Arc of Fire

That night, outside the City of Alexander.

Although it was summer, the City of Alexander was close to the equator, so it got dark very early.

A shallow draft gunboat captured by the Prosens anchored near the ferry crossing of a small village outside the city, continuously firing heavy artillery into the city.

The United Kingdom’s fleet at sea had been trying to attack this heavy artillery ship, but the seaplanes launched by catapult were too vulnerable in front of Prosen Air Force fighters to provide sustained corrective shooting.

The Prosen side relied on the artillery observation post on the mountain to continuously guide the shallow draft gunboat’s fire.

However, neither side had achieved a hit.

Now that night had fallen, the artillery observation post could no longer see the enemy ships, so everything quieted down.

At eight o’clock sharp, the sky had almost completely darkened, and a Prosen captain emerged from the hut used as a guard post, beginning to fulfill his duty, routine patrol—every two hours on the dot, even the time the captain arrived at each post was accurate to the minute, a true display of Prosen punctuality.

The captain, with his usual stride, illuminated each sentry with a flashlight as he proceeded along the dock’s outer wall.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the bushes, grabbed the captain from behind, and covered his mouth.

Before the captain could struggle, the syringe plunged into his carotid artery with exceptional precision. An unknown liquid was pushed a little bit into his bloodstream.

The captain’s body immediately went limp, and the figure dragged him into the shadow of the outer wall.

A moment later, the "captain" emerged from the shadows, slightly taller than before and now wearing a pair of glasses.

The "captain" continued down the path he had come from and approached the north gate. He waved to the two soldiers manning the machine gun, "How’s it going?"

The two soldiers saluted in unison, but the master sergeant machine gunner immediately noticed something amiss, promptly raised his submachine gun, and clicked off the safety, "You’re not Captain Yeager!"

"Captain Yeager has diarrhea, maybe malaria, so I’m taking over his patrol duty, which is why I’m a bit late," the "captain" said, pulling out his identity card and handing it over to the master sergeant machine gunner.

At this time, an entire platoon dressed in Commando Force camouflage uniforms and wearing berets appeared on the machine gun-guarded main road.

The tall man leading them wore only a vest, revealing muscular arms, and held a Scottish Claymore; behind him were a Scottish bagpipe and the United Kingdom’s traditional longbow.

He glanced at "Captain Hoffman," nodded slightly as a sign, and then tiptoed past the machine gun emplacement and into the dock.

Soon, away from the machine gun emplacement, rope ladders were thrown over from the other side of the fence, and the waiting Commando Force members approached the ladders and began to scale the wall.

Captain Hoffman shifted his gaze back to the two men in front of him.

The master sergeant machine gunner, scrutinizing the identity card under the light: "Captain Hoffman, huh? How come I’ve never heard of you?"

Captain Hoffman laughed, "Because I just got transferred here, along with the supply convoy that barely made it this afternoon. Dammit, the journey here was tough. Last year, I was in Ante for the winter campaign, and it was just as bad.

"Our enemies, unable to beat us, resort to such despicable tactics!"

The less experienced assistant gunner chimed in, "Right! They’re too cunning; why can’t they fight us head-on?"

The master sergeant still furrowed his brow, "I can’t find an issue with this ID; were you wounded and discharged from the troops? Then why didn’t you return to your original unit after recovering?"

Captain Hoffman spread his hands, "Because the unit was wiped out; it’s that simple. They were going to send me to the West Wall to join the coastal defense troops there, but I said that an invasion might not happen this year and that going to the West Wall would only result in growing mushrooms. I asked to go somewhere where there would be action.

"So, I came here."

The master sergeant nodded, accepting the explanation, and handed back the identity card to Captain Hoffman.

Captain Hoffman took the ID, sliding it into his pocket while asking, "Anything to report?"

"Nothing, all normal," said the master sergeant machine gunner, turning his head at the mention of the road, pointing. As he turned away, the remaining Commandos who hadn’t scaled the wall yet lay flat on the ground, using the shadows as camouflage.

Captain Hoffman: "No other officers have passed through?"

"No, Captain."

"What about vehicles passing through? Have you noticed anything peculiar?"

"Nothing."

Captain Hoffman asked a series of questions like this until all the members of the Commando Squad had climbed over the fence.

"Alright, that’s all from me; carry on with your duty, soldiers!"

Captain Hoffman saluted the two soldiers and walked steadily toward the next post.

The two soldiers watched him leave, and then the assistant gunner asked the master sergeant, "That Captain Hoffman is quite talkative, isn’t he? Unlike other officers who don’t have much to say to us grunts."

The master sergeant shook his head, "Good guys like that die fastest."

The assistant gunner: "Really?"

"Yeah, I’ve seen it a lot. Stay on your guard."

