Arc of Fire

July 26, early morning at 0600 hours.

South Ante Plain, fifty kilometers north of Raoul Mountain Pass, temporary headquarters of the Ante Bolsk Front Army.

Duke Meishikin coughed up for what seemed like the umpteenth time, pulling out his handkerchief, covering his mouth. After a series of violent coughs, he kept his mouth covered, hesitating to remove the handkerchief.

Everyone was watching him.

Meishikin, as if with great resolve, took away the handkerchief from his mouth and glanced at it.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

At first glance, there was no blood, but as Meishikin slightly loosened his grip, the blood became visible.

His adjutant said indignantly, "The special medicine sent by the Federation just isn’t working at all!"

Duke Meishikin reassured him, "Haven’t you read the documents that came with the medicine? It’s still an experimental drug, not even past its trials yet. That’s one thing; secondly, they’ve described a course of treatment, and I’ve just started the first one."

While speaking, he started coughing again, and the adjutant hastily patted his back to help him cough up the phlegm.

Meishikin shook his head repeatedly, "No, no, I called you here to take over the command when I fall, not now; I haven’t fallen yet. It’s not just about reaching Raoul Mountain Pass—we still have so many rear-guard units. They’re all battle-hardened, strong troops, and I hope they too can safely reach the Pass and get a good rest in Ekaterina Dakar!"

Ekaterina Dakar, though similar to the name of the Fortress of Saint Ekaterina, is a different city. Ekaterina Dakar is an important junction point in the Raoul Mountains and also a major railway support center.

As the most prosperous city in the entire southern part of Ante, it is naturally an excellent place for troops to rest and resupply.

General Feodor Mikhailovich urged, "Please trust in my ability. I’ve successfully commanded retreats in last year’s war. I might not be as famous as you, Rocossov, or General Golikov, but I have some insights into retreats too!"

Duke Meishikin placed the blood-stained handkerchief in his left hand and patted Feodor Mikhailovich’s shoulder with the right, "I know. But the troops don’t know that. They trust me, so even now, as the enemy presses in step by step, although thirsty and hungry, they’re still advancing.

"Once they know I’ve fallen—or deserted, replaced by a general, maintaining that cohesiveness will be difficult to say."

General Feodor Mikhailovich hesitated, but finally nodded, "Understood."

Duke Meishikin, seeing he wasn’t completely convinced, continued, "The troops are in very poor condition now. We’ve tried our best to arrange for vehicle transport, but most of the units still had to walk here.

"They’ve trekked hundreds of kilometers. Throughout this long journey, we’ve hardly had the resources to establish cooking stations. Many units haven’t had hot soup for days, and can only gnaw on dry rations and Spam cans.

"I even suspect they could disintegrate at any moment. I can’t risk leaving the troops now to recuperate in the rear."

Feodor nodded, this time with much more resolve, "You’re right, but I believe, for the empire’s victory, we need talents like you alive."

Meishikin shook his head, "No, I’ve read Rocossov’s ’On Ante’s Victory and Prosen’s Defeat,’ and I agree with most of it. No matter how powerful Prosen is, it can’t withstand the siege of the Allied Forces. Their ally, the Empire of Fusang, has just suffered a significant defeat and is unlikely to be of help now.

"The Allied Forces have begun bombing Prosen cities. Even if Prosen’s industrial production doesn’t decrease, they’ll have to divert a lot of resources to produce anti-aircraft guns and fighters.

"Their defeat is just a matter of time. The difference is whether we reclaim our territory on our own and then enter the Prosen Empire to settle scores, or wait for the Allied Forces to flatten Prosen.

"I think Rocossov will settle with Prosen. After all, he coined the slogan ’See you in Ploseni.’ I think he’ll manage it.

"After this retreat, my duty is done. It’s time for you healthy, energetic people to take the lead on the battlefield."

As he spoke, Duke Meishikin started coughing again.

Worried, his adjutant said, "Please don’t speak anymore. Every time you speak, you’re..."

"Mind your own business!" Duke Meishikin raised his voice and forcefully pushed the adjutant away, "I know my own body!"

Just as Duke Meishikin was about to continue, a communications staff officer ran over, "We’ve received a telegram from General Rocossovsky, inquiring about our retreat status."

Feodor said, "We have not encountered encirclement by the enemy’s fresh forces. That is probably due to Rocossov’s efforts. Currently, on the entire South Ante Prairie, the enemy has formed two major clusters, and according to yesterday’s High Command report, the cluster on Rocossov’s side is larger."

Duke Meishikin approached the map table, stared at the overall map of the South Ante situation for a few seconds, and asked, "What’s between Prosen’s two clusters?"

"According to reconnaissance, only a small number of patrol units. But the entire region’s infrastructure is terribly poor and can’t support very large troop movements," Feodor answered.

