Cannon Fire Arc

Prussian Army, Ninth Army Group Headquarters.

Three Prussian generals with red collar patches and a colonel without a red collar patch were playing cards.

Yes, despite the continuous artillery fire outside, they were indeed playing cards.

At that moment, a communications staff officer entered, stood at attention, and saluted, "Major General Siegfried Gilais from the First Army of the Asgard Knights is asking about our progress in the attack."

One of the three generals, middle-aged and ranked in between his peers, lifted his head and adjusted his monocle, "Doesn't he know the attack isn't directed by me? Questions about our attack should go to our 'Hero of Lightning.' Isn't that how propaganda portrays him?"

The younger brigadier general beside him corrected, "It's 'Blitz Hero,' Your Excellency."

"Oh right, Blitz Hero. I just had my infantry follow the tanks in the attack."

The communications staff officer asked, "Shall we reply like that?"

"No," said Major General Walter Mendel, standing up and looking at the map, "Such a direct reply seems too dismissive towards His Majesty's favored minister. So how is each unit faring now?"

The staff officers responsible for updating the map turned their heads toward the major general, "At least on the map, there is no progress at all."

Walter Mendel walked over to the map, scrutinized it, and huffed, "The same as this morning! So we've finally hit a snag? What happened to the enemy crumbling like an avalanche as promised?

"When I visited the Army Group headquarters, Marshal Von Bock was writing in his journal, even read it to me, saying, 'The enemy is collapsing at a staggering rate, and the war will end within three months.'"

Mendel turned around, pointing at the map and addressing the others, "Because it will end in three months, everyone is out for glory, and so I even lost command of my own Army Group."

After venting, Mendel turned to the communications officer, "Tell Major General Gilais that we have made no progress. No—progress at all!"

After the communications officer left with his orders, the oldest general among them—Mendel's chief of staff—said, "High Command estimates we have eliminated forty percent of the enemy's total forces. According to this estimate, if we eliminate about a million more, Ante will be left with no more troops capable of combat."

"Right now in the north, Saint Andrew Fort has no fewer than seven hundred thousand people tied down. That means if we can eliminate another three hundred thousand, their defense line will collapse."

Mendel looked at the map again, "High Command also predicts that we have at most one million in front of us, while a total of one million eight hundred thousand troops are part of Rolling Operation, with a battle troop ratio of one hundred eighty to one hundred, giving us the advantage. But on the first day of the attack, the enemy's defenses didn't budge an inch."

The old chief of staff theorized, "This means the enemy's fortifications are good. But as the heavy artillery and aerial assaults continue, the fortifications will gradually be worn down, the enemy will suffer casualties, and then we will be able to break through."

Mendel stared at the map for a while before saying, "Let's hope so. Let's hope so indeed."

————

Prussian Army, First Army of the Asgard Knights' Headquarters.

Siegfried Gilais put down the telegram and sighed deeply.

At that moment, the chief of staff reported to him, "The third wave of attacks is ready, shall we proceed?"

Gilais looked at his watch, "It's almost seven o'clock; why has the assembly taken so long?"

"Because you ordered division headquarters to move positions," said the chief of staff. "No one can move and assemble for an attack simultaneously. Considering this, having completed it by now is already a good outcome. Shall we attack?"

Gilais studied the map, "Launching the attack now, it might be dark by halfway through, and even if we break into the eastern city, we'll be forced to fight at night. No, we can't engage the enemy in night combat on their familiar terrain. Let's call it a day. Have the artillery open fire and let today's operation end with a barrage."

"Yes," responded the chief of staff as he turned and left.

Feliz stepped beside Gilais and said, "The entire southern line hasn't budged, and while the north has made some headway, it's not as rapid as it was at the start."

"The enemy is getting stronger," Gilais spoke in a deep voice, "Have the engineer troops start digging works."

Feliz asked, "Digging works? Are we going to dig tunnels like in the trenches era, maybe blow them up with explosives?"

Gilais replied, "It's just a precaution, a second line of preparation. Tomorrow, we need to change our method of attack. The enemy has the advantage in armor and fortifications, and judging from today's situation, trading shots with enemy anti-tank guns is proving to be a terrible exchange ratio."

"Should we go have a look at the tanks that were hit and have come back?" Feliz suggested.

Gilais nodded, "Let's have a look, since we are not attacking tonight. There's no harm in leaving the headquarters."

————

First Army's Field Armor Maintenance Factory.

When Gilais appeared, the mechanics and tank crews were taken aback and quickly saluted.

"Don't be nervous," Gilais waved his hand, "I've just taken command of this army, and you're not familiar with me yet. With time, you'll see that I am just like you, a child of a civilian. It just so happens that I had the chance to meet His Majesty back in the military academy."

He redirected the conversation to the tank being repaired, "How are the tanks doing? Are there any that clearly show enemy armor-piercing shell calibers or other such data?"

"Yes, here we have one that was hit in the turret," said the factory director immediately. "It's this one, Tank 331. Look, it took a hit in the front of the turret, and then the shell went right through from the back. All three men inside the turret died, but the driver and mechanic were able to drive the tank back."

