Damn it. Trying to stay alive, only to end up delivering himself to death.

Maybe the tank crew on the hill saw the white flag on the truck, or maybe they just wanted to conserve ammo, but they stopped firing.

Wang Zhong sat in the cab and tried opening the door twice more, but failed both times. The shell that landed on his side might have damaged it.

He could only crawl toward the driver's side, planning to exit from where Sergei had jumped.

After all, he didn't know if the truck would catch fire.

Burning to death is the most painful way to go, and Wang Zhong didn't want to experience it.

Just then, he saw a white horse appear on the hillside where the tanks were positioned!

Someone was riding the white horse down the slope at a trot, heading straight for the wrecked truck.

Wang Zhong stared at the white horse, even forgetting his struggle for survival.

Switching to Overhead Perspective, Wang Zhong could clearly see the rider was a Captain wearing a tank crash helmet-probably the commander of this tank platoon.

When the Captain reached him and saw Wang Zhong's rank, he cursed "Suka blyat," then quickly dismounted to open the door.

After dragging Wang Zhong out, the Captain sighed in relief, stood up, and saluted: "Captain Lubokov, 2nd Battalion, 31st Tank Regiment, 4th Tank Army. Ordered to ambush Prossenian forces here!"

Wang Zhong: "2nd Battalion? I only see four tanks."

The Captain looked bitter: "We're all that's left. Airstrikes took out most of our tanks. The Prossenians have 20mm cannons on their planes-they can take us out from the air, not to mention the bombs."

Glancing at the hilltop, he continued complaining: "Our tanks are fragile. Damn that military industrial minister who loves multi-turret designs! The Prossenians all use single-turret tanks now! Even we agreed Carolingian single-turret tanks are the future during discussions!"

Wang Zhong: "If you know your tanks are fragile, why form up on the hill?"

The Captain: "Better visibility. Our 45mm cannons can take out Prossenian tanks from a distance."

Wang Zhong: "What if their air force returns? And you only have four vehicles against endless enemies."

The Captain: "We're ready to die gloriously. Yesterday, we set out from base with hundreds of comrades-now just a few of us remain. None of us planned to survive alone."

"No, no." Wang Zhong shook his head repeatedly. "You're under my command now. I'm just the vanguard-there's most of an infantry regiment and direct support units behind me. There's a small town past the hill. We'll fall back and defend there."

Wang Zhong liked playing RTS games, especially one called Wargame: Red Dragon. In that game, tanks that rush into cities get torn apart by infantry rocket launchers.

Before transmigrating, he'd also watched many of *Mas's "anti-tank gymnastics" videos, so he naturally thought of falling back into the town for urban combat.

This would let them use terrain to minimize the T28 tank's weak armor and avoid enemy strafing runs.

This decision might not be optimal, but it was the best Wang Zhong could come up with in this situation.

The Captain studied Wang Zhong for a few seconds: "From the hill, I saw a Prossenian convoy advancing with headlights on, then suddenly turning them off. Was that your infantry regiment?"

Wang Zhong nodded: "Yes. We counterattacked, wiped out a division HQ, and captured a supply depot. Those vehicles are all spoils."

The Captain scratched his head: "Regulations say I should verify your identity, but... my gut says you're one of us. And despite being injured and feverish, you charged our tank position-no spy would have that courage..."

Wang Zhong: "So what's your decision? Skip the formalities and tell me."

The Captain clicked his tongue: "Our radio's broken, so we can't contact command. Per regulations, we accept your orders!"

(End of chapter)