Captain Hoffman, after completing his patrol, did not return to the security office but quickly disappeared into the darkness, skillfully navigating through the port area.

Soon, he heard the call of a Toothpick Bird, a common bird near Alexandria. However, this call was rhythmic, and normal Toothpick Birds did not call like that.

Captain Hoffman spoke up, "Lightning."

The shadowy figure who had been holding a longsword leaped out, "Thunder!"

Captain Hoffman, "Now that you’ve shown yourself, why bother with a password? I can’t imagine anyone else using your gear for combat."

Longsword man, "Procedures must be followed. Alpha Squad has hit the water, targeting the Shallow Draft Gunboat. If the Prosens can capture it by boarding, we can sink it the same way.

"Beta Squad will head to the supply depot to plant explosives after Alpha Squad succeeds, prepared to destroy Prosen supplies.

"And you, me, and Charlie Squad are going to find Erwin. He’s a big star, having made a name for himself in the Carolingian campaign, and now he’s fighting his way to Alexandria with so few troops. He might be awarded the rank of Marshal when he returns home."

Captain Hoffman, "I need to get myself a... more intimidating uniform. The rank of Captain is too low, I have prepared documents ranging from Lieutenant to Colonel, and a whole basket of fabricated experiences. It’s not quite right to just have me wear a captain’s uniform."

Longsword man, "On my way here, I saw the laundry room. Gonif! Get a colonel’s uniform from the laundry room!"

"Right away." Gonif was a tall and thin figure who, upon receiving the order, vanished into the night like a monkey.

Longsword man, "It won’t be a long wait."

Captain Hoffman nodded.

The longsword man extended his hand, "Jonathan Jojo, everyone calls me Jojo."

Captain Hoffman shook Jonathan’s hand, "My name isn’t important. You can call me Doctor."

"To be known by code names, then? That’s fine."

"Yes, after all, who knows if after we finish with the Prosens, we will become enemies."

Jonathan, "You’re also part of the Mamluk independence movement? I heard you once tried to contact the Prosens to fight alongside them."

Stay connected through empire

"And then we saw them massacre the natives of Pelusium. Like you, they don’t treat us as people and don’t want to give us freedom," the "Doctor" said.

Jonathan wanted to add more, but Gonif returned with the uniforms, "Here, I was afraid of picking the wrong one, so I grabbed a few extra!"

Jonathan’s eyes brightened, "Good, then we’ll disguise a few more people. The lower-ranking ones just won’t speak, and Doctor will lead us to Erwin."

"The Doctor" said, "When this place turns into chaos, the guard around Erwin will surely be depleted. We strike then, aiming to take him down directly. If possible, we can capture him alive! That would surely deal a severe blow to Prosen morale and combat will."

Jonathan, "Capturing him alive might be difficult, especially how we’d carry him while fleeing. I don’t plan to die here, none of us do. Better just to take him out."

"The Doctor" nodded, "Respect your choice. Let’s move."

And so, under the lead of "Doctor" the "local", Charlie Squad followed the path from the harbor towards the African Army Headquarters, creeping towards their target.

Outside the Port of Alexandria, in a villa of typical Mamluk style, Erwin was reading reports submitted by various units.

The Chief of Staff spoke at his side, "Our army is in severe shortage of supplies. Some platoons need to concentrate their submachine gun bullets for a few skilled machine gunners. To cope with the ammunition shortage, the units have had to resort to United Kingdom weaponry, and at present, there is a flood of complaints about the Sten Submachine Gun, considered a very bad weapon."

Erwin, "But that’s all the enemy has to use, so no worries. What I’m more concerned about is, it mentions here the enemy engages in hand-to-hand combat with strange curved blades?"

He pointed to a line in the document.

The Chief of Staff nodded, "Yes, the enemy..."

That instant, there was a flash outside.

Then the shockwave arrived before the sound could catch up.

The villa, being used as Headquarters, had its windows already shattered by the explosion of the Royal Navy flagship earlier that day; thus, the shockwave now turned into a fierce wind that poured into the room.

At last, the sound arrived—

Erwin stood up and ran out of the room, looking from the terrace toward the port where an orange ball of fire rose.

The Shallow Draft Gunboat that had played a significant role in today’s combat had exploded!

The Chief of Staff, a step slower exiting the room, exclaimed, "Does the enemy also have Fritz X?"

Erwin, "No! It’s Commandos! Our forces in the north often get ambushed by these bastards! Those mixed breeds from the United Kingdom! Hurry, the enemy certainly plans more than just to destroy the Shallow Draft Gunboat. There must be more squads in action! Sound the alarm!"

Soon the alarm blared.

The weary soldiers of the African Army jumped from their beds at the sound, quickly assembling with the utmost speed.

Erwin, "It’s the supplies, they’re targeting our supplies! Quick, send troops to the depot and the docks!"