Arc of Fire

Chapter 7

A little earlier in time.

When Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Panteleyevich Yegorov, the commander of the Third Rear Amur Regiment, saw the tank being destroyed by Divine Arrow, he immediately cheered, "Well done!"

The noble-born regimental staff officer Pavlov frowned.

But Yegorov couldn't care less about that. Just by looking at his name, you could tell he didn't get along with the nobles.

Nobles liked to be meticulous with naming, and they would never choose a common name like Ivan.

Ivan Panteleyevich Yegorov came from a peasant background and rose to the position of regimental commander through his achievements in the Civil War and the Winter War. It was said that if the Civil War and the subsequent purges hadn't nearly wiped out the noble officers, Yegorov would never have had the chance to become commander.

The noble-born staff officer Pavlov had looked down on Yegorov from the start. When the war began, he even tried to replace Yegorov and take command of the troops, but he was rebuffed.

Not only that, to avoid listening to Pavlov's constant nagging, Yegorov went to the front lines, leaving the empty shell of the regimental headquarters to the noble lord.

He had thought the noble lord wouldn't have the guts to come to the front lines, but to his surprise, Pavlov followed him, and his nagging and nitpicking doubled.

Later, the Prossenians' offensive proved that Yegorov's experience from the Civil War and Winter War was indeed effective, greatly reducing the casualties of his troops.

However, Yegorov's experience couldn't offset the disparity in combat experience, weaponry, and preparedness between the two sides.

Most of the Third Rear Amur Regiment were recruits, and they were completely unprepared for the onset of war.

In fact, the entire empire was unprepared.

The day before the war broke out, the imperial chancellor was still confidently declaring on the radio that war would not erupt, and that the Prossenians' target was the West.

Given the rushed response to the war, Yegorov was already satisfied with how things had turned out.

He shouted in a booming voice to the green recruits, "Don't be afraid! Just lie behind the wall and shoot, you don't even need to aim! The enemy is human too, and they'll be scared when bullets whiz past their ears! Keep pulling the bolt and firing! Don't think about anything else!"

As he spoke, not far from him, a machine gun position was firing intensely with a Maxim gun.

Suddenly, a shell struck the sandbags in front of the machine gun position.

The explosion instantly drowned out the rest of Yegorov's words.

The hastily built fortifications couldn't withstand tank cannons at all.

Including the mount, wheels for mobility, and protective plates, the entire machine gun weighed dozens of kilograms, yet it was flipped over like a toy, crashing to the ground.

The machine gunner's upper body was completely blown apart, and the ammo loader's shoulder was entirely severed, exposing stark white bone.

Screams filled the vast room.

"Stop screaming!" Yegorov roared, "Suka blyat! Backup gunner! Get the machine gun back up now!"

As he spoke, Yegorov poked his head out and saw a second tank rounding the street corner.

"Hmph, the second Divine Arrow will take care of you!"

Saying this, Yegorov looked hopefully toward the Divine Arrow squad's position, only to find that smoke had already obscured the entire street.

The Prossenians used smoke to block the Divine Arrow squad's line of sight while ensuring the tanks had visibility to unleash their firepower.

The enemy clearly had combat experience.

Yegorov looked at the green recruits under his command.

Most of the recruits weren't cowardly; after all, the Amur Province, where the Rear Amur Regiment was recruited, was known for its tough folk. Before enlisting, eight or nine out of ten of these recruits had likely participated in violent clashes with neighboring villages over water sources, so they lacked neither courage nor ruthlessness.

Unfortunately, courage and ruthlessness were useless on the battlefield; no matter how tough someone was, they couldn't stand against a tank's machine guns and cannons.

At that moment, Yegorov heard the whistling of artillery shells in the sky.

As a veteran, he immediately determined that the impact point was nearby.

Not only that, he could tell these shells were coming from the rear-from their own side.

"Suka blyat!" Yegorov cursed angrily, "Those damned noble lords are going to blow us up along with the enemy! Everyone, get down!"

Yegorov himself dropped to the ground, carefully propping himself up with his hands to avoid full contact with the earth, while opening his mouth-something the recruits didn't understand, and they'd probably be stunned silly by the heavy artillery!

In the blink of an eye, the shells landed.

But the explosion was very faint, as if a 300-pound giant had just farted.

Yegorov lifted his head in confusion and saw white smoke pouring in through the windows.

Outside, the faint sound of smoke shells releasing gas could be heard.

Why smoke shells?

Staff officer Pavlov also voiced his confusion, "Why smoke shells? This doesn't make sense! I never learned about this at Suvorov Military Academy!"

Suddenly, Yegorov slapped his thigh and burst into laughter, "Brilliant!"

Pavlov was startled, "What's going on?"

Yegorov completely ignored the staff officer and shouted in his booming voice, "Brothers! Grab your weapons! Charge with me, and cut down anyone in black uniforms! Ura!"

By now, the smoke had filled the room, making it impossible to see anyone just a few meters away. Yegorov drew the saber that had been with him for years, not caring if anyone was following, shouted "Ura" first, and with a powerful leap, jumped out of the window from the second floor to the ground.

As his feet went numb from the landing, he continued shouting, "Rear Amur Regiment! Charge! If we lose in close combat, the women back home will laugh at us for ten years! Ura!"

The recruits might not understand modern warfare, but they understood brawls.

And so, earth-shaking cries of "Ura" echoed to the heavens.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the smoke ahead, and Yegorov slashed down with a fierce strike.

This strike was highly skilled; the blade only cut through flesh without getting stuck on bone, merely gliding over it.

The cut severed the trachea and artery at the throat, a small but fatal wound. The black-clad soldier clutched his neck and collapsed.

Yegorov pressed forward; the smoke obscured his vision, but in such conditions, there was no need for friend-or-foe identification-anyone coming toward him was definitely an enemy, so just strike.

"Anyone coming toward us is an enemy!" Yegorov shouted, "Even if you strike the wrong person, it's just a deserter! Kill them all!"

Amid the chaos, he heard the sound of an engine and charged toward it, running straight to the tank.

With a swift leap, he climbed onto the tank.

Unfortunately, Yegorov didn't know how to operate the Prossenians' turtle shell.

So, he pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and stuffed it into the tank's largest opening-the cannon barrel.

There was a muffled bang, but the tank showed no reaction.

Yegorov didn't care; if there was no reaction, it just meant the explosion wasn't loud enough. He shouted to those behind him, "Grenades! Give me more grenades!"

Someone in the smoke tossed up a belt with four grenades attached.

Yegorov pulled the pins one by one and stuffed them into the cannon barrel.

At that moment, the tank's top hatch suddenly opened, and a Prossenian officer poked his head out. The officer wore a peaked cap with headphones strapped over it, and the moment he saw Yegorov, he raised a submachine gun-

Yegorov didn't have time to draw his saber, so he used the grenade as a club, smashing it into the officer's face, then pulled the pin and stuffed it into the tank's hatch.

The Prossenian officer shouted something, but Yegorov couldn't understand it.

There was a flash inside the hatch, and the officer immediately fell silent. Yegorov took his submachine gun and ripped off the cross insignia from his collar.

"Ura!" Yegorov shouted.

(End of Chapter)