Cannon Fire Arc

The commander of the Prosen 190th Infantry Division was brought to the First Mobile Group Army Headquarters at eight o'clock on the evening of the 18th. Stay updated via empire

The major general glanced at the sunlight streaming in through the second-floor window of the warehouse, "To think it's in a warehouse, the Air Force intelligence really got it wrong."

Wang Zhong looked at Vasily, "What did he say?"

"He said the Air Force really messed up the location of our headquarters."

Wang Zhong, "Does he actually think that with the correct intelligence from the Air Force they could have won? Don't be like that. The current situation mostly results from their vanguard Said Division being unexpectedly crushed by our surprise attack through the fog. This led to his division being placed at the very forefront of their entire formation.

"And their superiors didn't commit armored troops and grenadiers to the front line to solidify the defense but went off to execute a pincer movement.

"A pincer movement would have been fine, but they acted neither swiftly nor resolutely, letting the armored troops stand idle—although I suspect they were probably waiting for supplies."

Pavlov, "They were waiting for supplies; they definitely underestimated the harshness of the steppe environment."

Popov added, "The testimonies of the prisoners confirm this as well."

Vasily translated Wang Zhong's words one by one, and surprisingly, the Prussian major general's expression didn't change much.

The major general, "We just didn't expect you to use cavalry! And General Boke misjudged your target, he thought you'd breakthrough the center, deal with a pincer strategy with a direct assault, just like the Emperor did during tabletop exercises."

Wang Zhong furrowed his brows, thinking that a central breakthrough to counter a pincer attack? The Battle of Astarte from Legend of the Galactic Heroes? Could such an old-fashioned tactic really be implemented on the modern battlefield? Are you Prussian generals fooling around with the Emperor?

An abundance of sarcasm flashed through Wang Zhong's mind in an instant, then he said, "It shows that your Emperor isn't all that great. When we break through Prussia, I'll personally take his dog life, with this gun."

As he spoke, he placed his hand on his pistol holster, caressing the sidearm that had already killed two generals. If he killed an emperor with it too, this gun would truly become a Holy Relic.

Vasily translated Wang Zhong's "bravado" word for word, and everyone got to witness the Prussian major general's impressive change of expressions.

He shouted, "Insolence! Delusional! Your exchange rate with us is still so terrible, dreaming of hitting Prussia is the talk of fools! You can't even get back Argesukov that you lost last year!"

Wang Zhong sneered, "Let's wait and see. According to my estimation, in four years, at most four years, we'll take down Prussia and beat all our allies to it! Someone, take him away and let the judges give him a good reception.

"Remember, we need him alive so one day he can see me trampling over—uh, are there any notable buildings in this city to be trampled underfoot?"

Everyone looked at each other confusedly.

Wang Zhong had thought of mentioning the Brandenburg Gate, but firstly, it was a gargantuan structure over ten meters high not so easily trampled underfoot by a person, and secondly, he didn't know whether this world possessed a Brandenburg Gate.

After pondering for a while, Vasily replied, "There doesn't seem to be anything that can be trampled underfoot. Perhaps trample their flag? I'll translate it that way."

Wang Zhong, "Alright, translate it that way!"

Vasily immediately carried out the order and just as he translated the last word, the Prussian stood up from the chair, attempting to rush at Wang Zhong.

Wang Zhong instinctively stepped back, at the same time turning to Grigori—

The sergeant major dropped his cigarette and raised the submachine gun from his waist—

Then everything was ended with a punch from Pavlov.

The chief of staff, looking at the Prussian major general on the ground, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the enemy's blood off his fist, "Now you act the hero, why didn't you resist to the end when facing the guns of Melania's People's Army?"

Wang Zhong sighed in relief, glanced at Grigori, and noticed he was picking up his cigarette from the ground—really, is he going to continue smoking that?

Vasily scratched his head, "Should I translate what the chief of staff just said?"

Wang Zhong, "Translate it, and add a saying from Cyrus: 'A general of a defeated army should not speak of courage.' Let him reflect on it."

————

While this small incident took place at the First Mobile Group Army Headquarters, General Boke, at the Prussian Tenth Army Group Headquarters, was anxiously waiting for news from the front line.

"A whole division! It couldn't possibly have disintegrated so quickly, could it?" he murmured to himself as he paced back and forth.

Corps Chief of Staff: "We were one step behind, always behind. The pincer movement wasn't prepared in time and caught us by surprise, then we misjudged the enemy's intent..."

General Boke interrupted the Chief of Staff, "It's too early to draw conclusions now. Moreover, we were blinded by Rokossov's reputation, thinking he wanted to win a grand, luxurious victory, but in reality, he just wanted a small bite, a very small bite!"

General Boke walked around the command center before continuing, "I should have realized earlier! He never intended to win big in one fell swoop because he knew the supply situation on the steppe was terrible. If it weren't for their cavalry commitment, they would be in the same predicament as us."

In fact, not really, because the First Mobile Group Army is the richest in Ante, with plenty of trucks supplied by the Federation.

General Boke: "Under limited supply conditions, Rokossov chose the most appropriate tactics. He might not be the best commander, but he is definitely the most suitable for Ante, the most fitting."

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At the same time, at the original position of the 190th Division.

Since the 190th Division's position on the steppe was made of dirt, it couldn't withstand the ferocious firepower of the First Mobile Group Army.

There were practically no shelters on the battlefield that remained in their original form; even the sandbags filled with dirt were blown apart by the cannons, their contents spilling out.

Private Popov of the Melania People's Army First Division was clearing the battlefield.

Suddenly, he heard a sneeze coming from beneath the destroyed No. 3 assault gun.

Popov immediately became alert, disengaging the safety on the thread cutter machine he held.

He approached the front of the assault gun, slowly bent down, and looked underneath.

A young Prosen private lay under the vehicle, covering his mouth with a terrified look on his face.

Popov shouted, "Come out! You damned Prosen cur! Come out!"

The Prosen recruit shrank his neck and started yelling something loud, quickly crawling out from under the vehicle with his hands held high.

Popov looked at the Prosen soldiers raising their hands high and hit him in the stomach with the butt of his gun.

The Prosen soldier knelt on the ground, clutching his stomach and moaning in pain.

Popov pulled back the bolt of his rifle to make sure there was a bullet, and then he aimed at the Prosen, "Damn it, I learned a bit of Prosen just for this moment. Listen well!"

Popov took a deep breath.

"This is for my sister!" (In Prosen)

Accompanied by a roar, Popov fired, hitting the Prosen man's arm with a single shot.

The powerful ammunition of the thread cutter machine immediately shattered the Prosen man's bones, causing his left arm to hang limply.

"This is for my sister!" (In Prosen)

The captive's other hand was broken.

The Prosen man started to wail.

At that moment, the Military Bishop rushed up and raised Popov's gun.

"Enough! He has surrendered! According to General Rokossovsky's orders, slaughtering prisoners is punishable by death!"

Popov laughed, "I'm Melania, I don't understand Ante or Prosen. I didn't know he had surrendered."

The Bishop stared at Popov, "You don't understand, huh? Alright, I won't sentence you to death. But you can't escape 40 lashes."

Popov: "Fine! To kill a damned Prosen, I can withstand 100 lashes!"

The Bishop looked at him for a few seconds, then waved his hand, "Take him away, we'll execute the sentence tomorrow."