Gilais carefully examined the impact hole in the turret front, "It doesn't seem to be a 45-millimeter gun."

"Nor a seventy-six millimeter. We estimate the shell caliber to be between fifty and sixty millimeters, considering their usual practice, likely fifty-seven millimeters."

Gilais turned to Feliz, "Does Ante Army have such a caliber anti-tank gun in the armament table, with such strong penetration?"

"No," Feliz declared without even checking the equipment roster, "It's a new weapon we don't know about—I mean, that High Command doesn't know about."

Giles nodded, then asked, "Since the holes before and after the shell are so neat, indicating that the shell itself didn't leave behind many fragments, why did everyone in the turret die?"

The head of the repair shop replied, "The internal armor of the turret deformed and then collapsed, forming shrapnel that killed the people inside the turret. You'll understand once you come in and see for yourself, the area around the shell hole has all collapsed."

Giles climbed up the turret and examined the area around the shell hole with assistance from the head of the repair shop.

"It seems that preventing the internal armor from collapsing can effectively increase the survivability of tank crew members," he said. "This suggestion should be passed on to the Science Academy."

Feliz remarked, "But it's certain that we won't be able to make use of that now."

Red-haired Major General Giles nodded: "Exactly. Now we know the enemy has a type of new, excessive anti-tank gun. It's unwise to continue exchanging fire with such a gun. The focus of tomorrow's attack should be on depleting the enemy's living forces."

Feliz asked, "How do we deplete them? The enemy is holed up in sturdy defenses."

"I'm thinking. I'm thinking," Giles said, pacing back and forth with hands behind his back, and sighed deeply.

————

At 2020 hours, at the Shostka Guards Division's divisional bunker headquarters.

Wang Zhong put down his binoculars, "Strange, why have the enemies stopped attacking? They bombarded us for over an hour just now, and then it stopped?"

Popov suggested, "The enemy might not want to battle at night."

Wang Zhong retorted, "We originally told the troops to hurry up and eat because we were planning to engage them again in the afternoon, and now look at us, we haven't even fully digested the food!"

Pavlov said, "Isn't this a good thing, then? We can save on ammunition and food. It's getting dark now; should we rotate the troops at the bridgehead fortifications? They report minimal losses."

Wang Zhong answered, "Rotate them. Even with minimal losses, we need to rotate to give more troops experience. Arrange the rotation as previously scheduled. Let's go with... action 'two one zero zero'."

"Two one zero zero," a military time expression, using this phrasing can avoid being misunderstood.

Pavlov replied, "Can do."

Popov, smiling, said, "Today was easier than expected; perhaps we can hold out for 20 days. The remaining question is just when it will rain. Hopefully, the 'mud general' will arrive early this year."

————

At 2100 hours, on the eastern outskirts of Shostka, with the Guards Division reserve force, the Third Battalion of the Fifth Belyensky Regiment.

The sentry suddenly saw a group of people in a neat formation approaching from the east, so he lowered his rifle and shouted, "Halt! Who goes there?"

The approaching group immediately stopped moving, then two individuals who appeared to be officers walked toward the sentry post.

"The 51st Regiment's Third Battalion of the 11th Internal Guard Division."

The sentry turned and called out, "Platoon leader!"

The platoon leader appeared with two soldiers in tow: "We're here, we came when we saw people approaching. Show me your IDs and your transfer orders. We weren't notified of your arrival."

While producing his ID, an officer of the Internal Guard Division said, "We're on a special mission; it's normal that you don't know."

After checking the IDs, the platoon leader pressed, "And the orders?"

"We're on a special mission; we can't tell you!" the officer chastised, "Who are you to question matters concerning the Tribunal?"

The platoon leader was unmoved: "Our division commander is General Rokossovsky, and he received his weapon as a personal gift from the Grand Patriarch!"

Since the day they caught that Prosen major who'd rather die than be executed by Wang Zhong's pistol, many legends concerning that pistol had spread throughout the Guards Division.

The officer from the Internal Guard Division burst into rage: "Are you trying to shield traitors?"

"There are no traitors in our division! Andrei, set up the machine gun! Call headquarters and report that a suspicious group of Internal Guard troops has arrived!"

Suddenly, two figures dashed out from the shadows and slit the throats of the two soldiers accompanying the platoon leader.

The original sentry, shocked, opened fire immediately.

After the shot rang out, the entire reserve force was alerted.

The "Internal Guard soldiers" immediately adopted combat formations and charged the position.

The entire position erupted with gunfire.

————

Wang Zhong was having dinner when he heard the gunshots and looked up: "From the east?"

He adjusted his view and noticed that on the symbols representing his own troops from the east there was an indicator of exchange of fire.

But since there was no direct communication, he couldn't see what was happening exactly.

Wang Zhong remained calm, "Get the airport, artillery, anti-aircraft guns, and Divine Arrow Company's guards up. Have them enter alert status, and no one is to be allowed near. Then call Eugene, and have him clarify what's happening with the Third Battalion and who they're fighting against."

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