Arc of Fire

Chapter 662: Chapter 103: Sunrise

February 3, 916, remnants of Army Group A of Prosen surrendered to Ante Troops.

On the same day, Wang Zhong issued an order to the entire Abawahan Front Army to attack Shepetovka, pushing the severely weakened but not yet recovered Group B, completely ignoring the Eleventh Army Group that had suffered heavy losses and was hunkered down in the Coastal Fortress.

His intention was clear, to get as close as possible to Shepetovka before the spring thaw made the muddy period arrive.

After all, since they had left Nan’ant, the infrastructure within Kazarlia should have supported Meishikin, Duke of Shepetovka, in his retreat to Bolsk two years earlier, which meant it should also be able to support a major counter-push now.

His headquarters moved day and night toward Shepetovka, eager to get ahead of the troops.

However, the temperature rose faster than his exhausted troops could advance.

Winter arrived exceptionally early in 915, and the spring of 916 also came slightly earlier.

By February 12, the temperature in some areas rose above freezing, and by February 22, quite a bit of snow had melted, even revealing the ground in some places.

Despite this, Wang Zhong continued to urge the Abawahan Front Army to advance toward Shepetovka, seizing every hour before the arrival of the mud.

At 0730 on February 26, on the road to Shepetovka, right in the middle of the plains.

The convoy of the Abawahan Front Army Headquarters suddenly stopped.

Wang Zhong woke up startled and looked at Ludmila beside him, who also seemed to have just woken up.

He pulled off the blanket, put on his military cap, and got out of the car.

As soon as his boots touched the ground, he stepped into the mud with a squelch.

"Damn it, General Mud, why do you have to arrive so soon!” Wang Zhong muttered.

Just then, Vasily came up, wading through the mud, and said to Wang Zhong, “A tank has broken down upfront, blocking the road. We’re trying to get them out right now.”

Wang Zhong, “Come on, let’s go take a look.”

He turned back to Ludmila in the car, “I’m going to check out what’s happening upfront, stay in the car and don’t move, the road is all muddy.”

"Hmm,” Ludmila nodded gently, clearly still groggy.

Wang Zhong, followed by Vasily, rushed to the front of the convoy, and halfway there, Pavlov and Popov also joined in, all trudging through the mud.

Pavlov, “It’s no use, the mud has arrived, about a week earlier than usual, which is normal. We should stop the attack now and just hold our position. It’s good timing, as our troops have already severely depleted their ammunition, and the equipment condition has reached dangerous levels. Besides, everyone is exhausted.”

Wang Zhong sighed, “It seems the second phase of the winter offensive has to stop here.”

He indeed wanted to advance, but objective conditions didn’t allow it. Continuing to force an advance might put his own troops in danger.

Stopping and waiting for summer to arrive was the right decision.

Popov tried to console Wang Zhong, “Think about the brilliant results we’ve achieved in the winter offensive. The Federation’s newspapers are claiming it surpasses the great victory at Agrekusov that Prosen achieved two years ago.

"This victory marks the beginning, and now no one will doubt that we will win the final victory. Even the Empire of Prosen has had to start general mobilization!”

Wang Zhong’s expression was extremely serious, “Prosen has started general mobilization, and then neither side will be able to move for the next three months, which will just allow their mobilization to transform into manpower and equipment. The war has not yet been won, comrades still need to strive.”

As they spoke, they arrived at the crux of where the convoy had stopped: a T34W tank was stuck in the mud, completely blocking the road.

The tank’s engine ran normally, and the driver was trying hard to get the tracks to move, hoping to use the tank’s own power to escape the mire.

Wang Zhong, “Get something to help, and see if there are any trees nearby, chop some to put underneath!”

Vasily immediately turned and ran off.

Wang Zhong wanted to continue directing everyone, but suddenly stopped.

Because at that moment, the dawn broke in the east, and the weak light allowed him to see the mud on the tank’s tracks was black.

Black mud.

The fertile black earth!