Meishikin nodded, "Good. By the end of this year, Rocossov should be able to make use of this area."

"Make use of it?" the adjutant asked in confusion.

Duke Meishikin nodded, "Haven’t you seen High Command’s operation plan? I’m almost certain that the major proponent of this plan is Rocossov or it has evolved from one he submitted.

"Trading space for time, stretching the enemy’s supply lines, then waiting for General Mud to arrive, the tactic is exactly the same as last year. I guess this year the Prussians won’t freeze to death in droves like they did last year when their cars and tanks couldn’t start, and their machine guns froze and couldn’t fire—no, this year they won’t make the same mistake."

"But they can’t solve the mud, they just can’t! When the mud season comes, the enemy will surely fall into supply difficulties. That will be Rokossovsky’s time to counterattack,"

The aide-de-camp clicked his tongue, "Using the mud again? Why doesn’t he try something new?"

General Feodor replied, "As long as the strategy works, why not use it several times? Moreover, this is basically an open secret; the enemy knows it too. So they must achieve enough victories before the mud season arrives, like capturing Abawahan and even the oil fields of Baku."

"And what Rokossovsky is best at is defense; he has already held the enemy’s Tenth Army Group at Yeisk for so long. Moreover, his casualties are far fewer than our defensive battles from last year, and he has inflicted heavy losses on the enemy."

"If it’s Rokossovsky, he will definitely be able to stop the enemy’s offense until General Mud arrives."

Duke Meishikin started coughing again, catching his breath before continuing, "What’s undecided now is whether there will be a decisive battle before the end of the year. I don’t think it’ll start in Abawahan, but it seems there are no other critical nodes either."

The Duke gazed along the lengthy Valdai Hills River. As one of Ante’s three major industrial belts, the entire riverside was an unbroken stretch of factories, and even the small cities and villages by the river looked very prosperous, filled with steel and concrete buildings.

In contrast to such prosperity, the Valdai Hills River itself seemed to lack any particularly crucial nodes—the kind that would have the effect of hitting the snake’s vital points when seized.

If one had to say, as long as you could blockade the Valdai Hills River, it didn’t matter where you did it.

But the Valdai Hills River, as the mother river of Ante, was really quite wide and the water was frighteningly deep, with an inland navy patrolling its surface.

The Red Navy had also brought in many large gunboats outfitted with land artillery. Capturing just one side of the Valdai Hills River and trying to completely block the river would still be very difficult.

So even Duke Meishikin was uncertain where the enemy would choose to stop and fight desperately, where the fierce meat grinder battles would occur.

All he could do was stare at the map, praying that Rokossovsky would find a way to break the enemy’s offensive.

While Duke Meishikin contemplated the future, his Front Army was still trudging toward the mountain pass.

Sergeant Ivan Konstantinovich hadn’t had a hot meal in days; he walked along and removed his water flask, unscrewed the cap, and tried to pour it into his mouth only to find not a drop came out.

He looked up at the sky, the fierce sun hanging high, scorching everything to a boil.

Ivan even felt the cap badge on his peaked cap heating up, as if it was branding the double-headed eagle onto his forehead.

He smacked his lips, trying to moisten them with saliva.

At that moment, a half-filled water flask was thrust into Ivan’s hands.

He looked up and saw it was the company commander.

"Drink," said the company commander, "Take a sip and then pass it back."

Ivan nodded, unscrewed the flask, licked the water off the cap lightly, and passed it to the next person.

The men passed the company commander’s water flask along, none of them daring to take a large gulp, until the flask finally returned to the company commander.

The company commander shook the flask and cursed, "If you all carry on like this, the water will just evaporate in the passing! No, when you need to drink, you must drink!"

It was then that Ivan spoke up, "Actually, water is still okay. My flask had just run dry, but I really can’t stand this hunger anymore."

The company commander sighed and said, "According to the map, as soon as we reach Siguta in the west, we’ll have supplies; there will be water and hot soup. But this prairie... no matter how far you walk, the scenery looks the same, and I don’t know how much farther it is to Siguta."

Ivan asked, "What’s Siguta?"

"It’s a place name. This area was ruled by the Khitan Khan in ancient times; a lot of places around here are named like that."

No sooner had the company commander finished speaking that someone up ahead shouted, "We’ve reached Siguta! I see the cooking unit’s flags and smoke from the cookfires!"

The company commander and Ivan looked forward, and sure enough, they saw a lot of smoke rising into the sky.

Someone shouted, "Double time!"

And so, the troop unanimously switched into a running pace, charging toward Siguta. Stay updated with empire

Soon, they arrived. The cooking unit’s girls had lined up a series of water containers by the road, each man able to scoop and drink to his fill.

Ivan scooped up a ladle, took a big gulp, and then poured it over his head.

He felt like he had come back to life.

In fact, the entire Front Army had come back to life.