He brushed past Popov, who was blocking him, left the main road, and rushed into the still barren plain.

Everywhere the eye could see was dark soil, made all the darker under the contrast of the lingering patches of white snow.

He turned around, intending to go back for the soil-filled lunch box, but saw Ludmila holding the lunch box, standing not far behind him.

The girl gently raised her hand and shook the iron lunch box she held.

Wang Zhong took the lunch box, carefully loosening the metal hoop on top, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened it.

The black soil lay quietly inside the lunch box. He shook the box slightly, and a bit of the black soil spilled out, vanishing before it even hit the ground, like a drop of water lost in the vast ocean.

Wang Zhong didn’t even need to shift to a bird’s-eye view to confirm—he knew he was standing on the soil of Kazarlia—the real soil of Kazarlia.

He even felt as though he could feel the breathing of the fertile black soil through the thick soles of his boots.

His nostrils filled with the scent of morning dew.

The predawn light in the east grew brighter, and above this light, clouds displayed a glaze-like color.

Wang Zhong intended to pour out all the soil from the lunch box, but as his hand was about to move, he hesitated. He now felt a slight reluctance to part with the soil of his homeland that had accompanied him through two harsh winters.

In the morning light, Wang Zhong vaguely saw General Rocossov and Crown Prince Ivan.

They were talking as usual, their mouths opening and closing.

But this time, Wang Zhong listened intently.

General Rocossov: “You did it.”

Ivan: “I knew you could.”

In that moment, a golden light appeared on the horizon, and the apparitions of the two men shattered, breaking into countless fragments that scattered in the rising sun.

Warm sunlight descended on the earth, driving away darkness and gloom.

Wherever the sunlight reached, Wang Zhong heard the sound of seeds sprouting and buds eagerly growing, ready to declare the arrival of spring to the world.

He stood in the warm sun, feeling the spring breeze on his face.

Two harsh winters had passed, and his frozen homeland was reviving once again.

Wang Zhong flipped his hand, turning the lunch box upside down. The soil fell like a waterfall, landing on the dark soil of his homeland.

This time, I will not leave again.

This time, I will drive out all the invaders and then advance into their country, onto their land.

Just then, the sound of an engine came from the sky, and Wang Zhong shifted to a bird’s-eye view, immediately spotting a PO-2 biplane flying towards the morning light.

The airplane swooped over Wang Zhong’s head, skillfully turned in the air, and approached the spot where Wang Zhong stood—because of their excellent takeoff and landing abilities, PO-2s were often used by the Russians as commuter vehicles or as messengers.

The airplane landed on the ground, sliding on the muddy surface, and finally stopped due to too much mud building up on its wheels, nosediving forward.

"Sukabule!” cursed the officer who sat in the back of the plane, jumping out with a briefcase and heading towards Wang Zhong.

The pilot climbed out of the plane a moment later, for the wings of the biplane usually meant that pilots would exit after the passengers in such crash landings.

The visitor was a Colonel who came up to Wang Zhong and snapped to attention, but the force of his stomp sent mud flying high.

"General Rocossovsky, salute!” the Colonel said.

Wang Zhong handed the empty lunch box back to Ludmila, who was behind him, and then returned the salute, “Salute to you, what brings you here?”

"Orders from the Supreme Command Department and His Majesty the Tsar. The command has decided to reorganize the Abawahan Front Army and the Mountain Corps into the First Front Army of Kazarlia, with you as Commander, Admiral Pavlov as Chief of Staff, and Admiral Popov as Military Bishop. That’s all.”

Wang Zhong took the orders, glanced over them.

"I have received the orders,” he looked at the plane, “It seems you can’t go back. Join me for breakfast at my headquarters.”

The Colonel glanced at the motorcade behind Wang Zhong: “Your… headquarters has breakfast?”

Wang Zhong turned and looked back, saying, “There should be, the next village is only about ten kilometers away, we’ll be there soon.”

He hesitated, then repeated, “We’ll be there soon.”

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